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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/8696-8.txt b/8696-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..44ce038 --- /dev/null +++ b/8696-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8524 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Posting Date: April 5, 2014 [EBook #8696] +Release Date: August, 2005 +First Posted: August 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + +BY IVAN TURGENEV + + + +_Translated from the Russian_ +_By CONSTANCE GARNETT_ + + + + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK +WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV +SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the childish +attitude of certain English men of letters to the novel in general, +their depreciation of its influence and of the public's 'inordinate' +love of fiction. Many men of letters to-day look on the novel as a mere +story-book, as a series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their +'idle hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, and +poetry as the age's _serious_ contribution to literature. Whereas +the reverse is the case. The most serious and significant of all +literary forms the modern world has evolved is the novel; and brought to +its highest development, the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour +of being the supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + +To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden marked out +for the crowd's diversion--a field of recreation adorned here and there +by the masterpieces of a few great men--argues in the modern critic +either an academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed +obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama in all but +two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by artists as a coarse +playground for the great public's romps and frolics, but the novel can +be preserved exactly so long as the critics understand that to exercise +a delicate art is the one _serious_ duty of the artistic life. It +is no more an argument against the vital significance of the novel that +tens of thousands of people--that everybody, in fact--should to-day +essay that form of art, than it is an argument against poetry that for +all the centuries droves and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and +rhymesters have succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in +worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be vindicated +in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm of critics in stripping +bare the false, and in hailing as the true all that is animated by the +living breath of beauty. The true function of the novel! That can only +be supported by those who understand that the adequate representation +and criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men were the +novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned to the mass of vulgar +standards. That the novel is the most insidious means of mirroring human +society Cervantes in his great classic revealed to seventeenth-century +Europe. Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great +realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century that the +novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their days to the days of +Henry James the form of the novel has been adapted by European genius to +the exact needs, outlook, and attitude to life of each successive +generation. To the French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must +be given the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has +become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, however, +reserved for the youngest of European literatures, for the Russian +school, to raise the novel to being the absolute and triumphant +expression by the national genius of the national soul. + +Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best defined by saying +that while he stands as a great classic in the ranks of the great +novelists, along with Richardson, Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, +Thackeray, Meredith, Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest +of them all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been +recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both wider in +its range and more beautiful in its form than the work of any modern +European artist. The novel modelled by Turgenev's hands, the Russian +novel, became _the_ great modern instrument for showing 'the very +age and body of the time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life +in all its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the same +time to assess its values by the great poetic insight that reveals man's +relations to the universe around him,--that is an art only transcended +by Shakespeare's own in its unique creation of a universe of great human +types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we see that if +he has made the novel both more delicate and more powerful than their +example shows it, it is because as the supreme artist he filled it with +the breath of poetry where others in general spoke the word of prose. +Turgenev's horizon always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and +Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev speaks for the +nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an endless stream of human +figures, Turgenev's characters reveal themselves as wider apart in the +range of their spirit, as more mysteriously alive in their inevitable +essence, than do Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or +Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in _War and +Peace_, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole generation, +Turgenev in _Fathers and Children_ concentrates in the few words of +a single character, Bazarov, the essence of modern science's attitude to +life, that scientific spirit which has transformed both European life +and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further parallels +between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England alone, perhaps, is it +necessary to say to the young novelist that the novel can become +anything, can be anything, according to the hands that use it. In its +application to life, its future development can by no means be gauged. +It is the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief method +to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. If you love your +art, if you would exalt it, treat it absolutely seriously. If you would +study it in its highest form, the form the greatest artist of our time +has perfected--remember Turgenev. + +EDWARD GARNETT. + +November 1899. + + + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE JEW + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + +THE DUELLIST + +THREE PORTRAITS + +ENOUGH + + + + + + + +THE JEW + + +...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai Ilyitch. + +The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke between his +moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, looked at us and +considered. We all had the greatest liking and respect for Nikolai +Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, common sense, and kindly indulgence +to us young fellows. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; +his dark face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: Lermontov +in the _Treasurer's Wife_.--AUTHOR'S NOTE.] straight-forward, +clever glance, gentle smile, manly and mellow voice--everything about +him pleased and attracted one. + +'All right, listen then,' he began. + +It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the E---- regiment of +cuirassiers, and had just, I recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It +is an exhilarating occupation--fighting; and marching too is good enough +in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a besieging army. There one sits +the whole blessed day within some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on +mud or straw, playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from +simple boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets +flying. + +At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they quickly +subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions too; we were +overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that we were ready to howl for +sheer _ennui_. I was not more than nineteen then; I was a healthy +young fellow, fresh as a daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the +fun I could out of the French... and in other ways too... you +understand what I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to +do, I fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my luck +turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I had won an +immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out into the fresh air, and +sat down on a mound. It was a splendid, calm morning; the long lines of +our fortifications were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and +then began to doze where I was sitting. + +A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me +a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey wrapper, slippers, +and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose name was Girshel, was +continually hanging about our camp, offering his services as an agent, +getting us wine, provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, +red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked incessantly +with his diminutive little eyes, which were reddish too; he had a long +crooked nose, and was always coughing. + +He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + +'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + +'Oh, I only--I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be of use to your +honour in some way...' + +'I don't want you; you can go.' + +'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there might be, +sir, something....' + +'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + +'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to +congratulate you on your success....' + +'Why, how did you know?' + +'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... immense....Oh! how +immense....' + +Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + +'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the devil's the +good of money here?' + +'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. Money's a +capital thing; always of use; you can get anything for money, your +honour; anything! anything! Only say the word to the agent, he'll get +you anything, your honour, anything! anything!' + +'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + +'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your honour doesn't +believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed his eyes and slowly wagged +his head to right and to left.... 'Oh, I know what his honour the +officer would like.... I know,... to be sure I do!' + +The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + +'Really!' + +The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + +'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel again closed +his eyes and shot out his lips. + +'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see for +yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you won't believe... +better tell me to show you... that's the thing, that's the thing!' + +I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + +'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you then....' + +Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the shoulder, but +skipped back at once as though he had been scalded. + +'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + +'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + +'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with unusual warmth, +waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... if so, your honour, you +order me to be given five hundred... four hundred and fifty lashes,' he +added hurriedly....' You give orders--' + +At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent and called +me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a gold coin. + +'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + +I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening with some +impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; our regiment marched +to the attack. The evening came on; we sat round the fires... the +soldiers cooked porridge. My comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank +tea, and listened to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of +cards--I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. Gradually the +officers dispersed to their tents; the fires began to die down; the +soldiers too dispersed, or went to sleep on the spot; everything was +still. I did not get up. My orderly squatted on his heels before the +fire, and was beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was +hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it were +waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night came on. A long +while I watched the dying flame.... The last fire went out. 'The damned +Jew was taking me in,' I thought angrily, and was just going to get up. + +'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my ear. + +I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and whispered +something. + +'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The Jew shrank +into himself, and stepped warily over the short, damp grass. I observed +on one side a motionless, muffled-up figure. The Jew beckoned to +her--she went up to him. He whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his +head several times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to +relate, I was breathless. + +'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, 'you see. +She's a little frightened at the moment, she's frightened; but I've told +her his honour the officer's a good man, a splendid man.... Don't be +frightened, don't be frightened,' he went on--'don't be frightened....' + +The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state of dreadful +confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel too was fidgeting +restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange way.... + +'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as it seemed, +Girshel obeyed. + +I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark hood off +her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by the faint, reddish, +flickering glow of the distant fire I saw the pale face of a young +Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I stood facing her, and gazed at her in +silence. She did not raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. +Girshel was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. I +waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + +'What's your name?' I said at last. + +'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the darkness the +gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped eyes and little, even, +flashing teeth. + +I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, and asked +her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat down. She was +wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, with round, chased silver +buttons, and full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round +her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. +She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a +catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed +her cold, shaking fingers. + +'Do you know Russian?' + +'Yes... a little.' + +'And do you like Russians?' + +'Yes, I like them.' + +'Then, you like me too?' + +'Yes, I like you.' + +I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly.... + +'No, no, please, sir, please...' + +'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + +She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away +with a smile, and blushed. + +I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and +softly laughed. + +'What is it?' + +She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + +Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger +at her. She ceased laughing. + +'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me sick!' + +Girshel did not go away. + +I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them in his +hand and pushed him out. + +'Your honour, me too....' she said. + +I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them like a cat. + +'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + +'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and beseeching voice. + +'What are you frightened of?' + +'I'm afraid.' + +'Oh, nonsense....' + +'No, please.' + +She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side and clasped +her hands. I let her alone. + +'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and she raised +her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I kissed it. Sara laughed +again. + +My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not know what to +do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + +I turned to her again. + +'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + +'I know.' + +'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + +Sara shook her head. + +'No, answer me properly.' + +'Well, show yourself,' she said. + +I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, began +scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not contain myself, +and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She jumped up and in one bound +was at the entrance of the tent. + +'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + +She did not speak and did not stir. + +'Come here to me....' + +'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + +Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of words to +her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + +I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get another +glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + +The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + +The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I was +playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + +'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + +'Who is it?' + +'A Jew.' + +'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the rubber, +got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + +'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your honour, are +you satisfied?' + +'Ah, you------!' (Here the colonel glanced round. 'No ladies present, I +believe.... Well, never mind, any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, +'so you're making fun of me, are you?' + +'How so?' + +'How so, indeed! What a question!' + +'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said reproachfully, but +never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young and modest.... You frightened +her, indeed, you did.' + +'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + +'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + +'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... only, +please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and leave us in +peace; do you hear?' + +Girshel's eyes sparkled. + +'What do you say? You like her?' + +'Well, yes.' + +'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. And have +you something for me now?' + +'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring her and +then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + +'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined hurriedly. +'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near the tent, your honour, +if you like; I'll... I'll go away, your honour, if you like, a +little.... I'm ready to do your honour a service.... I'll move away... +to be sure, I will.' + +'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + +'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a beauty, eh?' + +Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + +'She's good-looking.' + +'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + +I threw him a coin; we parted. + +The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting for a long +while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It struck two in the town. +I was beginning to curse the Jew.... Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I +jumped up took her in my arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold +as ice. I could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit +down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her waist.... She +did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she broke into loud, +convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to soothe her, to persuade her.... +She wept in torrents.... I caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she +did not resist, made no answer to my questions and wept--wept, like a +waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out of the tent. + +Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + +'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. Take Sara +away.' + +The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched +hold of him. + +'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each +other again some other time.' + +Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and +pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + +For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel +did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I +slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black +eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her +cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging +party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking +the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my +horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot.... + +'Mercy on us, Sara!' + +She was pale and excited. + +'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... +Your honour....' + +She recognised me and flushed red. + +'Why, do you live here?' + +'Yes.' + +'Where?' + +Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and +galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess +was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three +hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the +hens clucked and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading +their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I +heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called to my men and told +them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The +soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as +he called her, 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + +'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + +She looked at me with a smile. + +'What has become of you all this time?' + +She dropped her eyes. + +'I will come to you to-morrow.' + +'In the evening?' + +'No, sir, in the morning.' + +'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + +'No... no, I won't.' + +I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me handsomer than +ever. I remember I was particularly struck by the even, amber tint of +her face and the bluish lights in her black hair.... I bent down from my +horse and warmly pressed her little hand. + +'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + +'Yes.' + +She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the party, and +galloped off. + +The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of the tent. It +was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen and every blade of grass +was sparkling in the dew and the crimson glow. I clambered on to a high +breastwork, and sat down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, +cast-iron cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I +looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of a bent +figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I recognised Girshel. +He stood without moving for a long while in one place, then suddenly ran +a little on one side, looked hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a +cry, squatted down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round +again and listening. I could see all his actions very clearly. He put +his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and +began writing or drawing something. Girshel continually stopped, started +like a hare, attentively scrutinised everything around him, and seemed +to be sketching our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half +closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. At last, the +Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his slipper, and stuffed the +paper in it; but he had not time to regain his legs, when suddenly, ten +steps from him, there appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the +whiskered countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole +of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew stood with +his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him and laid his heavy paw +on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to shrink into himself. He shook like a +leaf and uttered a feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him +threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear their +conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the Jew, and his +supplicating appearance, I began to guess what it was. The Jew twice +flung himself at the sergeant's feet, put his hand in his pocket, pulled +out a torn check handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold +coins.... Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not +leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a sudden bound +and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in pursuit. The Jew ran +exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue stockings, flashed by, really +very rapidly; but Siliavka after a short run caught the crouching Jew, +made him stand up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I +got up and went to meet him. + +'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,--'it's a spy I'm bringing you--a +spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was streaming with perspiration. +'Stop that wriggling, devilish Jew--now then... you wretch! you'd better +look out, I'll throttle you!' + +The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into Siliavka's +chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were rolling convulsively.... + +'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + +'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his right +foot,--I can't get at it.' He was still holding the Jew in his arms. + +I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded piece of +paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our camp. On the margin +were a number of notes written in a fine hand in the Jews' language. + +Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew opened his eyes, +saw me, and flung himself on his knees before me. + +Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + +'What's this?' + +'It's---nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice broke. + +'Are you a spy?' + +He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, pressed my knees +in terror.... + +'Are you a spy?' + +'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I never did; +I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly impossible. I'm +ready--I'll--this minute--I've money to give... I'll pay for it,' he +whispered, and closed his eyes. + +The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish hair was +soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips were blue, and +working convulsively; his brows were contracted painfully; his face was +drawn.... + +Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give Girshel a good +fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his tongue, but now the affair had +become public, and could not escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + +'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + +'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of despair. 'I +am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let me go, tell him...' + +'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come along.' + +'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me--'tell him! have mercy!' + +His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a man of +German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict in his adherence +to military discipline. I went into the little house that had been +hastily put up for him, and in a few words explained the reason of my +visit. I knew the severity of the military regulations, and so I did not +even pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair before +him as something quite trifling and not worth attention. But, unhappily +for Girshel, the general put doing his duty higher than pity. + +'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, 'inexperienced +are. You in military matters yet inexperienced are. The matter, of which +you to me reported have, is important, very important.... And where is +this man who taken was? this Jew? where is he?' + +I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in the Jew. +The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + +'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's the plan +which on this man found was?' + +I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away again, +screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + +'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who arrested him?' + +'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + +'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in your defence?' + +'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... indeed,... +your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your Excellency; ask his honour the +officer.... I'm an agent, your Excellency, an honest agent.' + +'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an undertone, +wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you explain this, my friend?' +'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, I'm not guilty.' + +'That is not probable, however. You were--how is it said in +Russian?--taken on the fact, that is, in the very facts!' + +'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + +'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + +'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your Excellency!' + +The general looked at Siliavka. + +'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the +plan out of his slipper.' + +The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + +'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + +'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + +'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? +Confess....' + +'How could I?' + +'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + +The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the skirts of his +gown. + +'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief +silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor Schliekelmann?' + +They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. Girshel began +to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes seemed starting out of +his head. The adjutant came in. The general gave him the requisite +instructions. The secretary showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an +instant. Two or three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + +'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German as best I +could; 'let him off....' + +'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to you, are +inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, and me no more to +trouble.' + +Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + +'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, your +Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a daughter... have +mercy....' + +'It's no use!' + +'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, your +Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + +'You furnished no other documents?' + +'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my children... have +mercy....' + +'But you are a spy.' + +'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + +The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it. + +'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said constrainedly, with the +air of a man forced to do violence to his heart, and sacrifice his +better feelings to inexorable duty--'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg +you to draw up a report of the occurrence....' + +A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary +timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected +the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast +trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, +he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had +on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again... his +gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + +We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + +'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched creature.' + +'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, and not +without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + +'For pity's sake....' + +'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the general, +and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + +I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere, +I remained at no great distance from the general's house. + +Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and +three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could +hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned +with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a +look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the +Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood +silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to +Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at +me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, +and closed my eyes.... + +Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head +and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and +clutched at my hands. + +'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + +'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + +'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + +'To what father?' + +'My father; they are going to hang him....' + +'What! is Girshel...?' + +'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing +her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + +We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary +birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them +without speaking.... + +'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers +won't obey me.' + +Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going +round. + +'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here? +It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together; +who knows, we may persuade him.' + +Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy. + +'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your +father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + +'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + +I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + +'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, tell them +to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the general.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +Ivanov ran off. + +We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I begged, +persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara tore her hair and +rushed at the sentinels; they would not let us pass. + +Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, and ran at +breakneck pace towards the open country, to her father. I followed her. +Every one stared at us, wondering. + +We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and picture it, +gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor Girshel. I flew into a +rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw us and fell on his daughter's +neck. Sara clung to him passionately. + +The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just beginning to +thank me... I turned away. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not pardoned?' + +I did not speak. + +'No?' + +'No.' + +'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, look... she, this +girl, see--you know--she's my daughter.' + +'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! I wouldn't +for anything...' + +He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted your money, +your honour, I must own... but not for anything....' + +I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his +accomplice.... + +'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, 'I'll +command her... I... do you understand?... everything... I'll go to every +length....' + +He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him hurriedly. Sara +silently and passionately embraced him. + +The adjutant came up to us. + +'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders to place +you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the soldiers to the Jew... +'quickly.' + +Siliavka went up to the Jew. + +'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had come with +him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor girl....' + +'Of course. Certainly.' + +The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was muttering something +to her in Yiddish.... + +The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's arms, and +carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at once she broke from +their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... Siliavka stopped her. Sara +pushed him away; her face was covered with a faint flush, her eyes +flashed, she stretched out her arms. + +'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice +accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan +and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful +death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless, +bloodthirsty dogs....' + +Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up +and carried her away. + +The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had +been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was +really ludicrous, in spite of all the horror of his position. The +intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed +itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, +and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was +horrible--intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead +with terror.... + +'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a +lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know me. I'm an agent, an +honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a minute, a little minute, a tiny +minute--wait! Let me go; I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I +know, she's at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he +bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the +quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The soldiers +were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a deafening shriek, and +wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your Excellency, have pity on the unhappy +father of a family. I'll give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, +your Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare me! +have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your Excellency, the +general and commander-in-chief!' + +They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed away. + +I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the widow of +the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes of the deceased. The +general ordered a hundred roubles to be given to her. Sara I never saw +again. I was wounded; I was taken to the hospital, and by the time I was +well again, Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the +banks of the Rhine. + + + + + + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + + +Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful days... and I +would rather not recall them.... But I have made you a promise; I shall +have to tell you the whole story. Listen. + + +I + + +I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in the house +of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was eighteen; I had only +just passed from the second into the third course in the faculty 'of +Language' (that was what it was called in those days) in the Moscow +University. My aunt was a gentle, quiet woman--a widow. She lived in a +big, wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses such as, +I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. She saw hardly any +one, sat from morning till night in the drawing-room with two +companions, drank the choicest tea, played patience, and was continually +requesting that the room should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions +ran into the hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would +bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, and stepping +hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he would sprinkle the mint +with vinegar. White fumes always puffed up about his wrinkled face, and +he frowned and turned away, while the canaries in the dining-room +chirped their hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering +mint. + +I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She placed the +whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. My rooms were +furnished very elegantly, not at all like a student's rooms in fact: +there were pink curtains in the bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned +with blue rosettes, towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, +rather an annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were +calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it was, they +nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could never succeed in +forcing myself to smoke. I studied--why conceal my shortcomings?--very +lazily, especially at the beginning of the course. I went out a great +deal. My aunt had bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with +a pair of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were +rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed masses of +tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted myself no breach of +decorum, and behaved very discreetly, _en jeune homme de bonne +maison_. I would not for anything in the world have pained my kind +aunt; and besides I was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + + +II + + +From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no idea of the +science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One day in a café, I was +the spectator of a prolonged contest at chess, between two players, of +whom one, a fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as +playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play a match +with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, beat me easily, +three times running. + +'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a courteous +tone, noticing probably that my vanity was suffering; 'but you don't +know the openings. You ought to study a chess-book--Allgacir or Petrov.' + +'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + +'Come to me; I will give you one.' + +He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next day I went to +see him, and a week later we were almost inseparable. + + +III + + +My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. He lived +with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow of a privy +councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart and lived quite +independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He had a post in the +department of Court affairs. I became genuinely attached to him. I had +never in my life met a young man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about +him was charming and attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his +voice, and especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue +eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little nose, the +unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the light curls of soft +hair over the rather narrow, snow-white brow. Fustov's character was +remarkable for exceptional serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained +affability; he was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with +everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over anything. +Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon him; 'that's savage, +savage,' he would say with a faint shrug, half closing his golden eyes. +Marvellous were those eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed +sympathy, good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that I +noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely from their +setting, that it never changed, even when he was sipping his soup or +smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a byword between us. His +grandmother, indeed, had been a German. Nature had endowed him with all +sorts of talents. He danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a +first-rate swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books +and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of flowers or +Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the zither with feeling; +knew a number of tricks, with cards and without; and had a fair +knowledge of mechanics, physics, and chemistry; but everything only up +to a certain point. Only for languages he had no great facility: even +French he spoke rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share +in our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright sympathy +of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was attractive, +undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such importance among young people, +he did not care to enlarge, and fully deserved the nickname given him by +his comrades, 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; +there was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, though +in reality it was only manifested by his never refusing to see me when I +called. To my mind Fustov was the happiest man in the world. His life +ran so very smoothly. His mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles +all adored him, he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and +enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + + +IV + + +One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him in his +study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of panting and +splashing reached me from there. Every morning Fustov took a cold +shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter of an hour practised gymnastic +exercises, in which he had attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive +anxiety about one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did +not neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't over-excite +yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) Fustov had not yet made +his appearance, when the outer door of the room where I was waiting flew +wide open, and there walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish +uniform. He was a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a +dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. This person +stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth wide, and with a metallic +chuckle, he gave himself a smart slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up +in front as he did so. + +'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + +'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What are you up +to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' (The voice of the man +addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the same harsh, metallic note as his +laugh.) 'I've trudged all this way to give your little brother his +lesson; and he's got a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He +can't do his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + +Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again dealt +himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a check handkerchief +out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, ferociously rolling his eyes, +spat into the handkerchief, and ejaculated with the whole force of his +lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + +Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, asked us +if we were acquainted. + +'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the veteran of the +year twelve has not that honour!' + +Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran of the +year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, professor of... +various subjects.' + +'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch chimed in. 'Come +to think of it, what is there I haven't taught, and that I'm not +teaching now, for that matter! Mathematics and geography and statistics +and Italian book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear +sir?'--he pounced suddenly upon me--'ask Alexander Daviditch if I'm not +first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a poor sort of Bohemian--Czech, I +should say--if I weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is +ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't we seen you +for so long! We ought to have a little duet... ha-ha! Really!' + +'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan Demianitch,' replied +Fustov. + +'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + +When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to side in a +strange, restless way. + +'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he addressed me +again. 'But that's because you don't understand my temperament. You must +just ask our good friend here, Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about +me. What'll he tell you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, +good-hearted chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! +At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called Ivan +Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I wear my heart, as +they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all sorts I know naught about and +don't want to neither! Can't bear it! You drop in on me one day of an +evening, and you'll see for yourself. My good woman--my wife, that +is--has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and bake you... +something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't it the truth I'm +telling?' + +Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + +'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued Mr. Ratsch. +'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of his pocket and put it +up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd better be toddling on, I suppose. I've +another chick expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... +mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, at the Red +Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks to your brother's +cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen kopecks for sledge hire to +the good! Ha-ha! A very good day to you, gentlemen, till we meet +again!... Eh?... We must have a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the +passage putting on his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard +his metallic laugh. + + +V + + +'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had already set to +work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a foreigner? He speaks Russian so +fluently.' + +'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As long ago +as 1802, some prince or other brought him from abroad... in the capacity +of secretary... more likely, valet, one would suppose. He does speak +Russian fluently, certainly.' + +'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + +'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, these +Russianised Germans.' + +'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + +'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + +'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? Was he in +the militia, or what?' + +'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained in Moscow +and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + +'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + +Fustov still went on with his turning. + +'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; but that +must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received compensation from the +treasury for his losses.' + +'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in government service +then?' + +'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a petty +councillor.' + +'What's his wife like?' + +'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or butcher....' + +'And do you often go to see him?' + +'Yes.' + +'What, is it pleasant there?' + +'Rather pleasant.' + +'Has he any children?' + +'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his first wife.' + +'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + +'About five-and-twenty,' + +I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel turned more +rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his feet. + +'Is she good-looking?' + +'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and she's +altogether... a remarkable person.' + +'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special earnestness, +and to my next question he only responded by a grunt. + +'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + + +VI + + +A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to spend the +evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard and garden, in +Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky boulevard. He came out into the +passage, and meeting us with his characteristic jarring guffaw and +noise, led us at once into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a +stout lady in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. +Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been possessed of +what the French for some unknown reason call _beauté du diable_, +that is to say, freshness; but when I made her acquaintance, she +suggested involuntarily to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly +laid by the butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word +'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of cleanliness, but +everything about her, everything in the house positively shone, and +glittered; everything had been scoured, and polished, and washed: the +samovar on the round table flashed like fire; the curtains before the +windows, the table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the +little frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting there, +stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their mother, with +coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their foreheads, and red, +shapeless fingers. All the four of them had rather flat noses, large, +swollen-looking lips, and tiny, light-grey eyes. + +'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand on the +children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, Sashka and Mashka! +This one's eight, this one's seven, that one's four, and this one's only +two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! +Eh, Eleonora Karpovna?' + +'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna and she +turned away. + +'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. Ratsch +pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all baptized into the +Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon +my soul, she is, though she is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are +you Slavonic?' + +Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + +'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm a Russian +lady and all you may say....' + +'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke in Ivan +Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + +'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be sure I love +Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? And my children too +are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze ruhig mit den Füssen!' + +Ratsch waved his hand to her. + +'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's the nobly +born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! He'll come across +the inspector one of these fine days! He'll give him a talking-to! Das +ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + +'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie wissen +wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + +I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at what induced +him to visit such people... but at that instant there came into the room +a tall girl in a black dress, the elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom +Fustov had referred.... I perceived the explanation of my friend's +frequent visits. + + +VII + + +There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something about 'a white +dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just the impression made on me +by the girl, who entered the room. Between the world surrounding her and +herself there seemed to be too little in common; she herself seemed +secretly bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the +members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, simple-hearted, +healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already careworn, face bore the +traces of depression, pride and morbidity. The others, unmistakable +plebeians, were unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but +simple; but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably +aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace of the type +characteristic of the German race; she recalled rather the children of +the south. The excessively thick, lustreless black hair, the hollow, +black, lifeless but beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the +aquiline nose, the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic +line near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, +something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the movements, +elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this would not have struck +me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near the Pretchistensky boulevard, it +simply astonished me! I got up from my seat on her entrance; she flung +me a swift, uneasy glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down +near the window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's _Oniegin_ was then fresh +in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my friend was standing +with his back to me, taking a cup of tea from the plump hands of +Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further that the girl as she came in seemed +to bring with her a breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a +statue!' was my thought. + + +VIII + + +'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let me +introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! to Susanna +Ivanovna!' + +I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too is not the +same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose slightly, without smiling +or loosening her tightly clasped hands. + +'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander Daviditch? +eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and I've got the bassoon +out of its case already. Let us make sweet music for the honourable +company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to display his Russian; he was continually +bursting out with expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast +about the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you say? +Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no objection. +'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with the music-stand! Olga, +this way with the zither! And oblige us with candles for the stands, +better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch turned round and round in the room like a +top.) 'Piotr Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, +you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not above a +whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that silly chap, Viktor? +He ought to be here to listen too! You spoil him completely, Eleonora +Karpovna.' + +Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + +'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + +'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast verstanden? +Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + +The children had promptly done as their father had told them. The +music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already mentioned that +Fustov played the zither extremely well, but that instrument has always +produced the most distressing impression upon me. I have always fancied, +and I fancy still, that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a +decrepit Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and complaints +against the merciless musician who forces it to utter sounds. Mr. +Ratsch's performance, too, was not calculated to give me much pleasure; +moreover, his face became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant +expression, while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were +just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were swearing and +threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out chokingly husky, coarse +notes one after another. I placed myself near Susanna, and waiting for a +momentary pause, I asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + +She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and pronounced +abruptly, 'Who?' + +'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + +'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + +'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have misunderstood... But +I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + +Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + +'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + +I was silent for a while. + +'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + +Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something suggesting +a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not expected nor desired +the continuation of our conversation. + +'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. +'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with startling fury, +executing the final flourishes. I turned round, caught sight of the red +neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his +projecting ears, and very disgusting I thought him. + +'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said in an +undertone. + +'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though catching my secret +hint. + +'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at something. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in her German +Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very beautifully plays the +piano, only she likes not to play the piano when she is greatly pressed +to play.' + +Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply--she did not even look at +her--only there was a faint movement of her eyes, under their dropped +lids, in her direction. From this movement alone--this movement of her +pupils--I could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna +cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again I was +delighted at something. + +Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with hesitating footsteps +approached the window, near which Susanna and I were sitting, and asked +her if she had received from Lengold's the music that he had promised to +order her from Petersburg. + +'Selections from _Robert le Diable,_' he added, turning to me, +'from that new opera that every one's making such a fuss about.' + +'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning round with her +face to the window she whispered hurriedly. 'Please, Alexander +Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me play to-day. I don't feel in the +mood a bit.' + +'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan Demianitch, +coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a first-class article! He's +a Jew, and all Jews, like all Czechs, are born musicians. Especially +Jews. That's right, isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + +In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, there +could be heard something more than his usual bantering tone--the desire +to wound was evident. So, at least, I fancied, and so Susanna understood +him. She started instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A +spot of light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and +rising quickly, she went out of the room. + +'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled after her. + +'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. 'Wenn sie +einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + +'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his heels, and +slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the _plexus solaris._ +Oh! you needn't look at me like that, Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go +at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora +Karpovna... I cure all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at +that!' + +'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter responded +with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and gracefully swaying to and +fro, looked at the husband and wife. + +'And why not be joking, mein Mütterchen?' retorted Ivan Demianitch. +'Life's given us for use, and still more for beauty, as some celebrated +poet has observed. Kolka, wipe your nose, little savage!' + + +IX + + +'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through your doing,' +I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way home with him. 'You told +me that that girl--what's her name?--Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. +Ratsch, but she's his stepdaughter.' + +'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it all the +same?' + +'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! Did you +notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews before her? Is +she... a Jewess?' + +Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow was crisp, +like salt, under our feet. + +'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he observed at +last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish extraction.' + +'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + +'Probably.' + +'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is his +stepson too?' + +'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter into other +people's affairs, and I don't like asking questions. I'm not +inquisitive.' + +I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near home, I +overtook him and peeped into his face. + +'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + +Fustov frowned. + +'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only she's very +shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. He seemed to be +regretting having made me acquainted with her. + +I said nothing and we parted. + + +X + + +Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my mornings at his +rooms had become a necessity for me. He received me cordially, as usual, +but of our visit of the previous evening--not a word! As though he had +taken water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the pages +of the last number of the _Telescope._ + +A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to be Mr. +Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been censured by his father +the evening before. + +He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked dissipated and +unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on his unclean face, and an +expression of fatigue in his swollen eyes. He was like his father, only +his features were smaller and not without a certain prettiness. But in +this very prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a +very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's coat, one +of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked of tobacco. + +'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar twitchings +of the head and shoulders which I have always noticed in spoilt and +conceited young men. 'I meant to go to the University, but here I am. +Sort of oppression on my chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across +the room, listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his +trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + +'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to each +other. We were both students, but were in different faculties. + +'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior smiled, +again not without a certain prettiness, though he showed a set of bad +teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. Yes'--he lighted a cigar and cleared +his throat--'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + +'Where's he going?' + +'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You know the +black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + +'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed Fustov. + +Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our den +yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + +'As usual.' + +'And _she_... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with his head in +my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + +'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + +'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + +Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round his head, +gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat hoarsely. + +I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as though giving +me to understand that it was no use talking to such a dolt. + + +XI + + +Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately and +through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, of a certain +Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of him, of the new +professor, R., whom he called a brute. 'Because, only fancy, what a +monstrous notion! Every lecture he begins with calling over the +students' names, and he's reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your +liberals locked up in custody!' and turning at last his full face and +whole body towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, +half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, Alexander +Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round somehow?... You play +duets with him, you know.... Here he gives me five miserable blue notes +a month.... What's the use of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he +goes on about my not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, +and then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like _some +people_.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with peculiar +emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's no use his whining +about hard times, there's no taking me in. No fear! He's made a snug +little pile!' + +Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + +'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if you like... +meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + +'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added Viktor, +scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, 'you might hand over +five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the same to you.... What's the blessed +total I owe you?' + +'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + +'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred and ten. I'll +pay it all in a lump.' + +Fustov went into the next room, brought back a twenty-five-rouble note +and handed it in silence to Viktor. The latter took it, yawned with his +mouth wide open, grumbled thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up +from the sofa. + +'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn in to the +"Italie."' + +He moved towards the door. + +Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with himself. + +'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor Ivanitch?' he asked +at last. + +Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + +'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets one. An +awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it you one of these +days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer affair. But, I say, the +governor, you won't forget about the governor, please! His hide is +thick, of course--German, and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you +can get through it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! +Dad's afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her brats! But +there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + +'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as the door +had slammed-to. + +His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned away from +me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + + +XII + + +All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about Susanna, and +about her relations. I had a vague feeling of something like a family +drama. As far as I could judge, my friend was not indifferent to +Susanna. But she? Did she care for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And +altogether, what sort of creature was she? These questions were +continually recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told +me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the solution of them. +It ended in my setting off the next day alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + +I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I found +myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear even, very likely,' +flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to stop with the repulsive veteran +and his cook of a wife.... And indeed, even if she does show herself, +what of it? She won't even take part in the conversation.... She was +anything but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I +come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page ran to +announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after two or three +wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard the heavy shuffling of +slippers, the folding-door was slightly opened, and in the crack between +its two halves was thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and +grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not +immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once recognise +me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes narrower, and from +his opening mouth, there burst, together with a guffaw, the exclamation: +'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? Pray walk in!' + +I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to me that +this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly wishing me at the +devil. There was nothing to be done, however. He led me into the +drawing-room, and in the drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, +bending over an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy +eyes, and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... It was +a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to nervous people. There +was no one else in the room. + +'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on the haunch, +'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy upon: we're at our +accounts. My spouse has no great head for arithmetic, and I, I must own, +try to spare my eyes. I can't read without spectacles, what am I to do? +Let the young people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. +But there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in catching +fleas, he-he!' + +Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + +'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great matter if +you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was wearing a very old, +almost childish, frock with short sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a +stickler for ceremony, and I should like just to clear up last week.... +You don't mind?'--he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony with +you, eh?' + +'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + +'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar Alexey +Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for business, but a minute +for recreation!" We'll devote one minute only to that same business... +ha-ha! What about that thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in +a low voice, turning his back on me. + +'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was with your +leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + +'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. 'I'm on the +spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's had that seventeen +roubles?' + +'The upholsterer.' + +'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + +'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, and planting +a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on his nose, he began +passing his finger along the lines. 'The upholsterer,.. the +upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money out of doors! Nothing pleases +you better!... Wie die Croaten! A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added +aloud, and he turned round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles +off his nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details +later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that account-book, +and come back to us and enchant our kind guest's ears with your musical +accomplishments, to wit, playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + +Susanna turned away her head. + +'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a great +pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I would not for +anything in the world be a trouble...' + +'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, eins, zwei, +drei!' + +Susanna made no response, and went out. + + +XIII + + +I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly reappeared. She had +not even changed her dress, and sitting down in a corner, she looked +twice intently at me. Whether it was that she was conscious in my manner +to her of the involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more +than curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or whether +she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any way, she suddenly went +to the piano, and laying her hand irresolutely on the keys, and turning +her head a little over her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would +like her to play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, +taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. I loved +music from childhood, but at that time I had but little comprehension of +it, and very slight knowledge of the works of the great masters, and if +Mr. Ratsch had not grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder +dieser Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had chosen. It +was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated sonata in F minor, opus +57. Susanna's playing impressed me more than I can say; I had not +expected such force, such fire, such bold execution. At the very first +bars of the intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I +felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, which +instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with sudden flight +upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very end. I kept, wanting--and +not daring--to sigh. I was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her +face; I saw only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down +on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her delicate arms +and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, moving. The last notes +died away. I sighed at last. Susanna still sat before the piano. + +'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, listened with +attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the fashion nowadays. Only, +why not play correctly? Eh? Put your finger on two notes at once--what's +that for? Eh? To be sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! +Turns it out hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + +Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of her face +in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the downcast eyelid, an +unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the little ear was red under the +lock pushed behind it. + +'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' pursued Mr. +Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the late Field they were +all--tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And +his own compositions the finest things! But all those now +"tloo-too-too," and "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for +beginners. Da braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no +matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' (Ivan +Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) 'But I don't say +that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played well, and oughtn't to be hurt +by my remarks.' + +'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, and her lips +were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan Demianitch, you know, cannot +hurt me.' + +'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'--Mr. Ratsch turned to +me--'don't you imagine, my young friend, that that comes from our +excessive good-nature and meekness of spirit; it's simply that we fancy +ourselves so highly exalted that--oo-oo!--we can't keep our cap on our +head, as the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can +touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + +I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest spite, seemed +as it were boiling over in every word he uttered.... And long it must +have been rankling! It choked him. He tried to conclude his tirade with +his usual laugh, and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna +did not let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, +raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, stared straight +at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open eyes the hatred of long +years lay smouldering with dim, unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + +'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, with an +effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to suggest that I noticed +nothing, 'and so it is not surprising that you do not agree in your +opinions.... But, Ivan Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... +the side of the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I +must confess nothing in music has ever made such an impression on me as +the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just played us.' + +Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + +'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from the fit of +coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? We don't want that at +all! Freedom for the free, salvation for the saved! But as to the two +generations, that's right enough; we old folks find it hard to get on +with you young people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: +neither in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna +Ivanovna?' + +Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + +'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not agree, and +cannot agree,' she responded, and something menacing seemed to flit over +her brows, while her lips were faintly trembling as before. + +'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a philosopher! I'm not +capable of... rising so superior! I'm a plain man, swayed by +prejudices--oh yes!' + +Susanna smiled again. + +'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able to place +yourself above what are called prejudices.' + +'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + +'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + +Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + +'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + +'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + +There followed a brief silence. + +'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare you... +such insolence...' + +Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and still +holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on them with her +fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She seemed to challenge him to +conflict, to stand up to meet him. Her face was changed; it became +suddenly, in one instant, extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a +sort of bright, cold brilliance--the brilliance of steel--gleamed in her +lustreless eyes; the lips that had been quivering were compressed in one +straight, mercilessly stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he +gazed blankly, and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to +say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran of the year +twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake about that. + +Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though calling upon me +to witness her victory, and the humiliation of her foe, and, smiling +once more, she walked out of the room. + +The veteran remained a little while motionless in his arm-chair; at +last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, he roused himself, got +up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, laughed his noisy guffaw. + +'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've been living +with that young lady, and yet she never can see when I'm joking, and +when I'm in earnest! And you too, my young friend, are a little puzzled, +I do believe.... Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + +'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling of some +alarm and disgust. + +'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he repeated, +stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied me into the passage. +'I may be a tiresome person, knocked about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a +good-hearted fellow, 'pon my soul, I am!' + +I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed with all +speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + + +XIV + + +'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I returned +homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a wretch of a man, and +she's a good girl. But what has there been between them? What is the +reason of this continual exasperation? What was the meaning of those +hints? And how suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + +Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to see +Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had only just been +licensed for performance after being first disfigured by the censors' +mutilations. We warmly applauded Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember +what actor took the part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was +indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a Hungarian jacket, +and boots with tassels, and came on later in a frockcoat of the colour +'flamme du punch,' then in fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as +suitable as it would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that +we were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, +probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was accepted as +correct and I believe it is acted in just the same way to-day. One of +the guests hopped excessively high, while his wig flew from side to +side, and the public roared with laughter. As we were coming out of the +theatre, we jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + +'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. 'How was +it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You must come and have +supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the supper!' + +Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of mind. His +little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and there were spots of +red on his face. + +'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + +'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little aside, and +pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle of the red and blue +notes then in use waved them in the air. + +Fustov was surprised. + +'Has your governor been so liberal?' + +Viktor chuckled. + +'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on your +intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose the old +skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, "if you like. Up to +twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you hear, inclusive! No, sir, this +was a gift from God in my destitution. A lucky chance.' + +'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + +Viktor frowned. + +'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a guardsman. He +only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a chain of circumstances! +It's worth telling... only this isn't the place. Come along to Yar's; +not a couple of steps. I'll stand the show, as I said!' + +We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without making any +objection. + + +XV + + +At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was served, champagne +was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting no detail, how he had in a +certain 'gay' house met this officer of the guards, a very nice chap and +of good family, only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made +friends, how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game of +'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to nothing, and with +the condition that the officer's winnings should go to the benefit of +Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his own benefit; how afterwards they had got +on to betting on the games. + +'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, 'I +hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at +first I was completely cleaned out.... A nice position! Only then--in +answer to whose prayers I can't say--fortune smiled. The other fellow +began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no time he'd lost +seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing, +but I'm not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I +popped on my hat and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie +with the governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another +bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + +We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing +with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his +society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being +very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more +loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making +on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and +his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and +after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a +badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging +expression on his distorted face. + +'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you please, what +do you look down on me for?' + +'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + +'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down on me, and +that person does too' (he pointed at me with his finger), 'so there! As +though you were yourself remarkable for such high and exalted +principles, and weren't just as much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse +even. Still waters... you know the proverb?' + +Fustov turned rather red. + +'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + +'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly everything +that's going on under my nose.... And I have nothing against it: first +it's not my principle to interfere, and secondly, my sister Susanna +Ivanovna hasn't always been so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down +on me?' + +'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! You're +drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the wall. 'He's swindled +some fool of his money, and now he's telling all sorts of lies!' + +Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his legs, which +were hanging over its arm. + +'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for with the +money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for lying. It's not my +fault that in her past Susanna Ivanovna...' + +'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your tongue... or...' + +'Or what?' + +'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + +'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge in flight. +He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! It stings--the truth +does, it seems!' + +'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his habitual +coolness and self-possession. + +'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + +'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted after us, 'he +despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + +Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had difficulty in +keeping up with him. All at once he stopped short and turned sharply +back. + +'Where are you going?' I asked. + +'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, God knows +what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see each other to-morrow. +Good-bye!' + +And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's hotel. + +Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, on going to +his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the country to his uncle's, +near Moscow. I inquired if he had left no note for me, but no note was +forth-coming. Then I asked the servant whether he knew how long +Alexander Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a +little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate Fustov's +exact address, and sauntered home, meditating deeply. This unexpected +absence from Moscow, in the winter, completed my utter perplexity. My +good aunt observed to me at dinner that I seemed continually expecting +something, and gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it +for the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'êtes pas amoureux?' she +cried at last, having previously got rid of her companions. But I +reassured her: no, I was not in love. + + +XVI + + +Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the Ratschs'. I +fancied that in their house I should be sure to find a solution of all +that absorbed my mind, that I could not make out.... But I should have +had to meet the veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous +evening--the February wind was howling angrily outside, the frozen snow +tapped at the window from time to time like coarse sand flung by a +mighty hand--I was sitting in my room, trying to read. My servant came, +and, with a mysterious air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I +was surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a late +hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door opened and with swift +step there walked in a woman, muffled up in a light summer cloak and a +yellow shawl. Abruptly she cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were +covered with snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so +astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to the window, +and leaning her shoulder against the wall, remained motionless; only her +bosom heaved convulsively and her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath +came with a faint moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no +slight trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my youth +and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes the fate of a whole +life was being decided--a bitter and terrible fate. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + +She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her voice failed +her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her heavy coils of black +hair fell about her face.... The snow had not melted from off it. + +'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, on the +sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + +'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to the +window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You could not +expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + +She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her eyes with a +violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, devouring sobs, filled the +room. I felt a tightness at my heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had +seen Susanna only twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but +I had regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at once +these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only weeps like that +in the presence of death! + +I stood like one condemned to death myself. + +'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, wiping +first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. I've come to +you....' She was still sobbing, but without tears. 'I've come.... You +know that Alexander Daviditch has gone away?' + +In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she glanced at +me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of course, you will have +pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There was no other course left her then! + +I did not know what answer to make.... + +'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' Susanna was +saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to question me; he thought I +should not tell him all the truth, he could think that of me! As though +I had ever deceived him!' + +She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch with her +nail the patterns of ice that covered the window-pane. I went hastily +into the next room, and sending my servant away, came back at once and +lighted another candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... +I was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the +window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how lightly she +was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a broad leather belt, +that was all. I went up to her, but she did not take any notice of me. + +'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying softly from +side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me this last... last blow!' +She turned suddenly to me. 'You know his address?' + +'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at his house. +He told me nothing of his intention; I had not seen him for two +days--went to inquire and he had already left Moscow.' + +'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him then that he +has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He did not talk to you of me, +I dare say, but he talked to me about you. Write... ah, write to him to +come back quickly, if he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find +me!...' + +Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was quieter +altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful than the previous +sobs. + +'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on her clasped +hands. + +A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp whistle and a +thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the room.... The candles +flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I begged her to sit on the sofa. + +'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. Please.' She +huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had found herself a refuge +in the recesses of the window. 'Please.' + +'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your shoes are +soaked.' + +'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + +A panic seized me. + +'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I entreat +you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? You will see, every +thing will be cleared up, some misunderstanding... some unlooked-for +chance.... You will see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I +will write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... Is it +possible!' + +'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same subdued +voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to you, to a stranger, if +I had not known I should not long be living? Ah, all my past has been +swept away beyond return! You see, I could not bear to die so, in +solitude, in silence, without saying to some one, "I've lost every +thing... and I'm dying.... Look!"' + +She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I forget that +head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out look, those dark, +disordered tresses against the pale window-pane, even the grey, narrow +gown, under every fold of which throbbed such young, passionate life! + +Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + +'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... You must +live!' + +She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + +'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both her hands. +'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to suffer, too much! I +lived through it.... I hoped... but now... when even this is +shattered... when...' + +She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into thought. The +tragic line, which I had once noticed about her lips, came out now still +more clearly; it seemed to spread across her whole face. It seemed as +though some relentless hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for +ever on this lost soul. + +She was still silent. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with anything; +'he will come back, I assure you!' + +Susanna looked at me again. + +'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + +'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come back!' + +'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come back, I +cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of faith....' + +She clutched at her head. + +'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is it all? +What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am going mad!...' + +Her eyes came to a rest. + +'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to remind +her. + +She started. + +'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' She +hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little manuscript +book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran away.... But he +believed... he believed him!' + +I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would not +mention him, would not utter his detested name. + +'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you suppose +that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with that person?' + +'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, and bragged +of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! Here, here, take it,' +she went on, thrusting the manuscript into my hand, 'read it, send it to +him, burn it, throw it away, do what you like, as you please.... But I +can't die like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must +go.' + +She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + +'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, what a +storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And your home is not +near here. Let me at least go for a carriage, for a sledge....' + +'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me and taking +up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's sake! or... I can't +answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a dark abyss under my feet.... +Don't come near me, don't touch me!' With feverish haste she put on her +cloak, arranged her shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy +people, for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever cared +for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; one man loved +me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but death is all about me, +death and no escape! Now it is my turn.... Don't come after me,' she +cried shrilly. 'Don't come! don't come!' + +I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, I heard the +slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the window panes shook +again under the violent onslaught of the blast. + +I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life in those +days: I had had no experience of passion nor of suffering, and had +rarely witnessed any manifestation of strong feeling in others.... But +the sincerity of this suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it +had not been for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I +had dreamed it all--it was all so unlikely, and swooped by like a +passing storm. I was till midnight reading the manuscript. It consisted +of several sheets of letter-paper, closely covered with a large, +irregular writing, almost without an erasure. Not a single line was +quite straight, and one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited +trembling of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the +manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + + +XVII + +MY STORY + + +I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest +recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the country house +of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, in a small room on the +second storey. With me lived my mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead +painter, who had come from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an +extraordinarily beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, +that sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at her, I +was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I would burst into tears +and rush to embrace her. I had tutors come to me; I had music lessons, +and was called 'miss.' I dined at the master's table together with my +mother. Mr. Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately +manner; he always smelt of _ambre_. I stood in mortal terror of him, +though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy hand to kiss under +its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was elaborately courteous, but he +talked little even with her. He would say two or three affable words, to +which she promptly made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit +looking about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of Spanish +snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms of the Empress +Catherine on it. + +My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I learnt then, +from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky was +my father, and almost on the same day, my mother, by his command, was +married to Mr. Ratsch, who was something like a steward to him. I was +utterly unable to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was +bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the strain, my +mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, mamma,' I asked her, +'that scented bogey' (that was my name for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my +father?' My mother was terribly scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never +speak to any one of that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a +word!'... she repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her +bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That prohibition of +my mother's I understood.... I understood that I must be silent, that my +mother begged my forgiveness! + +My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love my mother, +and she did not love him. He married her for money, and she was obliged +to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably considered that in this way everything +had been arranged for the best, _la position était régularisée_. I +remember the day before the marriage my mother and I--both locked in +each other's arms--wept almost the whole morning--bitterly, +bitterly--and silently. It is not strange that she was silent.... What +could she say to me? But that I did not question her shows that unhappy +children learn wisdom sooner than happy ones... to their cost. + +Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, and even by +degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did not talk to me... but +morning and evening, after flicking the snuff from his jabot with two +fingers, he would with the same two fingers--always icy cold--pat me on +the cheek and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also +smelling of _ambre_, which I never ate. At twelve years old I +became his reader---_sa petite lectrice_. I read him French books +of the last century, the memoirs of Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, +Helvetius, Voltaire's correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course +without understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, he +ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien remarquable!' +Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He had lived in Paris till +the Revolution, remembered Marie Antoinette, and had received an +invitation to Trianon to see her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, +according to his account, wore very large buttons--_exagéré en +tout_, and was altogether a man of _mauvais ton, en dépit de sa +naissance!_ Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that time; but +two or three times a year, addressing himself to the crooked old +emigrant whom he had taken into his house, and called for some unknown +reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, +the impromptu he had once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de +Polignac. I remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a +comparison between the Russians and the French: + + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austères + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' + + +'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every time +exclaim. + +Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: his cheeks +were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and immobile, his eyes +agreeable and expressive, clear, black eyes, perfect agate. He was not +at all unreasonable, and was very courteous with every one, even with +the servants.... But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy +I always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his presence! Ah, +I was not to blame for them!... I was not to blame for what they had +made of me.... + +Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far from the +big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a cheerless life I led +there. She soon gave birth to a son, Viktor, this same Viktor whom I +have every right to think and to call my enemy. From the time of his +birth my mother never regained her health, which had always been weak. +Mr. Ratsch did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of +good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air and tried +to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he was cruel and rude. I +felt relief when I retired from Ivan Matveitch's presence; but my own +home too I was glad to leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed +from one shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I would +run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep snow, in a thin +frock--run to the big house to read to Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be +glad to go.... But when I was there, when I saw those great cheerless +rooms, the bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and +heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the white jabot and +white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over his fingers, with a +_soupçon_ of powder (so his valet expressed it) on his combed-back +hair, I felt choked by the stifling scent of _ambre_, and my heart +sank. Ivan Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall +behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, with a +bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a sumptuous Hebrew +costume, and simply covered with precious stones, with diamonds.... I +often stole a glance at this picture, but only later on I learned that +it was the portrait of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan +Matveitch's request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had +he succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! Loved +that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! Love him!' And yet, +when I recalled some of my mother's glances, some half-uttered phrases +and unconscious gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated +with horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such feelings! + +Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or four hours +together.... So much reading in such a loud voice was harmful to me. Our +doctor was anxious about my lungs and even once communicated his fears +to Ivan Matveitch. But the old man only smiled--no; he never smiled, but +somehow sharpened and moved forward his lips--and told him: 'Vous ne +savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette jeunesse.' 'In former +years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... the doctor ventured to observe. +Ivan Matveitch smiled as before. 'Vous rêvez, mon cher,' he interposed: +'le commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache à chaque mot. J'aime les +voix jeunes.' + +And I still went on reading, though my cough was very troublesome in the +mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan Matveitch made me play the +piano. But music always had a soporific influence on his nerves. His +eyes closed at once, his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, +'C'est du Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan Matveitch +looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had succeeded in overcoming +in himself 'la grossière lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault +with him for one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When +Ivan Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would offer me +'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped by.... + +And then one night--a night never to be forgotten!--a terrible calamity +fell upon me. My mother died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. +Oh, what a sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down +upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with death! My poor +mother! Strange were our relations; we passionately loved each other... +passionately and hopelessly; we both as it were treasured up and hid +from each other our common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, +though we knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even of +the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to me, and she +never complained in words, though her whole being was nothing but one +dumb complaint. We avoided all conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I +kept hoping that the hour would come, and she would open her heart at +last, and I too should speak out, and both of us would be more at +ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, shrinking temper, +illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and most of all the eternal +question,--what is the use? and the relentless, unbroken flowing away of +time, of life.... All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the +words which would have loosed us from the burden of our secret--even the +last dying words of leave-taking--I was not destined to hear from my +mother! All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, 'Susanna +Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you her blessing!' and +then the pale hand stretched out from the heavy counterpane, the +agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... Oh, enough! enough! + +With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity I looked +next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the face of my father... +yes, my father! In my dead mother's writing-case were found his letters. +I fancied he looked a little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was +stirring in that heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to +his room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to read: +'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur l'histoire de France de +Mably, à la page 74... là où nous avons ètè interrompus.' And he had +not even had my mother's portrait moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed +call me to him, and giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he +observed: 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mère vous a privée de votre appui +naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter sur ma protection,' but with +the other hand he gave me at once a slight push on the shoulder, and, +with the sharpening of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he +added, 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you +know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + +Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in all its +glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat on the new grave. I +did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was filling my brain: 'Do you +hear, mother? He means to extend his protection to me, too!' And it +seemed to me that my mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which +it instinctively called up on my lips. + +At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to wring--not a +confession... no, indeed! but, at least, one warm word of kinship from +Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know what he was, and how little he was like +all that I pictured in my dreams as a _father_!... But I was so +lonely, so alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave +me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him for +something?' + +Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the monotonous round of +life, marked out and arranged for us. Viktor was growing into a boy. I +was eight years older and would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. +Ratsch opposed my doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep +strict watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow me +to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One day Mr. Ratsch +came into my room, perturbed, excited, and angry. On the previous +evening unpleasant rumours had reached me about my stepfather; the +servants were talking of his having been caught embezzling a +considerable sum of money, and taking bribes from a merchant. + +'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the table with his +fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan Matveitch.' + +'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + +'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm accused... +well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to eat, and you, too.' + +'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + +'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + +'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + +'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. Do you mean +to tell me you don't understand that?' + +He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks simply burning. +Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged in a rush upon me, drowning +me. + +'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at last--my own +voice seemed strange to me--'and I am not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I +will not ask him for anything. Bread, or no bread!' + +Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his fists. + +'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. 'I won't +forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for him, and, I was told, +shook his cane at him, the very cane which he had once exchanged with +the Due de la Rochefoucauld, and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and +extortioner! I put you outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak +Russian at all, and despised our 'coarse jargon,' _ce jargon vulgaire +et rude_. Some one once said before him, 'That same's self-understood.' +Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and often afterwards quoted the phrase +as an example of the senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. +'What does it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in Russian, +with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply that's understood, and why +same and self?' + +Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did not even +deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept his word: he never +forgot it. + +I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was low-spirited, +depressed, his health broke down a little. His fresh, rosy face grew +yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front tooth. He quite ceased going out, +and gave up the reception-days he had established for the peasants, +without the assistance of the priest, _sans le concours du clergé_. +On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in the habit of going in to the +peasants in the hall or on the balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, +and putting his lips to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a +speech something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even as I +am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We are all _brothers_; +at our birth we are equal; I drink your health!' He bowed to them, and +the peasants bowed to him, but only from the waist, no prostrating +themselves to the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were +entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no longer +showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he interrupted my reading with +exclamations: 'La machine se détraque! Cela se gâte!' Even his +eyes--those bright, stony eyes--began to grow dim and, as it were, +smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and breathed hard in his sleep. His +manner with me was unchanged; only a shade of chivalrous deference began +to be perceptible in it. He never failed to get up--though with +difficulty--from his chair when I came in, conducted me to the door, +supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and instead of Suzon began +to call me sometimes, 'ma chère demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' +M. le Commandeur died two years after my mother's death; his death +seemed to affect Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had +disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later years M. le +Commandeur's sole service had consisted in crying, 'Bien joué, mal +réussi!' every time Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards +with Mr. Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed him +at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le Commandeur, +c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses _Lettres Persanes_?' he had +still, sometimes dropping a spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded +profoundly: 'Ah, Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand écrivain, monsieur, +un grand écrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch told him that 'les +théophilanthropes ont eu pourtant du bon!' the old man cried in an +excited voice, 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the +course of twenty years in learning to pronounce his patron's name +correctly), 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de +cette secte, ce La Reveillère Lepeaux était un bonnet rouge!' 'Non, +non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and rolling together a pinch of +snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out +eu du bon, ils out eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of +Ivan Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his knowledge to +himself. + +Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a good face on +it. One day, three weeks before his death, he had a violent attack of +giddiness just after dinner. He sank into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' +and pulling himself together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to +Petersburg to his sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no +intercourse for twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a +neighbour paid him a visit--a German, a Catholic--once a distinguished +physician, who was living in retirement in his little place in the +country. He was very rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always +received him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect for +him. He was almost the only person in the world he did respect. The old +man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a priest, but Ivan Matveitch +responded that 'ces messieurs et moi, nous n'avons rien à nous dire,' +and begged him to change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he +gave his valet orders to admit no one in future. + +Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there were blue +patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and stiff, his jaw hung +down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he said, with difficulty articulating +the consonants, but still trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous +allez peut-être bientót rester seule. Soyez toujours sage et vertueuse. +C'est la dernière récommandation d'un'--he coughed--'d'un vieillard qui +vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommandé à mon frère et je ne doute pas +qu'il ne respecte mes volontés....' He coughed again, and anxiously felt +his chest. 'Du reste, j'esèpre encore pouvoir faire quelque chose pour +vous... dans mon testament.' This last phrase cut me to the heart, like +a knife. Ah, it was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan +Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling--to a feeling of grief +or gratitude--what was expressed in my face, and as though wishing to +comfort me, he patted me on the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, +gently repelling me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous +sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. Ce n'est +qu'une précaution que j'ai cru devoir prendre.... Allez!' + +Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's death, I longed +to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! your daughter!' But I thought +in those words, in that cry of the heart, he would doubtless hear +nothing but a desire to assert my rights, my claims on his property, on +his money.... Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to +this man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in whose +eyes I was of so little account that he did not even trouble himself to +ascertain whether I was aware of my parentage! Or, perhaps, he +suspected, even knew it, and did not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite +saying of his, almost the only Russian expression he ever used), did not +care to deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! Let +him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her mother! Let him +carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I swore he should not hear +from my lips the word which must have something of a sweet and holy +sound in every ear! I would not say to him father! I would not forgive +him for my mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of +that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt no need of +it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should not, he should not! + +God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my heart would +not have softened, whether I should not have overcome my shyness, my +shame, and my pride... but it happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with +my mother. Death carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was +again Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to Ivan +Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last dying gestures, +which had left such a vivid impression on my memory at my mother's +bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged pillows lay a sort of withered, +dark-coloured doll, with sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I +shrieked with horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways +against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, and found +myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + +I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the bedroom, at a +violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan Matveitch not in the bed, but a +few feet from it. And that he was sitting huddled up on the floor, and +that twice over he repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for +you!' And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe that. Was +it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, and such a homely old +Russian saying too! + +For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival of the new +master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders that nothing was to +be touched, no one was to be discharged, till he had looked into +everything in person. All the doors, all the furniture, drawers, +tables--all were locked and sealed up. All the servants were downcast +and apprehensive. I became suddenly one of the most important persons in +the house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as 'the +young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to take a new +significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar emphasis. It began to +be whispered that 'the old master had died suddenly, and hadn't time to +send for a priest, indeed and he hadn't been at confession for many a +long day; but still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + +Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. He did not +affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he would not impose upon +me, but his face wore an expression of sulky resignation. 'You see, I +give in,' he seemed to say. Every one showed me deference, and tried to +please me... while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could +only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were hurting me. At +last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + +Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, and his +whole life had taken a completely different turn. He was a government +official in Petersburg, filling an important position.... He had married +and been left early a widower; he had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch +was like his brother, only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round +bald head, bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more +prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he spoke of even +after his death as a French philosopher, and sometimes bluntly as a +queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost invariably talked Russian, loudly +and fluently, and he was constantly laughing, completely closing his +eyes as he did so and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though +he were shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went +into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from every one. +The very first day of his arrival he ordered a service with holy water, +and sprinkled everything with water, all the rooms in the house, even +the lofts and the cellars, in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel +the Voltairean and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan +Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was even +banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was inflicted on others; +the old valet--he was a Turk, knew French, and had been given to Ivan +Matveitch by the late field-marshal Kamensky--received his freedom, +indeed, but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, 'as +an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be a harsh master; +many probably regretted the late owner. + +'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit with age, +wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see that the linen put +out was clean, and that the rooms smelt sweet, and that the servants' +voices weren't heard in the passages--God forbid! For the rest, you +might do as you pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! +Ah, it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + +Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in the +position in which I had been placed for a few days against my own +will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan Matveitch's papers, not a +line written for my benefit. At once every one seemed in haste to avoid +me.... I am not speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry +with me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived them. + +One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at the altar, +Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had seen him by glimpses, +and he seemed not to have noticed me. He received me in his study, +standing at the window. He was wearing an official uniform with two +stars. I stood still, near the door; my heart was beating violently from +fear and from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I +wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, glancing first at +my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. The look was like a slap in the +face. 'I wished to see you to inform you of my decision, and to assure +you of my unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised +his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my brother's +reader you may always reckon on my... my consideration. I am... of +course convinced of your good sense and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, +your stepfather, has already received from me the necessary +instructions. To which I must add that your attractive exterior seems to +me a pledge of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went +off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended exactly... but I +suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and at that moment I fully +realised how utterly forsaken and alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went +with short, firm steps to the table, took a roll of notes out of the +drawer, and putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from +me for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; but +good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the roll +mechanically: I should have taken anything he had offered me, and going +back to my own room, a long while I wept, sitting on my bed. I did not +notice that I had dropped the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +found it and picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, +kept it for himself. + +An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in those days. +After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, he became a great +favourite, and soon after received the position of head steward. From +that time dates his cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it +was an effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became a +habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. Semyon +Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he called himself 'a +true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the European dress, which he wore +however. He sent away to a remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan +Matveitch had spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known +how to prepare pickled giblets. + +Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the responses +with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were brought together to dance +and sing choruses, he would join in their songs too, and beat time with +his feet, and pinch their cheeks.... But he soon went back to +Petersburg, leaving my stepfather practically in complete control of the +whole property. + +Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, and I gave +myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately Mr. Ratsch was very +fully occupied, but he took every opportunity to make me feel his +hostility; as he had promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He +ill-treated me, made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon +Matveitch, and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to +obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he meant to +tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you mean by those mutinous +eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, drinking his beer, and slapping +the table with his hand. 'You think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, +so you must be all right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a +sheep too!' My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was +growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more frequently to +stir within it. I passed nights without sleep and without a light, +thinking, thinking incessantly; and in the darkness without and the +gloom within, a fearful determination began to shape itself. The arrival +of Semyon Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + +No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring in +unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the Alexander ribbon, +and they had presented him with a snuff-box. Discontented with the +government, which had failed to appreciate his talents, and with +Petersburg society, which had shown him little sympathy, and did not +share his indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and +devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived alone. His +son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the holidays for the New Year. +My stepfather was scarcely ever out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still +stood high in his good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for +me then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start a paper +factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of manufacturing work, and +Semyon Matveitch was aware of the fact; but then my stepfather was an +active man (the favourite expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That +was just what Semyon Matveitch used to call him--'my Araktcheev!' +'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there is zeal, I +myself will direct it.' In the midst of his numerous occupations--he had +to superintend the factory, the estate, the foundation of a +counting-house, the drawing up of counting-house regulations, the +creation of new offices and duties--Semyon Matveitch still had time to +attend to me. + +I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to play the +piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less than his brother; he +praised and thanked me, however, and next day I was invited to dine at +the master's table. After dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long +conversation with me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, +though there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at me +so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his eyes, I did not +like their open expression, their clear glance.... It always seemed to +me that this very openness concealed something evil, that under that +clear brilliance it was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my +reader,' Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and setting +himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank God, not blind yet, +and can read myself; but coffee will taste better to me from your little +hands, and I shall listen to your playing with pleasure.' From that day +I always went over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in +the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was in favour: +it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon Matveitch, I am bound to own, +showed me a certain respect, but in the man there was, I felt it, +something that repelled and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed +itself not in words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his +laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and it seemed +to me that he avoided the subject, not because he did not want to excite +ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, but from another cause, to which I +could not give a definite shape, but which made me blush and feel +bewildered.... Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + +Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are too +painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... But what is +the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he loved me. + +How it came to pass--I am not going to describe that either. From the +very evening when he came into the drawing-room--I was at the piano, +playing a sonata of Weber's when he came in--handsome and slender, in a +velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he was, +straight from the frost outside, and shaking his snow-sprinkled, sable +cap, before he had greeted his father, glanced swiftly at me, and +wondered--I knew that from that evening I could never forget him--I +could never forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his +voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, and in every +sound such a true, honest nature! + +Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced him, but +at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' and sent me away. + +I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights flitting to and +fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched them, I listened to the +new, unfamiliar voices; I was attracted by the cheerful commotion, and +something new, unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next +day before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had come +across to see my stepfather with some message from Semyon Matveitch, and +he found me in our little sitting-room. I was getting up to go; he +detained me. He was very lively and unconstrained in all his movements +and words, but of superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of +Petersburg superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the +officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very freedom of +his manner there was something appealing, almost shamefaced, as though +he were begging you to overlook something. Some people's eyes are never +laughing, even at the moment of laughter; with _him_ it was the +lips that almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes were +almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an hour... what about I +don't remember; I remember only that I looked him straight in the face +all the while, and oh, how delightfully at ease I felt with him! + +In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of music, and he +sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly head on his arm, he +listened intently. He did not once praise me, but I felt that he liked +my playing, and I played with ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting +near his son, looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, +madam,' he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as his +manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away like a canary? +It's enough to make one's head ache. For us old folks you wouldn't exert +yourself so, no fear...' he added in an undertone, and again he sent me +away. Michel followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his +seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried Semyon +Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said something more... I +could not catch his words; but Mr. Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a +corner of the drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he +had brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my ears.... +The same thing, or almost the same thing, was repeated the following +evening... Semyon Matveitch grew suddenly cooler to me. + +Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the big house +in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a room near the +dining-room, which was called the portrait gallery. I followed him, not +without emotion, but with perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I +would have followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no +suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with all the +passion, all the despair of a young creature who not only has no one to +love, but feels herself an uninvited and unnecessary guest among +strangers, among enemies!... Michel said to me--and it was strange! I +looked boldly, directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and +flushed slightly--he said to me that he understood my position, and +sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive his father.... 'As far as +I'm concerned,' he added, 'I beseech you always to trust me, and believe +me, to me you 're a sister--yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand +warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had somehow +expected something else, some other word. I began to thank him. 'No, +please,'--he cut me short--'don't talk like that.... But remember, it's +a brother's duty to defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, +against any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, but I +have seen a good deal already... and among other things, I see through +your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand again, and left me. + +I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. Ratsch from +his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried to ingratiate himself +with him too, but becoming convinced of the uselessness of his efforts, +promptly took up himself an attitude of hostility to him, and not only +did not disguise it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no +opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his regret that +he had been so unlucky as to displease the young heir. Mr. Ratsch had +carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's character; his calculations did not +lead him astray. 'This man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the +very reason that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot +endure him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's head. +They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are readily caught by +that bait, the bait of exclusive personal devotion.... + +Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his Araktcheev.... +He might well have called him another name too. 'You're not one to make +difficulties,' he used to say to him. He had begun in this +condescendingly familiar tone with him from the very first, and my +stepfather would gaze fondly at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop +deprecatingly on one side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as +though to say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + +Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against the table +on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for me to recall those +days, and my blood boils.... But I will tell everything to the end... to +the end! + +A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me during my brief +period of favour. He began to be deferential to me, to be respectfully +familiar with me, as though I had grown sensible, and become more on a +level with him. 'You've done with your airs and graces,' he said to me +one day, as we were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite +right too! All those fine principles and delicate sentiments--moral +precepts in fact--are not for us, young lady, they're not for poor +folks.' + +When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it necessary +to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his sympathy with me, the +latter suddenly redoubled his severity with me; he was continually +following me about, as though I were capable of any crime, and must be +sharply looked after. 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting +without knocking into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his +head; 'I won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up +airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud spirit.' + +And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree had gone +forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear at the dinner-table +for the future without special invitation.... I don't know how all this +would have ended if it had not been for an event which was the final +turning-point of my destiny.... + +Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his head to +break in a young horse, which went well for a while, then began kicking +and flung him out of the sledge.... He was brought home unconscious, +with a broken arm and bruises on his chest. His father was +panic-stricken; he sent for the best doctors from the town. They did a +great deal for Michel; but he had to lie down for a month. He did not +play cards, the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him +to read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended by +Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old capacity of reader. + +Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to Michel +directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table in the +half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a little room out of +the drawing-room, at the further end, on a broad leather sofa in the +Empire style, with a gold bas-relief on its high, straight back. The +bas-relief represented a marriage procession among the ancients. +Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always moved at once, +and his pale face turned towards me: he smiled, his whole face +brightened, he flung back his soft, damp curls, and said to me softly, +'Good-morning, my kind sweet girl.' I took up the book--Walter Scott's +novels were at the height of their fame in those days--the reading of +Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection in my mind.... I +could not help my voice thrilling and quivering as I gave utterance to +Rebecca's speeches. I, too, had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like +hers? Was I not, like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every +time I removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met his +eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. We talked very +little; the door into the drawing-room was invariably open and some one +was always sitting there; but whenever it was quiet there, I used, I +don't know why, to cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he +looked at me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and +shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other then without a +gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came together, ran to meet each +other, as underground streams flow together, unseen, unheard... and +irresistibly. + +'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + +'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + +'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up the table.' + +I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not dare +glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the room, how freely I +had gazed at him! + +I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + +'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an undertone, +also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer me.' + +I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, moved a +pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at him. His head was +stretched a little forward; pale all over, with imploring eyes he signed +towards my hand... + +Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something +instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely breathing, +I took up the knight and moved it right across the board. Michel bent +down swiftly, and catching my fingers with his lips, and pressing them +against the board, he began noiselessly and passionately kissing +them.... I had no power, I had no wish to draw them back; with my other +hand I hid my face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... +oh, what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, I knew, +with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that he was who held my +hand in his power! I knew that he was not a boy, carried away by a +momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, not a military Lovelace, but one of +the noblest, the best of men... and he loved me! + +'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make you shed +other tears than these.' + +He was wrong... he did. + +But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... especially, +especially now? + +Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that Semyon +Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not conceal it from +me. I had no doubt about it myself and I rejoiced, not that he did not +deceive me--he _could not_ deceive--but that he did not try to +delude himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have followed +where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he repeated to me. 'I am +not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is not with Lady Rowena.' + +Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going to see him, +but everything was decided between us. I was already entirely absorbed +in the future; I saw nothing of what was passing around me, as though I +were floating on a glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. +But we were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I noticed +my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his loathsome laugh.... But +that laugh, those eyes as it were emerged for an instant from the +mist... I shuddered, but forgot it directly, and surrendered myself +again to the glorious, swift river... + +On the day before the departure of Michel--we had planned together that +he was to turn back secretly on the way and fetch me--I received from +him through his trusted valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him +at half-past nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched +room, built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that he +absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had twice already +met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the key of the outer door. As +soon as it struck half-past nine I threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, +stepped quietly out of the lodge, and made my way successfully over the +crackling snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood +a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind whistled +shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver passed over me, but I put +the key into the lock, went into the room, closed the door behind me, +turned round... A dark figure became visible against one of the walls, +took a couple of steps forward, stopped... + +'Michel,' I whispered. + +'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a voice, +which seemed to rend my heart... + +Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + +I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + +'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite equal to +stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have to be equal to the +consequences.' + +I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the door... In vain! +Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon Matveitch held me tight. + +'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + +'I tell you you shan't stir!' + +Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness I could not +distinguish his face. I had turned away from him too, but I heard him +breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I felt neither fear nor despair, +but a sort of senseless amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb +like that in the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which +still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious claw.... + +'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's come to +this... Ah, wait a bit!' + +I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I almost +shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and menace burst upon +me... + +'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + +Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not control +myself... I screamed. + +That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little quieter, let +go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps from me, between me and +the door. + +A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily as before. + +'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see that your +morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you are still capable of +listening to the voice of reason. Impulsive folly I can overlook, but +stubborn obstinacy--never! My son...' there was a catch in his +breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? Hasn't he? +Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + +I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost flying into +fury again. + +'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after a brief +pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my daughter-in-law? A pretty +notion! But you're not a child of four years old, and you must be fully +aware that young boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if +only they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could you +suppose that I--a noble gentleman of ancient family, Semyon Matveitch +Koltovsky--would ever give my consent to such a marriage? Or did you +mean to dispense with the parental blessing?... Did you mean to run +away, get married in secret, and then come back, go through a nice +little farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old man +will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + +I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to speak--that +was not in his power. + +He walked up and down a little. + +'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You mustn't think... +don't imagine... I see one must talk to you in a different manner. +Listen; I understand your position. You are frightened, upset.... Pull +yourself together. At this moment I must seem to you a monster... a +despot. But put yourself in my position too; how could I help being +indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you that I am +not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember how I treated you on my +arrival here and afterwards till... till lately... till the illness of +Mihail Semyonitch. I don't wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should +have thought simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the +slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + +Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still patted me +lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still ached from his violence, +and was for long after marked with blue bruises. + +'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a little +headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to think, we don't care to +consider what our advantage consists in and where we ought to seek it. +You ask me: where that advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... +It's, maybe, close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of +the family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm a man +at the same time, and you know that very well. Undoubtedly I'm a +practical person and of course cannot tolerate any sentimental nonsense; +expectations that are quite inconsistent with everything, you must of +course dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in +them?--not to speak of the immorality of such a proceeding.... You will +assuredly realise all this yourself, when you have thought it over a +little. And I say, simply and straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine +myself to what I have done for you. I have always been prepared--and I +am still prepared--to put your welfare on a sound footing, to guarantee +you a secure position, because I know your value, I do justice to your +talents, and your intelligence, and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch +stooped down to me a little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... +though I am not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I +understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy matter.' + +These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe my ears. +For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch meant to bribe me +to break with Michel, to pay me 'compensation.'... But what was he +saying? My eyes had begun to get used to the darkness and I could make +out Semyon Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was +walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly before me.... + +'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer please you?' + +'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not understand a +word. + +Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting thin laugh. + +'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young women'--he corrected +himself--'young ladies... young ladies... you all dream of nothing +else... you must have young men! You can't live without love! Of course +not. Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that it's +only young men that can love?... There are some older men, whose hearts +are warmer... and when once an old man does take a fancy to any one, +well--he's simply like a rock! It's for ever! Not like these beardless, +feather-brained young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! +They can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! Yes... yes! +And as for kissing, old men know all about that too, he-he-he...' Semyon +Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, please... your little hand... just as a +proof... that's all....' + +I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him a blow in +the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of decrepit, scared sound, he +almost fell down. There are no words in human language to express how +loathsome and infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had +left me. + +'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get away, Mr. +Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! I, too, am of your +blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I curse the day and the hour +when I was born of that ancient family!' + +'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon Matveitch, +gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very minute when I've caught +you... when you came to meet Misha... eh? eh? eh?' + +But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, desperate was +roused up within me. + +'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the insolence, +you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be so blind as not to +have seen long ago the loathing you arouse in me?... You dare use the +word offer!... Let me out at once, this instant!' + +I moved towards the door. + +'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon Matveitch piped +shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but obviously not able to make up his +mind to come near me.... 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come +here!' + +The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near flew wide +open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted candelabrum in each +hand. His round, red face, lighted up on both sides, was beaming with +the triumph of satisfied revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered +valuable service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I cease +to behold them? + +'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon Matveitch, +turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing to me with a shaking +hand. 'Be so good as to take her home and put her under lock and key... +so that she... can't stir a finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! +Till further orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll +answer for her with your head!' + +Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made Semyon +Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a malignant smile, +moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, approaches a mouse who has no chance +of escape in that way. All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the +man was capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! oh +ignominy! I shivered. + +'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + +He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He saw that I +should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed forward towards the door; +at that instant I had but one thought in my mind, to escape as quickly +as possible from the presence of Semyon Matveitch. + +But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and Ratsch +stopped me and turned me round face to face with his patron. + +'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the brother... +of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a cousin, a first cousin you +could marry? You could? eh? Take her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. +'And remember, keep a sharp look-out! The slightest communication with +her--and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + +Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, he said +nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He closed the +shutters and the doors, and then, as he was finally returning, he bowed +low to me as he had to Semyon Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, +triumphant guffaw! + +'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she didn't catch +her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad idea in its way! It's a +lesson for the future: not to keep up correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How +capitally it has all turned out though!' He went out, and all of a +sudden poked his head in at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? +Hey? I kept my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I +breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... but they +were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched the silken cord off my +dressing-gown, made a noose, and was putting it on my neck, but I flung +the cord aside again at once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What +madness, really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my +life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel wretches! No! +You have not won your game yet! He will save me, he will tear me out of +this hell, he... my Michel!' + +But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and I flung +myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and sobbed.... And only +the thought that my tormentor was perhaps at the door, listening and +triumphing, only that thought forced me to swallow my tears.... + +I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it is evening; +if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I shall not be capable +of taking up the pen again.... I must hasten, hasten to the finish! And +besides, to dwell on the hideous things that followed that dreadful day +is beyond my strength! + +Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an isolated hut, +surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, and kept shut up for six +whole weeks! I was not for one instant alone.... Later on I learnt that +my stepfather had set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his +arrival, that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's note. +I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene had taken place the +next morning between the son and the father.... The father had cursed +him. Michel for his part had sworn he would never set foot in his +father's house again, and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed +at me by my stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch +announced that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the +estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an unpardonable +offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear the brunt of the +_scandal_. Semyon Matveitch recompensed Mr. Ratsch liberally, +however: he gave him the necessary means to move to Moscow and to +establish himself there. Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought +back to the lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The +loss of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived 'thanks +to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage against me more than +ever. + +'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting with +indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got a little too +hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he made a mess of it; now, +of course, his vanity's hurt, there's no setting the mischief right +again now! If you'd only waited a day or two, it'd all have been right +as a trivet; you wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have +stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but their wit is +short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, and that pretty young +gentleman shall smart for it too!' + +I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. Semyon Matveitch +I did not once see again. The separation from his son had been a shock +to him too. Whether he felt remorse or--which is far more likely--wished +to bind me for ever to my home, to my family--my family!--anyway, he +assigned me a pension, which was to be paid into my stepfather's hands, +and to be given to me till I married.... This humiliating alms, this +pension I still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for +me.... + +We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor mother, I would +not have remained two days, not two hours, with my stepfather, after +once reaching the town... I would have gone away, not knowing where... +to the police; I would have flung myself at the feet of the +governor-general, of the senators; I don't know what I would have done, +if it had not happened, at the very moment of our starting from the +country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give me a letter +from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I read over each line, how +many times I covered it with kisses! Michel besought me not to lose +heart, to go on hoping, to believe in his unchanging love; he swore that +he would never belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he +promised to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, he +asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a little.... + +And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not have +agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his will! That +letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my anchor. Sometimes when +my stepfather would begin abusing and insulting me, I would softly lay +my hand on my bosom (I wore Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and +only smile. And the more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, +lighter, and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at last, +by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was going out of my +mind.... Following on this first letter came a second, still more full +of hope.... It spoke of our meeting soon. + +Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can see Mr. +Ratsch coming in--and triumph again, malignant triumph, in his face--and +in his hands a page of the _Invalid_, and there the announcement of +the death of the Captain of the Guards--Mihail Koltovsky. + +What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. Ratsch's +house. He hated me as before--more than before--he had unmasked his +black soul too much before me, he could not pardon me that. But that was +of no consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my own +fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think of him! I had no +interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel died with my name on his +lips.... I was told so by a servant, devoted to him, who had been with +him when he came into the country. The same year my stepfather married +Eleonora Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he +secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... In the +event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + +Two--three--years passed... six years, seven years.... Life has been +passing, ebbing away... while I merely watched how it was ebbing. As in +childhood, on some river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, +and tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking through, +from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, and then you abandon +all your vain efforts, and you are glad instead to watch all that you +had guarded ebbing away to the last drop.... + +So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray of warmth +and light....' + +The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves had been +torn off, and several lines completing the sentence had been crossed +through and blotted out. + + +XVIII + + +The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression made by +Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep all night, and +early in the morning I sent an express messenger to Fustov with a +letter, in which I besought him to come to Moscow as soon as possible, +as his absence might have the most terrible results. I mentioned also my +interview with Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. +After having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all day, +and pondered all the time on what might be happening at the Ratsches'. I +could not make up my mind to go there myself. I could not help noticing +though that my aunt was in a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to +be burnt every minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the +traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never succeed. The +visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late hour, had not been kept +secret from her: her imagination at once pictured a yawning abyss on the +edge of which I was standing, and she was continually sighing and +moaning and murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript +book entitled _Extraits de Lecture_. In the evening I found on the +little table at my bedside the treatise of De Girando, laid open at the +chapter: On the evil influence of the passions. This book had been put +in my room, at my aunt's instigation of course, by the elder of her +companions, who was called in the household Amishka, from her +resemblance to a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, +not to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the following day +was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's coming, of a letter from +him, of news from the Ratsches' house... though on what ground could +they have sent to me? Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit +her.... But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her without +first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression in my letter to +him.... I thought it was strong enough; at last, late in the evening, he +appeared. + + +XIX + + +He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate step. His +face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces of the fatigue of +the journey, there was an expression of astonishment, curiosity, and +dissatisfaction--emotions of which he had little experience as a rule. I +rushed up to him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and +after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed him the +manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very window in which +Susanna had sat two days before, and without a word to me, he fell to +reading it. I at once retired to the opposite corner of the room, and +for appearance' sake took up a book; but I must own I was stealthily +looking over the edge of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he +read rather calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on +his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not stir again. +His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his mouth slightly opened. At +last he finished the manuscript, turned it over, looked round, thought a +little, and began reading it all through a second time from beginning to +end. Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved towards +the door; but he turned round and stopped in the middle of the room. + +'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to speak. + +'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. 'I have +behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed that... Viktor--' + +'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what could he say +to you?' + +Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was ashamed, I saw +that. + +'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor alluded +to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my head. It's the cause +of everything. I began questioning him.... Well, and he--' + +'What did he say?' + +'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... Koltovsky, had +allowed Susanna that pension because... on account of... well, in fact, +by way of damages.' + +I flung up my hands. + +'And you believed him?' + +Fustov nodded. + +'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young one... In +fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + +'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + +'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, savagely,' +he repeated. + +We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was ashamed; but it +was easier for me; I was not ashamed of myself. + + +XX + + +'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued Fustov, +clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm in fault. I see now +what the whole trick was contrived for, with Susanna's marriage they +would lose the pension.... Wretches!' + +I took his hand. + +'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + +'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... early +to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + +'But you... love her, Alexander?' + +Fustov seemed offended. + +'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + +'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + +Fustov stamped impatiently. + +'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared to marry +her--she's been baptized--I'm ready to marry her even now, I'd been +thinking of it, though she's older than I am.' + +At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure was seated +in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had burnt down; it was +dark in the room. I shivered, looked more intently, and saw nothing, of +course, in the window seat; but a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, +anguish and pity, came over me. + +'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I implore you, +go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off till to-morrow! An inner +voice tells me that you really ought to see Susanna to-day!' + +Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + +'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, most +likely they're all in bed.' + +'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a presentiment.... +Please do as I say! Go at once, take a sledge....' + +'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I go now? +To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything will be cleared up.' + +'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that you would +not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only think, imagine, to +make up her mind to come to me... what it must have cost her....' + +'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had apparently +regained his self-possession completely. 'All girls are like that... at +first. I repeat, everything will be all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, +good-bye. I'm tired, and you're sleepy too.' + +He took his cap, and went out of the room. + +'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about it?' I +called after him. + +'I promise.... Good-bye!' + +I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed with my +friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was wandering with Susanna +along underground, damp passages of some sort, and crawling along +narrow, steep staircases, and continually going deeper and deeper down, +though we were trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was +all the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive tones. + + +XXI + + +Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several times.... I +opened my eyes and in the faint light of the solitary candle, I saw +Fustov standing before me. He frightened me. He was staggering; his face +was yellow, almost the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging +down, his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become of +his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a cousin who from +epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov looked like him at that +moment. + +I sat up hurriedly. + +'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + +He made no answer. + +'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + +Fustov gave a slight start. + +'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + +'What of her? Have you seen her?' + +He stared at me. + +'She's no more.' + +'No more?' + +'No. She is dead.' + +I jumped out of bed. + +'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + +Fustov turned his eyes away again. + +'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + +'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + +'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + +'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + +They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + +I seized him by the hand. + +'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + +'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I came straight +to you.' + +My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising an +irrevocable misfortune. + +'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So suddenly! Or +perhaps she took her own life?' + +'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me she died at +midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + +'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive yesterday when I +fancied I saw her in the window, when I entreated him to hasten to +her....' + +'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to Ivan +Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my thought. + +'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we both knew her! +"High-flown," said he, "all girls are like that."... And at that very +minute, perhaps, she was putting to her lips... Can one love any one and +be so grossly mistaken in them?' + +Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, like a guilty +man. + + +XXII + + +I dressed hurriedly. + +'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + +He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the absurdity of +my question. And indeed what was there to do? + +'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound to +ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime concealed. One +may expect anything of those people.... It is all to be thoroughly +investigated. Remember the statement in her manuscript, the pension was +to cease on her marriage, but in event of her death it was to pass to +Ratsch. In any case, one must render her the last duty, pay homage to +her remains!' + +I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. In the midst +of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort of unconscious feeling +of superiority over Fustov had suddenly come to the surface in me.... +Whether from seeing him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, +distracted, shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost +always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, 'you can't +be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come off better than that!' +God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to me almost like a child, and I felt +pity for him, and saw the necessity of severity. I held out a helping +hand to him, stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is +free from condescension. + +But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at me--my +authoritative tone obviously had no effect on him, and to my second +question, 'You're going to them, I suppose?' he replied-- + +'No, I'm not going.' + +'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for yourself, to +investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has left a letter... a document +of some sort....' + +Fustov shook his head. + +'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, to ask you +to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + +Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both hands, and +sobbed bitterly. + +'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, poor girl... +poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + +I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the slightest sympathy +was excited in me by those incontestably sincere sobs. I simply +marvelled that Fustov could cry _like that_, and it seemed to me +that _now_ I knew what a small person he was, and that I should, in +his place, have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If +Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have hated him, have +conceived an aversion for him, but he would not have sunk in my +esteem.... He would have kept his prestige. Don Juan would have remained +Don Juan! Very late in life, and only after many experiences, does a man +learn, at the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to +sympathise with him, and help him without a secret self-congratulation +at his own virtue and strength, but on the contrary, with every humility +and comprehension of the naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + + +XXIII + + +I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the Ratsches'; but +when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock (nothing would induce +Fustov to go with me, he only begged me to give him an exact account of +everything), when round the corner of the street their house glared at +me in the distance with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one +of the windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I +would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, and went +into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the pink cover of the +coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a corner, leaning against the +wall. In one of the adjoining rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous +muttering of the deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the +drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, who murmured +in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the dead?' She indicated the +door of the dining-room. I went in. The coffin stood with the head +towards the door; the black hair of Susanna under the white wreath, +above the raised lace of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up +sidewards, crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful +God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no pity on her, +had denied her--beauty, that would be little--even that peace, that +tender and impressive peace which is often seen on the faces of the +newly dead. The little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the +visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that face! It +looked as though she were on the point of shrieking--a shriek of +despair--and had died so, uttering no sound... even the line between the +brows was not smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back +and clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a brief +interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and attentively at her. +Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. 'That girl died by violence,' I +decided inwardly; 'that's beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at +the dead girl, the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and +uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning again, and +yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, and went out into the +passage. + +In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on the +look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. Beckoning to +me with his hand, he led me to his own room--I had almost said, to his +lair. The room, dark and close, soaked through and through with the sour +smell of stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf +or a fox. + + +XXIV + + +'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external covering.... You +understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' said Mr. Ratsch, directly the +door closed. 'Such a misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was +nothing to notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! +It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; it's what was +to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov the regimental doctor, +Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... you've probably heard of him... a +first-rate medical man, a specialist--' + +'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + +'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, at first +in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to my surprise, with a +perceptible German accent, 'he was always warning me: "Ay, Ivan +Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must be careful! Your stepdaughter has +an organic defect in the heart--hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing +and there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions above +all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my word, with a +young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... ha... ha...' + +Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, but he +recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient guffaw into a +cough. + +And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found out about +him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him whether a doctor was +called in. + +Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + +'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was already +over--abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though they were agreeing' +(Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though they had agreed), 'rupture! +rupture of the heart! That's what, with one voice, they cried out. They +proposed a post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to +that.' + +'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + +'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The procession +will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.... From +here to the church of St. Nicholas on Hen's Legs... what strange names +your Russian churches do have, you know! Then to the last resting-place +in mother earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I +make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the elevation of +your sentiments!...' + +I made haste to nod my head. + +'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has been, as they +say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz aus heiterem Himmel!' + +'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left nothing?' + +'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of paper! Only +fancy, when they called me to her, when they waked me up--she was stiff +already! Very distressing it was for me; she has grieved us all +terribly! Alexander Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he +knows.... They say he is not in Moscow.' + +'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + +'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his sledge +harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming in--the same girl I had +seen in the passage. Her face, still looking half-awake, struck me this +time by the expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when +they know that their masters are in their power, and that they do not +dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. 'Eleonora +Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + +There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other side of the +door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's imperious call: 'Why on +earth don't they put the horses in? You don't catch me trudging off to +the police on foot!' + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. 'Eleonora +Karpovna, come here!' + +'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine Toilette +gemacht!' + +'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + +Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck with two +fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned up, and had not yet +done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to her. + +'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, hurriedly pointing +his finger first to the door, then to the window. 'Please, do see to it, +as quick as possible! Der Kerl schreit so!' + +'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' responded +Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the coachman myself, but he's +taken it into his head to give the horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity +to happen so suddenly,' she added, turning to me; 'who could have +expected such a thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + +'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw up his +arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did so, and displaying +most repulsive unmentionables of chamois leather, with buckles on the +belt. 'Rupture of the heart! rupture of the external membrane! +Hypertrophy!' + +'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... Well, so +it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I say again...' And +her coarse-featured face worked a little, her eyebrows rose into the +shape of triangles, and a tiny tear rolled over her round cheek, that +looked varnished like a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young +person who ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... +And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + +'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + +'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she went away, +still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and shedding tears. + +And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a student's coat with +a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily on one side. He barely glanced +at me over his shoulder, shook his collar up, and did not nod to me, for +which I mentally thanked him. + +I went back to Fustov. + + +XXV + + +I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with downcast head and +arms folded across his breast. He had sunk into a state of numbness, and +he gazed around him with the slow, bewildered look of a man who has +slept very heavily and has only just been waked. I told him all about my +visit to Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his wife, +described the impression they had made on me and informed him of my +conviction that the unhappy girl had taken her own life.... Fustov +listened to me with no change of expression, and looked about him with +the same bewildered air. + +'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + +'Yes.' + +'In the coffin?' + +Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + +'In the coffin.' + +Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly rubbed his +hands. + +'Are you cold?' I asked him. + +'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he shook his +head stupidly. + +I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had poisoned +herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the matter could not be +left so.... + +Fustov stared at me. + +'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his eyes wide +and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if it's known about. +They won't bury her. We must let things... alone.' + +This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My friend's +practical sense had not deserted him. + +'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + +'To-morrow.' + +'Are you going?' + +'Yes.' + +'To the house or straight to the church?' + +'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the cemetery.' + +'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and began +crying. It was at these same words that he had broken into sobs in the +morning. I have noticed that it is often so with weeping; as though to +certain words, for the most of no great meaning,--but just to these +words and to no others--it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, +to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity for others +and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once describing before me +the sudden death of her daughter, and she fairly dissolved and could not +go on with her tale as soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, +Fekla. And she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... +sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + +But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by Fustov's tears. +I could not conceive how it was he did not ask me if Susanna had not +left something for him. Altogether their love for one another was a +riddle to me; and a riddle it remained to me. + +After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the sofa, +turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I waited a little, +but seeing that he did not stir, and made no answer to my questions, I +made up my mind to leave him. I am perhaps doing him injustice, but I +almost believe he was asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that +he did not feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be +unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was too +awfully well-balanced! + + +XXVI + + +The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. Fine hail was +falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a slight frost, a thaw was +close at hand, but there were cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind +flitting across in the air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, +cold-catching weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In +a black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, he +fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, shouted up to +the house, and then down into the street, in the direction of the +funeral car with a white catafalque, already standing there with two +hired carriages. Near it four garrison soldiers, with mourning capes +over their old coats, and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up +eyes, were pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long +stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair positively +stood up straight above the red face of Mr. Ratsch, and his voice, that +brazen voice, was cracking from the strain he was putting on it. 'Where +are the pine branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' +he yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The pine! Hand +over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried once more, and dashed +into the house. It appeared that in spite of my punctuality, I was late: +Mr. Ratsch had thought fit to hurry things forward. The service in the +house was already over; the priests--of whom one wore a calotte, and the +other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and oiled his +hair--appeared with all their retinue on the steps. The coffin too +appeared soon after, carried by a coachman, two door-keepers, and a +water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on +the coffin lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled +Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, surrounded +by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor stepped out in a new +uniform with a sword with crape round the handle. The coffin-bearers, +grumbling and altercating among themselves, laid the coffin on the +hearse; the garrison soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began +crackling and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to +the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the fine snow +suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white flies.' Mr. Ratsch +bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the procession started. Besides Mr. +Ratsch's family, there were in all five men accompanying the hearse: a +retired and extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded +Stanislas ribbon--not improbably hired--on his neck; the police +superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man with a meek face and greedy +eyes; a little old man in a fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger +in a tradesman's bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. +The absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such two +aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, and a hunchback +old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her blue nose), the absence of +girl friends and acquaintances struck me at first; but on thinking it +over I realised that Susanna, with her character, her education, her +memories, could not have made friends in the circle in which she was +living. In the church there were a good many people assembled, more +outsiders than acquaintances, as one could see by the expression of +their faces. The service did not last long. What surprised me was that +Mr. Ratsch crossed himself with great fervour, quite as though he were +of the orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the +responses, though only with the notes not with the words. When at last +it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed low, but did not give the +last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the contrary, went through this terrible +ordeal with the utmost composure, and with a deferential inclination of +his person invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as +though offering him entertainment, and picking his children up under the +arms swung them up in turn and held them up to the body. Eleonora +Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, suddenly broke into a roar that +filled the church; but she was soon soothed and continually asked in an +exasperated whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself +aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to convey that he +was out of sympathy with all such customs and was only performing a +social duty. The person who showed the most sympathy was the little old +man in the smock, who had been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in +the Tambov province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know +Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits at the +sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to the church. She had +somehow or other found out that the deceased woman was the very lady who +had paid me a visit, and had been thrown into a state of indescribable +agitation! She could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of +misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange chain of +circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that Susanna had been led +by love for me to commit suicide, and attired in her darkest garments, +with an aching heart and tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of +the soul of the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of +the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her too, and she +too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at me, horror-stricken.... +That elderly spinster, alas! did not regard me with indifference. On +leaving the church, my aunt distributed all her money, more than ten +roubles, among the poor. + +At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. During the +whole service I had not courage to look straight at the poor girl's +distorted face; but every time that my eyes passed by it--'he did not +come, he did not come,' it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were +just going to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain +myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why did you do +it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not come!' I fancied for the +last time.... The hammer was knocking in the nails, and all was over. + + +XXVII + + +We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in number, of +all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than an idle crowd. The +wearisome journey lasted more than an hour. The weather became worse and +worse. Halfway there Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped +gallantly on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped +through the snow when, after the fateful interview with Semyon +Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl whose life he had +ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and eyebrows were edged with snow; +he kept blowing and uttering exclamations, or manfully drawing deep +breaths and puffing out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might +have thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass to +Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript recurred again +to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; we moved up to a freshly +dug grave. The last ceremony was quickly performed; all were chilled +through, all were in haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning +hole; they began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the +energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, did he +fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing himself into an +heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly before him... he could not have +shown more energy if he had been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as +before, held himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and +rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other children +eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and earth was a source of +great enjoyment to them, for which, of course, they were in no way to +blame. A mound began to rise up where the hole had been; we were on the +point of separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in +soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, announced to all +of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited us, and also the 'reverend +clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' which had been arranged at no great +distance from the cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior +restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured friend Sigismund +Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he indicated the assistant of the +police superintendent, and added that for all his grief and his Lutheran +faith, he, Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old +Russian usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the +ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we gentlemen +commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy departed servant!' Mr. +Ratsch's proposal was received with genuine sympathy; 'the reverend +clergy' exchanged expressive glances with one another, while the officer +of roads and highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and +called him a patriot and the soul of the company. + +We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, in the +middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the first storey, stood +two tables laid for dinner, covered with bottles and eatables, and +surrounded by chairs. The smell of whitewash, mingled with the odours of +spirits and salad oil, was stifling and oppressive. The police +superintendent's assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the +clergy in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were crowded +together conspicuously; after the priests the other guests took their +seats; the banquet began. I would not have used such a festive word as +banquet by choice, but no other word would have corresponded with the +real character of the thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, +even slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were emptied, +but sighs too were audible--possibly sighs of digestion, but possibly +also of feeling. There were references to death, allusions to the +brevity of human life, and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The +officer of roads and highways related a military but still edifying +anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, and himself +contributed an interesting fact from the life of the saint, Ivan the +Warrior. The priest with the superbly arranged hair, though his +attention was chiefly engrossed by the edibles, gave utterance to +something improving on the subject of chastity. But little by little all +this changed. Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter +reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected exclamations, +caressing appellations, after the manner of 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart +alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a pig like that'--everything, in fact, of +which the Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes +unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made champagne were +popping, the party had become noisy; some one even crowed like a cock, +while another guest was offering to bite up and swallow the glass out of +which he had just been drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, +suddenly rose from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great +noise before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out with +it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even bawled 'bravo!' and +clapped his hands... but he was already sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +lifted his glass high above his head, and announced that he proposed in +brief but 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the +noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk (die +irdische Hülle) has soared to heaven, and plunged...' Mr. Ratsch +corrected himself: 'and plashed....' He again corrected himself: 'and +plunged...' + +'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a subdued but +insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish good voice; honour us +with a song, strike up: "We live among the fields!"' + +'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the guests. + +...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, turning a +severe glance in the direction of the lover of music, 'plunged all her +family into the most irreplaceable grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, +'well may the Russian proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + +'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the table, 'my +purse has just been stolen!...' + +'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box on the +ear. + +Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, till then +only growling and faintly stirring within us, had suddenly broken from +its chains and reared up, ruffled and fierce in all its hideousness. It +seemed as though every one had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as +the natural outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed +to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered and rolled +about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, hands were waving in +the air, coat-tails were flying, and a fight began in earnest. + +'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the +fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most peaceable +person in the world; it is true he had been silently drinking some dozen +glasses of spirits. 'Thrash him!...' + +Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, he had no +idea, but he bellowed furiously. + +The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads and +highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected such a speedy +termination to his eloquence, tried to restore order... but their +efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the fishmonger, even fell foul of +Mr. Ratsch himself. + +'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he yelled at him, +shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the police, and here he's crowing +over it!!' + +At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I don't know; +I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off as fast as my legs would +carry me! All I remember is a fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains +of a herring in the hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat +flying right across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a +corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... Such were +the last impressions I carried away of the 'memorial banquet,' arranged +by the excellent Sigismund Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + +After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him all of +which I had been a witness during that day. He listened to me, sitting +still, and not raising his head, and putting both hands under his legs, +he murmured again, 'Ah! my poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down +on the sofa and turned his back on me. + +A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up his life +as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a keepsake: he gave +it me without raising any objection. + + +XXVIII + + +Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow and settled +in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to Petersburg. He had entered the +department of the Ministry of Finance, but we rarely met and I saw +nothing much in him then. An official like every one else, and nothing +more! If he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, +unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses dumb-bells, and +is as much a lady-killer as ever, and sketches Napoleon in a blue +uniform in the albums of his lady friends. It happened that I had to go +to Moscow on business. In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, +that the fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an +adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, two boys, +whom as a true Russian he had christened Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but +his house had been burnt down, he had been forced to retire from his +position, and worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become +practically a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in +Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to hear an +allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most insulting allusion! +I did all I could to defend the memory of the unhappy girl, to whom fate +had denied even the charity of oblivion, but my arguments did not make +much impression on my audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, +however, a little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I +have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' + + +I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. Susanna's image +rose before me; once more I seemed to see the frozen window in my room; +I recalled that evening and the blustering snowstorm, and those words, +those sobs.... I began to ponder how it was possible to explain +Susanna's love for Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively +given way to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it +she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter truth from +the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, even? How could she +fling herself at once headlong into the abyss? Because she was +passionately in love with Fustov, I shall be told; because she could not +bear the slightest doubt of his devotion, of his respect for her. +Perhaps; or perhaps because she was not at all so passionately in love +with Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but simply +rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over the thought that +even this man had at once, at the first breath of slander, turned away +from her with contempt! Who can say what killed her; wounded pride, or +the wretchedness of her helpless position, or the very memory of that +first, noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully pledged +herself in the morning of her early days, who had so deeply trusted her, +and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps at the very instant when I +fancied that her dead lips were murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul +was rejoicing that she had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The +secrets of human life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable +of those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of Susanna +rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity for her, and of +angry reproach against fate, and my lips whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy +girl! unhappy girl!' + +1868. + + + + + + +THE DUELLIST + + +I + + +A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the village of +Kirilovo, in the K--- province. That village, with its huts and +hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and gaunt willows, looked from a +distance like an island in a boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth +fields. In the middle of the village was a small pond, invariably +covered with goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces +from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden +manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one side. Behind +the house stretched the deserted garden; in the garden grew old +apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall birch-trees, full of rooks' +nests. At the end of the principal garden-walk, in a little house, once +the bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, gasping and +groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag himself across the garden +to the seignorial apartments, though there was nothing to take care of +in them except a dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two +podgy chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with +holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken nose. The +owner of the house, a careless young man, lived partly at Petersburg, +partly abroad, and had completely forgotten his estate. It had come to +him eight years before, from a very old uncle, once noted all over the +countryside for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles +are to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with rubbish of +all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured covers, scantily +filled with writing, old-fashioned glass lustres, a nobleman's uniform +of the Catherine period, a rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. +In one of the lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his +abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim and +sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, an emotional +person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, fond of flowers and female +society. The social life of the officers of this regiment did not differ +from any other kind of society. Among their number were good people and +bad, clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch +Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. Lutchkov was a +short and not thick-set man; he had a small, yellowish, dry face, lank, +black hair, unnoticeable features, and dark, little eyes. He had early +been left an orphan, and had grown up among privations and hardships. +For weeks together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at once--as +though he were possessed by some devil--he would let no one alone, +annoying everybody, staring every one insolently in the face; trying, in +fact, to pick a quarrel. Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof +from intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate terms +with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play cards, and did +not drink spirits. + +In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the manoeuvres, +there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor Fedorovitch Kister, a +Russian nobleman of German extraction, very fair-haired and very modest, +cultivated and well read. He had lived up to his twentieth year in the +home of his fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and +his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely to the +wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age could not see a white +plumed helmet without emotion.... He served with no special enthusiasm +but with energy, as it were conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a +dandy, but was always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of +his arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior officers, +and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had brought with him some +cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so forth. He papered all the walls +and the doors, put up some screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a +stable, and a kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole +week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards to go into +his room. Before the window stood a neat table, covered with various +little things; in one corner was a set of shelves for books, with busts +of Schiller and Goethe; on the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and +guns; near the table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; +there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and locked; the +windows were hung with curtains. Everything in Fyodor Fedoritch's room +had a look of cleanliness and order. + +It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. Often one +could scarcely make one's way across the muddy yard; in the outer room, +behind a canvas screen, with its covering peeling off it, would lie +stretched the snoring orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, +boots and a broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped +card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, half-full of cold, +dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, rickety, greasy sofa; on the +window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would +find the master of the place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson +plush facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, and +a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass collar would be +snoring at his side.... All the doors always ajar.... + +Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new comrades. They +liked him for his good-nature, modesty, warm-heartedness, and natural +inclination for everything beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in +another officer they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They +called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their manners +with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed him dubiously. One +day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, slightly pursing up his lips +and inflating his nostrils: + +'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + +Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + +'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + +'My name's Kister, sir.' + +'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. Lutchkov +looked after him with a grin. + +Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + +'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + +Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey +Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant glee. + +'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + +'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and +ill-bred--do you hear?--stupid and ill-bred.' + +'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + +'When you like,... to-morrow.' + +Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and +to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, +took him by the hand and begged his pardon. Kister had to keep indoors +for a fortnight. Avdey Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him +and on Fyodor Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was +pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling akin to +remorse was roused in his soul--it's hard to say... but from the time of +his duel with Kister, Avdey Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and +called him first Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he +became quite another man and--strange to say!--the change was not in his +favour. It did not suit him to be gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not +call forth in any one anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that +class of persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of +authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts essential for +the justification of such a privilege. Having received no education, not +being distinguished by intelligence, he ought not to have revealed +himself; possibly his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of +the defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself +altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at first +forced himself to despise people, then he began to notice that it was +not a difficult matter to intimidate them, and he began to despise them +in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed cutting short by his very approach all but +the most vulgar conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, +and I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall know +nothing and not show off your talents before me....' Kister, perhaps, +had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had taken up--just because before +his acquaintance with him, the bully had never met any one genuinely +idealistic, that is to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in +dreams, and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + +Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe and +quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in Kister's company +abashed by his own ignorance; he relied--and with good reason--on his +German modesty. + +'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been reading, I'll +bet, eh?' + +'Yes, I read....' + +'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell away.' +Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the end. + +'I read Kleist's _Idyll_. Ah, what a fine thing it is! If you don't +mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And Kister translated with +fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up his forehead and compressing his +lips, listened attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, +with a disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, I've +read it... very fine.' + +'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were reluctantly, +'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + +And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the Fourteenth, while +Lutchkov listened, totally failing to understand a great deal, +misunderstanding a part... and at last venturing to make a remark.... +This threw him into a cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' +he thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. But +Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the good-hearted youth was +inwardly rejoicing that, as he thought, the desire for enlightenment was +awakened in a fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for +enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God knows why he +did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself what sort of head he, +Lutchkov, had, whether it was really dull, or simply untrained. 'So I +really am stupid,' he said to himself more than once with a bitter +smile; and he would draw himself up instantly and look rudely and +insolently about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some +comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my man, you're +so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter between his teeth. +'I'll show you... that's all....' + +The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of Kister and +Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer ways. 'The devil's made +friends with the baby,' they said.... Kister was warm in his praises of +his friend on all hands; no one disputed his opinion, because they were +afraid of Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name +before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the perfumed +adjutant. + + +II + + +The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving balls, +inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off their daughters. + +About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just such a country +gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four hundred souls, and a +fairly spacious house. He had a daughter of eighteen, Mashenka, and a +wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. Perekatov had once been an officer in the +cavalry, but from love of a country life and from indolence he had +retired and had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of +the middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence in a not +perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished gentleman of Moscow. + +Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, as it is +called, in his own house, but got her off his hands rather hurriedly, at +the first offer, as a not very marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was +ugly; the distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten +thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To Mr. +Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a highly educated, +intellectual young lady... who was, after all, so closely related to so +illustrious a personage. This illustrious personage extended his +patronage to the young people even after the marriage, that is to say, +he accepted presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my +dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna took complete +possession of her husband, managed everything, and looked after the +whole property--very sensibly, indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. +Perekatov could have done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too +much; but she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and +dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper for a country +gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov grew a little Napoleonic +beard on his chin, to cover a large wart, which looked like an over-ripe +raspberry. Nenila Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that +her husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always let the +beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their instrument more +comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in the early morning, wore a +high, clean stock, and was well combed and washed. He was, moreover, +well content with his lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and +slept all he could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household +'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few servants, +and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by ambition; she wanted at +least to be the wife of the marshal of the nobility of the district; but +the gentry of the district, though they dined at her house to their +hearts' content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired +premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major Burundukov. +Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a product of the capital. + +Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her father. Nenila +Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with her education. She spoke +French well, and played the piano fairly. She was of medium height, +rather plump and white; her rather full face was lighted up by a kindly +and merry smile; her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her +pleasant voice--everything about her was gently pleasing, and that was +all. On the other hand the absence of all affectation and +conventionality, an amount of culture exceptional in a country girl, the +freedom of her expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks +could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her own free +will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in restraint. + +One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the Perekatovs were in +the drawing-room. The husband in a round green coat, a high check +cravat, and pea-green trousers with straps, was standing at the window, +very busily engaged in catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her +embroidery frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and +gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa, +gazing in silence at the floor. + +'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, Sergei +Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + +'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chère.' (He was under the +strictest orders not to call her 'little mother.') 'To be sure!' + +'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila Makarievna. 'Nobody +for the girls to dance with.' + +Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of partners. + +'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov asked?' + +'What Lutchkov?' + +'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting person.' + +'How's that?' + +'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every one's afraid of +him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma frowned a little.) 'I should so +like to see him.' + +Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + +'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he must look +like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just beginning to talk +about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I declare, my dear, there was a time +when I had a terrible character as a fighting man.' + +Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped up and +kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, too... but Sergei +Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + +'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila Makarievna. +'Possibly he may come too.' + +The daughter sighed. + +'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked Sergei +Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that nowadays--so--what shall +I say?--romantic...' + +'No,' Masha responded simply. + +Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei Sergeitch played +with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, then took his wide-brimmed, +English hat from the table, and set off to see after things on the +estate. + +His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent animal, she +was well aware that her master was not a person of very great authority in +the house, and behaved herself accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + +Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her head, and +looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell me when you fall in +love?' she asked. + +Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head several +times in the affirmative. + +'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her cheek, and she +went out after her husband. Masha leaned back in her chair, dropped her +head on her bosom, interlaced her fingers, and looked long out of +window, screwing up her eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh +cheeks; with a sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but +dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting the tips of +her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at her own shoulder, at her +outstretched hand, got up, went to the window, laughed, put on her hat +and went out into the garden. + +That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. Madame +Perekatov with great affability received and 'entertained' the ladies, +Mashenka the girls; Sergei Sergeitch talked about the crops with the +gentlemen and continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived +the young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at last +the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, Kister and Lutchkov. +He presented them to the lady of the house. Lutchkov bowed without +speaking, Kister muttered the customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. +Perekatov went up to the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him +in the face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked +forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a dance. At +that time the _Ecossaise_ was still flourishing. + +'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after galloping twenty +times to the end of the room, they stood at last, the first couple, 'why +isn't your friend dancing?' + +'Which friend?' + +Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + +'He never dances,' answered Kister. + +'Why did he come then?' + +Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the pleasure...' + +Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred into our +regiment, I think?' + +'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not long.' + +'Aren't you dull here?' + +'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the scenery!'... +Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. Masha listened to him, +without raising her head. Avdey Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, +looking indifferently at the dancers. + +'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + +'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + +'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added hurriedly. + +'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + +'They say every one's afraid of him.' + +Kister laughed. + +'And you?' + +'I'm a friend of his.' + +'Really?' + +'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. They +started and began galloping again right across the room. + +'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up to him +after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does nothing but ask +questions about you.' + +'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + +'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; only look at +her.' + +'Which of them is she?' + +Kister pointed out Masha. + +'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + +'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask another girl +to dance. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister had +mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned loudly. To arouse +curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: love he despised--in +words--but inwardly he was himself aware that it would be a hard and +difficult task for him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him +to win love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of indifference, +of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was unattractive and no longer +young; but on the other hand he enjoyed a terrible reputation--and +consequently he had every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, +unspoken enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he had +attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to get upon more +friendly terms with him, but he repelled their advances with exasperated +obstinacy; he knew that sentiment was not in his line (during tender +interviews, avowals, he first became awkward and vulgar, and, through +anger, rude to the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that +the two or three women with whom he had at different times been on a +friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the first moment of +closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse made haste to get away +from him... and so he had at last schooled himself to remain an enigma, +and to scorn what destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only +sort of scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, spontaneous, +that is to say good, demonstration of passion suited Lutchkov; he was +bound to keep a continual check on himself, even when he was angry. +Kister was the only person who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke +into laughter; the kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous +delight of sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from +Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering looks, like +a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, Lutchkov never left his +corner, scowled, glanced stealthily at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at +once threw an expression of indifference into his own. Masha danced +three times with Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with +confidence. She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not +at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + +A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up and down, +tapping with their heels, and tossing the epaulettes on their shoulders; +the civilians tapped with their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir +from his place, and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they +whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; his +neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before him with +downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov for the first +moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he carelessly took off his +sword, threw his hat on the floor, picked his way awkwardly among the +arm-chairs, took Masha by the hand, and went round the circle, with no +capering up and down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an +unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + +'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + +'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + +'Where's your place?' + +'Over there.' + +Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her and coolly +returned to his corner... but there was an agreeable stirring of the +spleen within him. + +Kister asked Masha for a dance. + +'What a strange person your friend is!' + +'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly twinkle of +his blue and kindly eyes. + +'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + +'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch laughed. + +'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook her head with +an important air. + +'Me not know? How's that?'... + +Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, +and walked away into the other room. + + +III + + +Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had not once been +at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them pretty often. Nenila +Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but it was not she that attracted +Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had +not yet talked himself out, he derived great pleasure from the +interchange of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in +the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a young man and +a young girl. + +One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him rapidly along +to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, close and sultry. Not a +cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky was so thick and dark on the horizon +that the eye mistook it for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had +erected for a summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the +steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. Nenila +Makarievna had every shutter closed from early morning. Kister walked +into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. The light lay in long lines on +the floor and in short, close streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila +Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. Perekatov settled +himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; Masha sat near the window at +her embroidery frame, Kister facing her. Masha, without opening her +frame, leaned lightly over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began +telling her something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for +something, looked from time to time towards her father, and all at once +stretched out her hand. + +'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more softly... papa's +asleep.' + +Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, with his +head hanging and his mouth a little open. + +'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + +'You will laugh at me.' + +'Oh, no, really!...' + +Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face remained +uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not without hesitation, +asked Kister why it was he never brought Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was +not the first time Masha had mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did +not speak. Masha glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + +'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + +'Oh, why not? of course.' + +'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on you.' + +'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to examine +the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of light lay on her +hair; 'no... but...' + +'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + +'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted her head, so +that the streak of light fell straight in her eyes; 'don't you see... +he...' + +'He interests you....' + +'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, turned her +head a little away and in that position went on talking. 'There is +something about him so... There, you're laughing at me,' she added +suddenly, glancing swiftly at Fyodor Fedoritch. + +Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + +'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha went on: 'I +know that you are a very'... (she nearly said great) 'good friend of +mine.' + +Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her hand to him; +Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers respectfully. + +'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again she propped +her elbows on the frame. + +'Queer?' + +'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha added +slily. + +'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined solemnly. 'They +don't know him in our regiment, they don't appreciate him, they only see +his external side. He's embittered, of course, and strange and +impatient, but his heart is good.' + +Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + +'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need to be afraid +of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... I'll tell him... Oh! +yes, I know what to say... Only you mustn't suppose, though, that I +would...' (Kister was embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... +'Besides, after all, of course you only... like him....' + +'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + +Kister looked mischievously at her. + +'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll bring him to +you....' + +'Oh, no....' + +'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange +everything.' + +'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her finger at +him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + +'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with surprise. This +doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. Masha and Kister began +discussing Schiller. + +Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt something like a +stir of envy within him... and was generously indignant with himself. +Nenila Makarievna came down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. +Mr. Perekatov made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then +explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog wagged its +tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. When at last the great +heat began to lessen, and an evening breeze blew up, the whole family +went out for a walk in the birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually +glancing at Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would +carry out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and happy +and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, plunged into a +rather high-flown discourse upon love in the abstract, and upon +friendship... but catching Nenila Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye +he, as abruptly, changed the subject. The sunset was brilliant and +glowing. A broad, level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. +Masha took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' +Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with his wife, +Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential little shrieks; Mr. +Perekatov's valet had the temerity to separate Nenila Makarievna from +her spouse; one of the servant-girls respectfully paired off with her +master; Fyodor Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he +regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, all +flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, passing her hand +over her hair. After supper, Kister took leave. + +It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He was +excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said at last, almost +aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them together; I will justify her +confidence in me.' Though there was as yet nothing to prove a definite +passion for Lutchkov on Masha's part, though, according to her own +account, he only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up +a complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. He +resolved to sacrifice his feelings--the more readily as 'so far I have +no other sentiment for her but sincere devotion,' thought he. Kister +really was capable of sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised +duty. He had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of +experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the truth of his +suppositions; he did not suspect that life is endlessly varied, and +never repeats itself. Little by little, Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself +into a state of ecstasy. He began musing with emotion on his mission. To +be the mediator between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered +only because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; to +bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, and then to +withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of his sacrifice, what a +splendid feat! In spite of the coolness of the night, the simple-hearted +dreamer's face burned.... + +Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a pipe. +Kister greeted him. + +'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some solemnity. + +'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + +'Yes. They are splendid people.' + +'Really?' + +'We talked about you.' + +'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + +'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + +'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + +'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + +'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + +'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a clever, sweet +and sensitive girl.' + +Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' + + +'But I assure you....' + +'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked sarcastically. + +'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + +'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + +'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + +'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my hearth,' +Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + +'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with vexation. + +With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more than +before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen Sie deutsch, Ivan +Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, 'don't be angry.' + +'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside him. 'You +know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) 'But there's one +thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... it's just that you won't make +friends with any one, that you will stick at home, and refuse all +intercourse with nice people. Why, there are nice people in the world, +hang it all! Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been +embittered, what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of +course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast me off +some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + +Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + +'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness knows what +some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister after a brief silence; +'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + +'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + +Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + +'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to reconcile you with +life. You will grow happier, blossom out... yes, blossom out. How I +shall rejoice then! Only you must let me dispose of you now and then, of +your time. To-day it's--what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on +Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the Perekatovs'. They +will be so glad to see you... and we shall have such a jolly time +there... and now let me have a pipe.' + +Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at the +ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and began drumming +on the panes with his fingers. + +'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + +'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + +'What did they say?' + +'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your acquaintance.' + +'Which of them's that?' + +'I say, what curiosity!' + +Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be saddled. + +'Where are you off to?' + +'The riding-school.' + +'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + +'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + +'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the street, +pondered, and sighed deeply. + + +IV + + +Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the arrival of +Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly returned to her own +room, and went up to the looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing +violently. A girl came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a +little water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. Mr. +Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa; +Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing his uniform, with his hat +on his knees; Kister was near him. They both got up on Masha's +entrance--Kister with his usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn +and constrained air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her +mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha recovered +herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To the questions +addressed to him by the lady of the house, he answered briefly, but +uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic people. Nenila Makarievna +suggested a stroll in the garden to her guests, but did not herself go +beyond the balcony. She did not consider it essential never to lose +sight of her daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a +fat reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in the +steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha talked more with +Kister, but did not dare to look either at him or at Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch did not address a remark to her; Kister's voice showed +agitation. He laughed and chattered a little over-much.... They reached +the stream. A couple of yards or so from the bank there was a +water-lily, which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, +encircled by its broad, round leaves. + +'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + +She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out his sword, +clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a willow, and, bending his +whole body over the water, cut off the head of the flower. 'It's deep +here, take care!' Masha cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his +sword brought the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, +picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted amazement at +Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't swim...' Lutchkov observed +abruptly. Masha did not like that remark. 'What made him say that?' she +wondered. + +Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the evening. +Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's soul; a dreamy +perplexity was reflected more than once in her face. She moved somehow +more slowly, she did not flush on meeting her mother's eyes--on the +contrary, she seemed to seek them, as though she would question her. +During the whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; +but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When they had +both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a few days, she +quietly went off to her own room, and for a long while, as it were, in +bewilderment she looked about her. Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed +and embraced her as usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say +something--and did not utter a word. She wanted to confess---she did not +know what. Her soul was gently wandering in dreams. On the little table +by her bedside the flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean +glass. Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her elbow, +and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white petals.... + +'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like the +Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + +Lutchkov did not answer. + +'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + +'Really, I don't know.' + +'Nonsense, come now!' + +'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not bad-looking.' + +'There, you see...' said Kister--and he said no more. + +Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that they should +call on the Perekatovs. + +Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor Fedoritch's absence +he would have had to keep up a conversation, and that he could not do, +and as far as possible avoided. + +On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more at her ease. +She was by now secretly glad that she had not disturbed her mamma by an +uninvited avowal. Before dinner, Avdey had offered to try a young horse, +not yet broken in, and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it +completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking and +laughing--and though he soon pulled himself up, yet he had succeeded in +making a momentary unpleasant impression on Masha. She could not yet be +sure herself what the feeling exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, +but everything she did not like in him she set down to the influence of +misfortune, of loneliness. + + +V + + +The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. Kister's +position became more and more painful. He did not regret his action... +no, but he desired at least to cut short the time of his trial. His +devotion to Masha increased daily; she too felt warmly towards him; but +to be nothing more than a go-between, a confidant, a friend even--it's a +dreary, thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great deal +about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of suffering... but to +Kister's warm and simple heart his sufferings were not a source of any +bliss whatever. At last, one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to +fetch him, and the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, +to the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he should +stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and angry... Kister +pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + +The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his comrades in +peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his spirit had not +'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet he certainly had toned down +a little. He could not have been called 'disillusioned' before--he had +seen and experienced almost nothing--and so it is not surprising that +Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched though; only his +spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for him were of a strange kind. +She almost never looked him straight in the face; she could not talk to +him.... When they happened to be left alone together, Masha felt +horribly awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt overawed +by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did not understand him, +and was unworthy of his confidence; miserably, drearily--but +continually--she thought of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, +soothed her and put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed +nor excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours together, +leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, looking +affectionately into his face, and laughing with his laughter--and she +rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov there was something enigmatic for the +young girl; she felt that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained +every effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So children +stare a long while into a deep well, till at last they make out at the +very bottom the still, black water. + +On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was at first +scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more than once fancied +that there existed some sort of misunderstanding between Lutchkov and +her, that he had not hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. +Lutchkov mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents expressed +their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at Avdey, and felt faint +with expectation. After dinner they were left alone; Masha did not know +what to say, she sat down to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly +and tremblingly over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting +for the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for music. +Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was at that time just +coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... Avdey Ivanovitch responded: +'Quite so,' 'by no means,' 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. +Masha played some brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. +Lutchkov listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, +his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped up at once +and closed the piano. She went up to the window, and for a long while +stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not stir from his seat, and still +remained silent. Impatience began to take the place of timidity in +Masha's soul. 'What is it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' +It was Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his +miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... 'It was +the devil's own notion to have anything to do with the wretched girl,' +he muttered to himself.... And all the while how easy it was to touch +Masha's heart at that instant! Whatever had been said by such an +extraordinary though eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would +have understood everything, have excused anything, have believed +anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of vexation were +standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be open, if I am really not +worthy of his confidence, why does he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps +it is that I don't set the right way to work to make him reveal +himself?'... And she turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, +so searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her glance, +and could not keep silence any longer.... + +'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I ought to +tell you something....' + +'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + +Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + +'I can't now...' + +'Why not?' + +'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + +'Why, we are alone now.' + +'Yes... but... here in the house....' + +Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, 'it's all +over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + +'I agree,' she said at last. + +'When then? Where?' + +Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + +'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the Long +Meadow?'... + +'Behind the mill?' + +Masha nodded. + +'What time?' + +'Wait...' + +She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she turned pale +and went quickly out of the room. + +A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his characteristic +politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, pressed his hand feelingly, +and begged him 'not to forget them'; then, having let out his guest, he +observed with dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to +shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn air to his +own room, with the same careworn air sat down on the sofa, and +guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + +'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her daughter, +on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite well?' + +'Yes, mamma.' + +Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's neck. + +'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that motherly +solicitude in which there is none the less audible a note of parental +authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy too. You're not well, +Masha.' + +'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of escape. + +'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on Masha's +forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + +Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + +Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender waist. + +'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she said +caressingly, not loosing her hands. + +Masha shuddered inwardly. + +'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + +Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's attention. + +'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + +But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and instead of +answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a laugh. + +'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + +'No, really, nothing.' + +'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short silence. 'I +know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's true, isn't it?' + +'Of course, mamma.' + +Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + +'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep anything from +me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + +'Oh yes, mamma.' + +And Masha hugged her. + +'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked about the +room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of one who feels that the +question asked is of no special importance; 'what were you talking about +with Avdey Ivanovitch to-day?' + +'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all sorts of +things....' + +'Do you like him?' + +'Oh yes, I like him.' + +'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how excited +you were?' + +Masha turned away and laughed. + +'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed +good-humouredly. + +Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held her tongue. + +'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer fish, but +still he's a nice man!' + +'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + +'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch wanted to +make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + +'What? Accept his present?' + +'Yes.' + +'Of course.' + +'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + +Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned back again. + +'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + +'What promise?' + +'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + +'I remember.' + +'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed musically.) 'Look +into my eyes.' + +Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + +'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt reassured. 'As if +she could deceive me!... How could I think of such a thing!... She's +still a perfect baby....' + +She went away.... + +'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + + +VI + + +Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his room. The +bully's face never expressed _one_ feeling; so it was now: feigned +indifference, coarse delight, consciousness of his own superiority... a +number of different emotions were playing over his features. + +'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question him. + +'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + +'Well? Are they all well?' + +'Of course, why not?' + +'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + +'Yes, I think so.' + +Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister looked +down and mused. + +'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring voice, +'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured fellow, but +you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for all that, if I may +venture to say so.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking +them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, +they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!' + +'I like and respect women, but------' + +'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not going to +argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain man.' + +'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just now,... are you +talking about women?' + +'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + +Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple heart!) +that Masha had been treating him badly; had been torturing him, perhaps, +as only women can.... + +'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + +Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + +'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he said, in a +drawling tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. 'No, only, look +here, Fedya,' he went on with the manner of a preceptor, 'I was only +going to point out that you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. +You believe me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a +little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things in your own +hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + +'Oh!' + +Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + +'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I shouldn't +have thought there was anything. There isn't anything, is there? And +here, I've a clandestine appointment for to-morrow.' + +Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement at Lutchkov. + +'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued serenely. +'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's only a bit of fun. +It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty little girl,... well, says I, +why not? Marriage, of course, I'm not going in for... but there, I like +to recall my young days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats--but +I may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the nightingales +together. Of course, it's really more in your line; but the wench has no +eyes, you see. I should have thought I wasn't worth looking at beside +you.' + +Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. His head +was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand over his face. +Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, screwed up his eyes, +stretched, and putting down Kister's emotion to jealousy, was almost +gasping with delight. But it was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; +he was wounded, not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse +carelessness, his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He +was still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for the +first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it was he had been +scheming for! This for which he had sacrificed his own inclinations! +Here it was, the blessed influence of love. + +'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he muttered at +last. + +'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant chuckle. + +Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even then; perhaps, +thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is 'humbugging' from old +habit... he has not yet found a new language to express new feelings. +And was there not in himself some other feeling lurking under his +indignation? Did not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply +because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps Lutchkov really +was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a thousand times no! That man in +love?... That man was loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his +nervous, cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, not +in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted friend the secret +of his love.... In overflowing happiness, in dumb rapture, with bright, +blissful tears in his eyes would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + +'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect it, and +now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? eh?' + +Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to the wall. +'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he whispered to himself. 'He +wouldn't understand me... so be it! He supposes none but evil feelings +in me--so be it!...' + +Avdey got up. + +'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I don't want to +be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... pleasant dreams!' + +And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + +Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With feverish +persistence he turned over and over and thought over and over the same +single idea--an occupation only too well known to unhappy lovers. + +'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she has flung +herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with me, with his friend, +to speak so disrespectfully, so offensively of her! In what way is she +to blame? How could any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced +girl? + +'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She has--yes, +she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he never tells a lie. But perhaps +it means nothing, a mere freak.... + +'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of insulting +her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for anything.... And wasn't it I +myself that praised him up and exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her +curiosity?... But who could have known this? Who could have foreseen +it?... + +'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... But, after +all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! What a lesson!' + +All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. 'Yes, I did +like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my liking cooled so +suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why did I ever like him? I +alone?' + +Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the very reason +that all the rest avoided him. But the good-hearted youth did not know +himself how great his good-heartedness was. + +'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? What right +have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in other people's love? +How do I know the nature of that love? Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, +no!' he said aloud, with irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out +his pillow, 'that man's stone.... + +'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious friend, +indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a sickening egoist I +am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I wish them happiness.... +Happiness! but he is laughing at her!... And why does he dye his +moustaches? I do, really, believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' +he repeated, as he fell asleep. + + +VII + + +The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When they met, +Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, too, found a change +in him, but neither spoke of it. The whole morning they both, contrary +to their habit, felt uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number +of hints and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but all +this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown away. Masha was +vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; she fancied that he +pronounced some words with intentional significance; but she was +conscious, too, of her own excitement, and did not trust her own +observations. 'If only he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what +she was thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that he +was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness and her +uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more afraid he was for her +the more impossible he found it to speak of Lutchkov; while Masha +obstinately refrained from uttering his name. It was a painful +experience for poor Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his +own feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She had, to +all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint flush stood in +patches on her pale face; her figure was faintly drooping; an +unconscious, weary smile never left her lips; now and then a shiver ran +over her white shoulders; a soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and +quickly faded away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and +possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in her mother's +presence Masha was armed _jusqu'aux dents,_ as the French say, and +she did not betray herself at all. So passed the whole morning. + +'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + +Masha turned away. + +'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. 'Excuse me... +duties of the service...' + +Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, following +her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I don't want to be in the +way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, as he passed her, but he bowed down +and whispered instead: 'Be happy... farewell... take care of +yourself...' and was gone. + +Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then felt +panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting her? Love or +curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity alone was enough to +ruin Eve. + + +VIII + + +Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground on the right +of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile from the Perekatovs' +property. The left bank, completely covered by thick young oak bushes, +rose steeply up over the stream, which was almost overgrown with willow +bushes, except for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild +ducks. Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long Meadow, +began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here and there with old +birch-trees, nut bushes, and guelder-roses. + +The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the distance, +sounding louder or softer according to the wind. The seignorial drove of +horses was lazily wandering about the meadows; a shepherd walked, +humming a tune, after a flock of greedy and timorous sheep; the +sheepdogs, from boredom, were running after the crows. Lutchkov walked +up and down in the copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near +by, more than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of the +mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered and shy, as +usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt wrathful with her and +annoyed with himself... but his excitement smothered his annoyance. He +stopped at last before a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip +switching off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + +He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces from him +stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a hat, but with no +gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily tied kerchief round her neck. +She dropped her eyes instantly, and softly nodded.... + +Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + +'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + +'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I +usually walk here in the evening... and you...' + +But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her +innocent deception. + +'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, 'you yourself +suggested...' + +'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you +wanted...' Her voice died away. + +Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + +'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not +used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, +I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....' + +'Speak.' + +'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long +while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...' + +Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence. + +'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no +changing one's destiny...' + +'How can one know?...' + +'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!' + +It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for +Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + +'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; +'some even too kind....' + +'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your +friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?' + +'No.... What do you want to say?' + +'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully +charming....' + +'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching +with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went +on--'look, what a view!' + +She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and +flushed red with the sunset. + +Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov +began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha.... + +'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little +head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which +is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls. + +'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's +pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine +sentiments are not in my line.' + +Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief silence +followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + +'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, though! Come, +more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in a fairly resolute voice. + +Masha turned to him. + +'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my side know +what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so to say,... amiably +disposed towards my person?' + +'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do you know, +Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's not always easy to +give a direct answer to a direct question.' + +'Still...' + +'But what is it to you?' + +'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + +'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?' +said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you have killed more than +one man?' + +'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his +moustaches. + +Masha looked intently at him. + +'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood had caught +fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had +been moving before his eyes. + +'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, 'you +know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for.... You've +been so kind.... You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for....' + +Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced sideways at +Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense you do talk,' and gave +him the flower. + +Avdey seized her hand. + +'And so you love me!' he cried. + +Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest +idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure +herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was +forestalling her, forcing her to speak out--he must be misunderstanding +her then.... This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. +She had never expected such a speedy _dénouement._... Masha, like +an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: 'Can it be that +Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a +respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with +him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting +to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + +Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough moustaches on +her cheek.... + +'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other happiness on +earth!' + +Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, +stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly +confused. + +'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect really...' + +Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A disagreeable smile +twisted his lips... patches of red came out on his face.... + +'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great matter.... +Why, we understand each other... and so....' + +Masha did not speak. + +'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing but...' Lutchkov +stretched out his hand to her. + +Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, sinking with +terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, 'Taniusha!' + +From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... Avdey was +completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence of her hand-maiden, +Masha did not stir. But the bully was shaking all over with rage; his +eyes were half closed; he clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + +'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick--no denying that!' he cried out. + +Masha was petrified. + +'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya Sergievna! +Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! Nowadays young ladies +see further than old men. So this is all your love amounts to!' + +'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to speak about +love... what love?' + +'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what next!' He felt +he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but he could not restrain +himself. + +'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to your request, +relying upon your _délicatesse_... but you don't know French... on +your courtesy, I mean....' + +Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + +'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very well that you +have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + +'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + +'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut her short +peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + +'Mr. Lutchkov...' + +'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's trouble thrown +away! you don't impress me.' + +Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked away. + +'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd lad, your +tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after her. He had lost his +head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + +Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She felt light +at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. She felt as though she +had waked up from a troubled sleep, had stepped out of a dark room into +air and sunshine.... Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless +frenzy he broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously +drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at the reins +that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a quarter of an hour and +almost expired the same night. + +Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next morning he +went round himself to see him. The orderly informed Fyodor Fedoritch +that his master was lying down and had given orders that he would see no +one. 'He won't see me even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked +twice up and down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and +then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + +'From whom?' + +'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + +Kister's hands began to tremble. + +'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to wait for +your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + +'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,--I want very, very much to see you. +Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I entreat you, +for the sake of our old friendship. If only you knew... but you +shall know everything. Good-bye for a little while,--eh? + +MARIE. + +'P.S.--Be sure to come to-morrow.' + + +'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's countenance, +and went out without uttering a word. + +'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a drink +with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the postillion. + + +IX + + +Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet Kister, when he +came into the drawing-room, she pressed his hand so warmly and +affectionately, that his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight +seemed rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however, say a single word, +and she promptly left the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the +sofa, playing patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not +yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the conversation round +from all extraneous topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a +plaid silk sash, Kister's favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all +laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up spirit and +described one of the merriest pranks of his youthful days, hiding his +head from his wife like an ostrich, as he told the story. + +'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to Kister after +dinner with that note of affectionate authority in her voice which is, +as it were, conscious that you will gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk +to you about something very, very important,' she added with enchanting +solemnity, as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, +_maman_?' + +'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + +'But we are not going into the garden.' + +'Where then?' + +'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + +'Take Taniusha with you.' + +'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly as a bird +from the room. + +A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the Long +Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of bread to her +favourite cow, patted it on the head and made Kister stroke it. Masha +was in great good humour and chatted merrily. Kister responded +willingly, though he awaited explanations with impatience.... Taniusha +walked behind at a respectful distance, only from time to time stealing +a sly glance at her young lady. + +'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + +'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + +'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + +'You were out of humour... that was all.' + +'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. That's +right.... You were out of humour too.' + +'Yes, I was too.' + +'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + +'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + +'And do you know why? Because...' + +Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because I am with +you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + +Kister softly pressed her hand. + +'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an undertone. + +'What about?' + +'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + +'I was waiting for...' + +'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him +impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, because you +are incapable... _parceque vous avez de la délicatesse_. One can +say that to you: you understand French.' + +Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least understand +Masha. + +'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha admired it, +and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from his arm, with an anxious +smile she began carefully sticking the tender stalk in the buttonhole of +Kister's coat. Her slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at +the fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though to say +'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of her gloves. + +Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha became +suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent altogether. They came +to the very place where Lutchkov had waited for her. The trampled grass +had not yet grown straight again; the broken sapling had not yet +withered, its little leaves were only just beginning to curl up and +fade. Masha stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + +'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about your +friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + +Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + +'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I made... an +appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + +'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + +'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before yesterday... Mr. +Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of his _conquest_.' + +Kister was about to answer.... + +'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know he's your +friend. You are capable of taking his part. You knew, Kister, you +knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me from acting so stupidly? Why +didn't you box my ears, as if I were a child? You knew... and didn't you +care?' + +'But what right had I...' + +'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your friend.... I'm +ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That man behaved to me yesterday, +as if...' + +Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + +'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, don't be +angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of yesterday's +explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' added Masha. 'What do you +suppose I am telling you about it for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? +Nonsense! I've forgotten about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good +friend.... I want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... +your advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease with +you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + +'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with difficulty; +'but...' + +'Why _but_? Aren't you ashamed to say _but_? He is coarse, +_and_ clumsy, _and_ ill-natured, _and_ conceited.... Do +you hear?--_and_, not _but_.' + +'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya Sergievna,' Kister +observed mournfully. + +'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like this when +they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may think what you like of +me... but if you imagine I am flirting with you to-day from pique, +well... well...' (tears stood in her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + +'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + +'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not open with +you, don't you see right through me?' + +'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a smile, seeing +with what anxious insistence she tried to catch his eyes. 'But tell me, +what induced you to arrange to meet Lutchkov?' + +'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to me alone. I +fancied he had never had time, never had an opportunity to speak freely. +He has spoken freely now! Do you know, he may be an extraordinary man, +but he's a fool, really.... He doesn't know how to put two words +together. He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him +much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. I hardly +ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, certainly, but I +imagined that a man who was worthy of being your friend...' + +'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister interposed. + +'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + +'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a friend.... +Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' Kister added hurriedly. + +Masha looked intently into his face. + +'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. It's a +lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. For several months +past I have almost every day seen a man who is good, clever, bright, +friendly who...' (Masha was confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, +cared... a little... for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on +quickly, 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + +She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + +Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept repeating to +himself. + +'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + +Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with unshed tears. + +'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + +Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha at once +clutched it warmly. + +'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you answer?' + +'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + +'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You understand me? +You're not laughing at a girl who made an appointment only yesterday +with one man, and to-day is talking to another, as I am talking to +you.... You're not laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed +crimson, she clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + +'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love you... I love +you,' he cried. + +Masha hid her face. + +'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + + +X + + +Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in his room, +writing the following letter to his mother:-- + +Dearest Mother!--I make haste to share my great happiness with you; I am +going to get married. This news will probably only surprise you from my +not having, in my previous letters, even hinted at so important a change +in my life--and you know that I am used to sharing all my feelings, my +joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for silence are not easy to +explain to you. To begin with, I did not know till lately that I was +loved; and on my own side too, it is only lately that I have realised +myself all the strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters +from here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am +engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly convinced that we +shall both be happy. My feeling for her is not a fleeting passion, but a +deep and genuine emotion, in which friendship is mingled with love. Her +bright, gentle disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is +well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you could only +see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I need hardly say she is +a hundred times better-looking than her portrait. Masha loves you +already, like a daughter, and is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. +I mean to retire, to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. +Mr. Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent +condition. You see that even from the material point of view, you cannot +but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come to Moscow and to you. +Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My own dearest mother, how happy I +am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + +Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the window, lighted +a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the table. He took out a small +sheet of notepaper, carefully dipped his pen into the ink, but for a +long while he did not begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes +to the ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his mind, +and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had composed the following: + +'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,--Since the day of your last visit (that is, for +three weeks) you have sent me no message, have not said a word to me, +and have seemed to avoid meeting me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to +act as he pleases; you have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I +do not, believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any way. +It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon any one +whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not to blame in the +matter. I am writing to you now from a feeling of duty. I have made an +offer to Marya Sergievna Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and +also by her parents. I inform _you_ of this fact--directly and +immediately--to avoid any kind of misapprehension or suspicion. I +frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel great concern about the +good opinion of a man who himself shows so little concern for the +opinions and feelings of other people, and I am writing to you solely +because I do not care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to +be acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and will not +ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. Addressing you for +the last time, I cannot, for the sake of our old friendship, refrain +from wishing you all good things possible on earth.--I remain, +sincerely, your obedient servant, Fyodor Kister.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed his +uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. Light-hearted and +happy, he walked up and down his little room humming, even gave two +little skips in the air, twisted a book of songs into a roll, and was +tying it up with blue ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a +coat without epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. +Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, without +finishing the bow he was tying. + +'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a calm voice. + +Kister fired up. + +'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say good-morning +when they come into another man's room.' + +'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. +'Good-morning.' + +'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to marry Miss +Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + +'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I congratulate +you.' + +'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I must be +starting.' + +'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, Fyodor +Fedoritch.' + +'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured fellow. 'I +must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your behaviour to me has +been so strange, and I think, on my side, I have not deserved... at +least, I had no reason to expect... But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you +like a pipe?' + +Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible in his +movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his eyebrows. + +'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you keep it up +with me so long?...' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you were just +such another as all the rest of us sinners all the while?' + +'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some way?...' + +'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak more plainly. +Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you had a liking for the +Perekatov girl all along, or is it a case of sudden passion?' + +'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my relations +with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + +'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to believe that +you've been humbugging me.' + +Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + +'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + +'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark forest, +and the best side of goods is always turned uppermost. I know you read +German poetry with great feeling and even with tears in your eyes; I +know that you've hung various maps on your walls; I know you keep your +person clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + +Kister began to lose his temper. + +'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object of your +visit? You have sent no message to me for three weeks, and now you come +to me, apparently with the intention of jeering at me. I am not a boy, +sir, and I do not allow any one...' + +'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor Fedoritch, +who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the other way; I've come to +you with a most humble request, that is, that you'd do me the favour to +explain your behaviour to me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who +forced me to make the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you +assure your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into +flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous Marya +Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to _you_ I'm indebted +for that final agreeable scene, of which you have doubtless been +informed in befitting fashion? An engaged girl, of course, tells her +betrothed of everything, especially of her _innocent_ indiscretions. +How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been made such a +terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest in my "blossoming out," +you know!' + +Kister walked up and down the room. + +'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you really--joking +apart--are convinced of what you say, which I confess I don't believe, +then let me tell you, it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an +insulting construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to +justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your memory.' + +'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya Sergievna. +Besides that, let me ask you another question: Weren't you at the +Perekatovs' after a certain conversation with me, after that evening +when I like a fool chattered to you, thinking you my greatest friend, of +the meeting she'd arranged?' + +'What! you suspect me...' + +'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with cutting +iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I have the weakness +to suppose that other men are no better than I am.' + +'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men are better +than you.' + +'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; 'but...' + +'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly infuriated, +'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... of... But these +explanations are leading to nothing, I see.... Think what you choose of +me, and act as you think best.' + +'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're beginning to +speak plainly.' + +'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + +'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on with an +affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, certainly. A man has been +acting, acting a part, and no one has recognised him as a humbug; and +all of a sudden...' + +'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, 'that it +was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I should feel sorry for +you; I could excuse you.... But in your abuse, in your false charges, I +hear nothing but the shriek of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy +for you.... You have deserved what you've got.' + +'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. 'Pride,' he +went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, has been mortified +intensely and insufferably. But who isn't proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm +proud, and for instance, I permit no one to feel sorry for me....' + +'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an expression, +sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you yourself have broken. I must +beg you to behave with me as with a complete outsider.' + +'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. 'Understand me; I +have sent you no message, and have not been to see you because I was +sorry for you; you must allow me to be sorry for you, since you 're +sorry for me!... I didn't want to put you in a false position, to make +your conscience prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you +could remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you were +only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied superiority...' + +Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + +'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. 'I must own +I don't see why you've been pleased to come to me.' + +'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked inquiringly. + +'I certainly don't see why.' + +'N--o?' + +'No, I tell you...' + +'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it of a fellow +of your intelligence!' + +'Come, speak plainly...' + +'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his feet, 'I +have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you understand now? I want to +fight you. Ah! you thought you could get rid of me like that! Why, +didn't you know the sort of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + +'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept your +challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + +'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to let his +victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll own to put a +bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance to-morrow.' + +'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister rejoined +contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of you.' + +'Oh, to be sure, _délicatesse_!... Ah, Marya Sergievna, I don't +know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on his cap. 'Till we meet again, +Fyodor Fedoritch!' + +He bowed and walked out. + +Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face burned, his +breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor anger; but it sickened +him to think what this man really was that he had once looked upon as a +friend. The idea of the duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to +him.... Once get free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, +and then to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I shall +be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed to smile to him, +to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be killed! not I!' he repeated +with a serene smile. On the table lay the letter to his mother.... He +felt a momentary pang at his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending +it off. There was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of +which a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all the +possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and himself in all +the agonies of misery and parting, and looked forward to the future with +hope. He swore to himself not to kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly +drawn to Masha. He paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and +directly after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening Kister +was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + +Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of evil, and +flirted charmingly with him. At first her unconsciousness wounded him, +then he took Masha's very unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was +rejoiced and reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him +every day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than passion. +Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated desires, and she +renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila Makarievna loved Kister +like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual followed his wife's lead. + +'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the hall and +gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and tenderly kissed her +hands. + +'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till we meet.' + +But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' house, he stood +up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness began looking for the +lighted windows.... All in the house was dark as in the tomb. + + +XI + + +Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an old major +of tried merit, came for him. The good old man growled to himself, bit +his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey Ivanovitch everything +unpleasant.... The carriage was brought to the door. Kister handed the +major two letters, one for his mother, the other for Masha. + +'What's this for?' + +'Well, one can never tell...' + +'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + +'Any way it's better...' + +The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side pocket of +his coat. + +'Let us start.' + +They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the village of +Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his former friend, the +perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, the birds were twittering +peacefully; not far from the copse a peasant was tilling the ground. +While the seconds were marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, +examining and loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at +one another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, swinging a +flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, with folded arms and +scowling brow. The decisive moment arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister +went rapidly towards the barrier, but he had not gone five steps before +Avdey fired, Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His +head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack on the +grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it possible?' whispered the +dying man. + +Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and sunken face +was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He looked at the adjutant +and the major, bent his head like a guilty man, got on his horse without +a word, and rode slowly straight to the colonel's quarters. + +Masha... is living to this day. + + + + + + +THREE PORTRAITS + + +'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of life in the +country. I knew a country gentleman of the Vologodsky district, who used +on every suitable occasion to repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I +have no neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that happy +mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the most thickly +peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by a vast number of dear +neighbours, from highly respectable and highly respected country +gentlemen, attired in ample frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, +down to regular loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a +so-called shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I +chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He had served in +the army, had retired and settled for good and all in the country. +According to his story, he had served for two years in the B------ +regiment. But I am totally unable to comprehend how that man could have +performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but even for two +days. He was born 'for a life of peace and country calm,' that is to +say, for lazy, careless vegetation, which, I note parenthetically, is +not without great and inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair +property, and without giving too much thought to its management, spent +about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent cook--my +friend was fond of good fare--and ordered too from Moscow all the newest +French books and magazines. In Russian he read nothing but the reports +of his bailiff, and that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not +go out shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till dinner-time +and at dinner. He would look through plans of some sort, or go round to +the stables or to the threshing barn, and joke with the peasant women, +who, to be sure, in his presence wielded their flails in leisurely +fashion. After dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the +looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed of two or +three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and unconcernedly with +one of them, play blind-man's-buff with them, return home rather late +and promptly fall into a heroic sleep. He could never be bored, for he +never gave himself up to complete inactivity; and in the choice of +occupations he was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child +with the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no particular +attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced to get a glimpse of +the track of a wolf or a fox, he would let his horse go at full gallop +over such ravines that to this day I cannot understand how it was he did +not break his neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of +persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know their own +value, that under their appearance of indifference strong and violent +passions lie concealed. But he would have laughed in one's face if he +could have guessed that one cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed +I must own I believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in +youth some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so sweetly +called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long ago died out. He was +rather stout and enjoyed superb health. In our day one cannot help +liking people who think little about themselves, because they are +exceedingly rare... and my friend had almost forgotten his own +personality. I fancy, though, that I have said too much about him +already, and my prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero +of my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + +One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, gathered +together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the whole morning out, had +run down a couple of foxes and a number of hares, and had returned home +in that supremely agreeable frame of mind which comes over every +well-regulated person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. +The wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging the +bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's house. We +reached the house, got off our horses.... On the steps I stood still and +looked round: long storm-clouds were creeping heavily over the grey sky; +a dark-brown bush was writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; +the yellow grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; +flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes among the +bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among the light brittle +twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped whistling. In the village +there was the hoarse barking of dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was +with a genuine sense of comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The +shutters were closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of +dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, there were +eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a fire glowed cheerfully +on the hearth, and an old and very stately-looking butler, with a huge +bald head, wearing an English dress, stood before another table on which +was pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by light +savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by another venerable man, +engaged in icing champagne--'according to the strictest rules of the +art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly pleasant. +We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's shooting, and +recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' After dining pretty +heartily, we settled comfortably into ample arm-chairs round the fire; a +huge silver bowl made its appearance on the table, and in a few minutes +the white flame of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable +intention 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some taste; +he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal an influence on +the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light of a lamp, and so he gave +orders that only two candles should be left in the room. Strange +half-shadows quivered on the walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the +fire in the hearth and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly +agreeable sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat +boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + +Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin proverb +says, like everything in the world. Our conversation that evening was +particularly many-sided and lively. From details it passed to rather +serious general questions, and lightly and casually came back to the +daily incidents of life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all +sank into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is flying +over. + +I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my tongue because +my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three dusty portraits in black +wooden frames. The colours were rubbed and cracked in places, but one +could still make out the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a +young woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up high, in +the style of the eighties of last century. On her right, upon a +perfectly black background, there stood out the full, round face of a +good-natured country gentleman of five-and-twenty, with a broad, low +brow, a thick nose, and a good-humoured smile. The French powdered +coiffure was utterly out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic +face. The artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson +colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding some +unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was the work of some +other more skilful hand, represented a man of thirty, in the green +uniform, with red facings, of the time of Catherine, in a white shirt, +with a fine cambric cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the +other lay on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of +insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew together over +the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely discernible lips played +an evil smile. + +'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch asked me. + +'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + +'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three persons?' + +'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + +Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the portraits, and +in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, +'this lady was the adopted child of my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna +N.N., called Lutchinov, who died forty years ago unmarried. This +gentleman,' he pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a +lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, expired by the +will of God in the year seventeen hundred and ninety. And this +gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of being related, is a certain +Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... +Kindly take note of the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the +heart should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, would +be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, 'he went on in +his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm yourselves with patience, +and listen.' + +Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not proud of +my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all fearful prodigals. Though +that reproach cannot indeed be made against my great-grandfather, Ivan +Andreevitch Lutchinov; on the contrary, he had the character of being +excessively careful, even miserly--at any rate, in the latter years of +his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived through the reign +of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and had by his wife, my +great-grandmother, four children, three sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, +my grandfather, and one daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch +took into his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and +destitute orphan--Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just now. My +great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his existence, for they +used (when nothing particularly unlucky occurred) to send him a trifling +rent, but they had never seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, +deprived of the bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing +exceedingly, when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family +coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's hut. The +peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, ran up and saw their +master and mistress and all their young ones, except the eldest, +Vassily, who was left behind in Petersburg. From that memorable day down +to the very day of his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. +He built himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure of +conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, and began +living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan Andreevitch was a man of +immense height, thin, silent, and very deliberate in all his movements. +He never wore a dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen +him without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his hands +clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. Every day he +used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, which he had planted with +his own hand; and before his death he had the pleasure of enjoying the +shade of those trees. Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his +words; a proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable fact +that in the course of twenty years he had not said a single word to his +wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with Anna Pavlovna altogether were of +a very curious sort. She directed the whole management of the household; +at dinner she always sat beside her husband--he would mercilessly have +chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word to her--and +yet he never spoke to her, never touched her hand. Anna Pavlovna was a +pale, broken-spirited woman, completely crushed. She prayed every day on +her knees in church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they +had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, lived on very +cordial terms with one another. They did say too that Anna Pavlovna had +been untrue to her matrimonial vows; that her conduct had come to her +husband's knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, +even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last illness, she +never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. One night, Anna +Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's bedroom--he suffered from +sleeplessness--a lamp was burning before the holy picture. My +grandfather's servant, Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words +later, went out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and +sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, tried to +say something--stretched out her hands... Ivan Andreevitch looked at +her, and in a faint voice, but resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant +went in; Anna Pavlovna hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her +place. + +Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. They grew up +in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan Andreevitch's strange +treatment of his wife. They all loved Anna Pavlovna passionately, but +did not dare to show their love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof +from them.... You remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his +death he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is the +force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan Ivanovitch, were +simple, good-hearted people, quiet and depressed. My grand'tante Natalia +married, as you are aware, a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life +she cherished an unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But +their brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that Ivan +Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then twelve. His father +confided him to the care of a distant kinsman, a man no longer young, a +bachelor, and a terrible Voltairean. + +Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but was +well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French excellently, and was +renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. He was considered one of the +most brilliant young men of the beginning of the reign of Catherine. My +father used often to tell me that he had known more than one old lady +who could not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt +emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional strength +of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and daring, reserved in +the extreme, and--according to the testimony of all his +contemporaries--fascinatingly, captivatingly attractive. He had no +conscience, no heart, no principle, though no one could have called him +positively a bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his +vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When Vassily +Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling affectionately, when +he wanted to fascinate any one, they say it was impossible to resist him; +and even people, thoroughly convinced of the coldness and hardness of +his heart, were more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his +personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, and made +other people, too, work for his advantage; and he was always successful +in everything, because he never lost his head, never disdained using +flattery as a means, and well understood how to use it. + +Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, he came for +a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant officer of the Guards, +and in that time succeeded positively in turning the head of the grim +old man, his father. Strange to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with +enjoyment to his son's stories of some of his _conquests_. His +brothers were speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of +a higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder of him +than any of her other children who were so sincerely devoted to her. + +Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily to visit his +people, but also with the second object of getting as much money as +possible from his father. He lived sumptuously in the glare of publicity +in Petersburg, and had made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get +round his father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on +this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his other +children together during twenty years spent under his roof, Vassily +followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what you can!' + +Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such another tall, +thin, taciturn person as his master. They say that this man Yuditch was +partly responsible for Ivan Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna +Pavlovna; they say he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue +with one of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely Yuditch +deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would be difficult to +conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory is held in veneration by +all my house-serfs to this day. My great-grandfather put unbounded +confidence in Yuditch. In those days landowners used to have money, but +did not put it into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in +chests, under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his +money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the head of his +bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to Yuditch. Every evening as +he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch used to bid him open the coffer in his +presence, used to tap in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a +stick, and every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and +carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these doings, and +burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred coffer. In the course of +five or six days he had _softened_ Yuditch, that is, he had worked +on the old man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young +master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on a careworn +and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer Yuditch's questions, +and at last told him that he had lost at play, and should make an end of +himself if he could not get money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, +flung himself on his knees before him, begged him to think of God, not +to be his own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering +a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously knocking at +his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway Yuditch pale and +trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily took in the whole position +at a glance. At first, for a long while, he refused to take it. With +tears Yuditch repeated, 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... +Vassily at last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to +Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of crockery. He +reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags with his stick, and not +noticing the hardly perceptible difference in the sound, and by Saturday +he hoped to obtain and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, +so he did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by Saturday +Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to win the sum from a +rich neighbour at cards, and instead of that, he lost it all. Meantime, +Saturday had come; it came at last to the turn of the bags filled with +broken crocks. Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + +'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + +'You stole the money?' + +'No, sir.' + +'Then some one took the key from you?' + +'I didn't give the key to any one.' + +'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + +'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + +'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So you're deceiving +me! For the last time I tell you--confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and +folded his hands behind his back. + +'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. 'A stick!' + +'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + +'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a thief! O +Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + +'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' Yuditch +articulated with effort. + +'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your service!' + +The servants came in. + +'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan Andreevitch's lips were +white and twitching. He walked up and down the room like a wild beast in +a small cage. + +The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + +'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to undertake him +myself, eh?' + +Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + +'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last time I tell +you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + +'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + +'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood be on my +head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The flogging began.... The door +suddenly opened, and Vassily came in. He was almost paler than his +father, his hands were shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare +a row of even, white teeth. + +'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I took the +money.' + +The servants stopped. + +'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + +'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily Ivanovitch the key +of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily Ivanovitch! why does your honour +trouble?' + +'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, Vassily, +thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you anyway. Why didn't +you tell me all about it directly? Hey, you there! why are you standing +still? do you too resist my authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, +my pretty gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + +The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + +'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The men did not +heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon them.... They stepped +back. + +'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his stick, he +approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched at the handle of his +sword, and bared it to half its length. Every one was trembling. Anna +Pavlovna, attracted by the noise, showed herself at the door, pale and +scared. + +A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. He tottered, +dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an arm-chair, hiding his face +in both hands. No one stirred, all stood rooted to the spot, Vassily +like the rest. He clutched the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his +eyes glittered with a weary, evil light.... + +'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in a low +voice, not taking his hands from his face. + +The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, then +suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his mother's hand... +and two hours later he had left the place. He went back to Petersburg. + +In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the steps of the +house serfs' hut. The servants were all round him, sympathising with him +and bitterly reproaching their young master. + +'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... why do you +abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare say is not very happy at +his audacity....' + +In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father again. +Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably with such a load of +sorrow on his heart as God grant none of us may ever know. Vassily +Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into the world, enjoyed himself in his own +way, and squandered money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I +cannot tell for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart +and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was passionately +attached to him and aided him in all his numerous manoeuvres. I do not +intend to relate in detail all the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was +possessed of such unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such +inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I must own I can +understand the complete sway that unprincipled person exercised even +over the noblest natures. + +Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, Vassily +Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He fought a duel, +seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced to leave the capital; he +was banished to his estate, and forbidden to leave it. Vassily +Ivanovitch was thirty years old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with +what feelings he left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used +to, and came into the country. They say that he got out of the hooded +cart several times on the road, flung himself face downwards in the snow +and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would have known him as the gay and +charming Vassily Ivanovitch they had seen before. He did not talk to any +one; went out shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid +caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in his ridicule +of his brothers, and of their wives (they were both married by that +time).... + +I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga Ivanovna. She +had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; she all but died on the +road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, as they say, in the fear of God and +her betters. It must be admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna +both treated her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint +spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily Ivanovitch. While +Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not dare even to wonder about the +cause of the strange, dumb feud between their parents, Olga was from her +earliest years disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like +Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. She was +devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old Lutchinov she +detested, and more than once, sitting at table, she shot such black +looks at him, that even the servant handing the dishes felt +uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never noticed these glances, for he +never took the slightest notice of his family. + +At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, but some bold +questions of Olga's forced her to complete silence. The children of Ivan +Andreevitch adored Olga, and the old lady too was fond of her, but not +with a very ardent affection. + +Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and every strong +feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear a proof of Vassily's +captivating charm as that he had made even his mother love him +passionately. Demonstrations of tenderness on the part of children were +not in the spirit of the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that +Olga did not dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna +Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said good-night to her. +Twenty years later, Russian girls began to read romances of the class of +_The Adventures of Marquis Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the +Cottage in the Forest_; they began to play the clavichord and to sing +songs in the style of the once very well-known: + + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. + + +But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born in 1757) +our country beauties had no notion of such accomplishments. It is +difficult for us now to form a clear conception of the Russian miss of +those days. We can indeed judge from our grandmothers of the degree of +culture of girls of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is +one to distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of their +long lives from what they were in the days of their youth? + +Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong Russian accent: +in her day there was as yet no talk of French emigrants. In fact, with +all her fine qualities, she was still pretty much of a savage, and I +dare say in the simplicity of her heart, she had more than once +chastised some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + +Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna had been +betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch Rogatchov, a very +good-natured and straightforward fellow. Nature had forgotten to put any +spice of ill-temper into his composition. His own serfs did not obey +him, and would sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and +leave poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could trouble the +peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been stout and indolent, +had never been in the government service, and was fond of going to +church and singing in the choir. Look, gentlemen, at this round, +good-natured face; glance at this mild, beaming smile... don't you +really feel it reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals +to drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with him his +Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every possible way. +Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on Ivan Andreevitch on his +own account, fell in love with Olga Ivanovna, and offered her his hand +and heart--not to her personally, but to her benefactors. Her +benefactors gave their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga +Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the words of my +grandmother, 'such refinements were not the thing.' Olga soon got used +to her betrothed, however; it was impossible not to feel fond of such a +gentle and amiable creature. Rogatchov had received no education +whatever; his French consisted of the one word _bonjour_, and he +secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose person had +taught him the following lines, as a French song: 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! +Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa--I adore you--me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed +song he always used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His +father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore a long +nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded with a smile. +From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, +father and son, had been tremendously busy. They had been having their +house entirely transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a +friendly way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had +not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put off the +wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan Andreevitch died; the +wedding was deferred till the following spring. In the winter Vassily +Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov was presented to him; he received him +coldly and contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by +his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a leaf at the +very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled nervously. Vassily once +almost annihilated him altogether--by making him a bet, that he, +Rogatchov, was not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost +cried with, embarrassment, but--actually!--a smile, a stupid, nervous +smile refused to leave his perspiring face! Vassily toyed deliberately +with the ends of his neckerchief, and looked at him with supreme +contempt. Pavel Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, +and after an interval of a few days--'for the sake of greater +formality'--he sallied off to Lutchinovka with the object of +'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent to the halls of his +ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed all over the countryside for his +eloquence--that is to say, for his capacity for enunciating without +faltering a rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of +bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not sustain his +reputation; he was even more disconcerted than his son, Pavel +Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite inarticulate, and though he +had never been used to taking vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to +carry things off'--he found Vassily at lunch,--tried at least to clear +his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in making the +slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel Afanasievitch whispered to his +parent, 'Well, father?' Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a +whisper, 'Don't speak of it!' + +The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at Lutchinovka. Though +indeed they were not the only people intimidated by Vassily; he awakened +in his own brothers, in their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an +instinctive feeling of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid +him in every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but +apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to them. Suddenly, +at the beginning of the spring, he became once more the charming, +attractive person they had known of old... + +The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's unexpected +visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in particular, was fairly +disconcerted at the sight of Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very +quickly vanished. Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. +He took young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new +buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, with his own +hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, asked to be shown Afanasey +Lukitch's stud horses, himself trotted them out on a halter, and +altogether so affected the good-hearted children of the steppes by his +gracious affability that they both embraced him more than once. At home, +too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to turn every one's +head just as before. He contrived all sorts of laughable games, got hold +of musicians, invited the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, +told the old ladies the scandals of the town in the most amusing way, +flirted a little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, +fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every thing and +every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the Lutchinovs was suddenly +converted into a noisy, brilliant, enchanted palace of which the whole +countryside was talking. This sudden transformation surprised many and +delighted all. All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. +Sagacious persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been +crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw chances of +returning to the capital... but the true cause of Vassily Ivanovitch's +metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + +Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her beauty consisted +rather in the extraordinary softness and freshness of her shape, in the +quiet grace of her movements than in the strict regularity of her +features. Nature had bestowed on her a certain independence; her +bringing up--she had grown up without father or mother--had developed in +her reserve and determination. Olga did not belong to the class of quiet +and tame-spirited young ladies; but only one feeling had reached its +full possibilities in her as yet--hatred for her benefactor. Other more +feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's heart with +abnormal and painful violence... but she had not the cold pride, nor the +intense strength of will, nor the self-centred egoism, without which any +passion passes quickly away. + +The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive natures is +sometimes extremely violent; but they give way very quickly, especially +when it is a question of relentless conformity with accepted principles; +they are afraid of consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly +confess, women of that sort always make the strongest impression on me. +... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. Rubbish! +rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; nothing in the world +makes a strong impression on you, my dear fellow!) + +Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in race. Olga +Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her foster sister, Natalia. +How did this blood show itself, do you ask? Why, in everything; in the +lines of her hands, in her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her +glance, in her carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In +all these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am bound to +admit that the--how can one express it?--_la distinction_, which +had fallen to Olga Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's +notice had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the wilds, +she not only caught his attention, she was positively the sole cause of +the transformation of which I have just been speaking. + +Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy life; he could +not but be bored in the country; his brothers were good-natured fellows, +but extremely limited people: he had nothing in common with them. His +sister, Natalia, with the assistance of her husband, had brought into +the world in the course of three years no less than four babies; between +her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to church, +prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. There remained only +Olga--a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... Vassily did not notice her at +first... indeed, who does notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from +charity in the house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, +Vassily was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off the +heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, which come out +first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon as they begin to grow +green. He was walking in the garden in front of the house; he lifted his +head, and caught sight of Olga Ivanovna. + +She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a tabby +kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, and with great +satisfaction held up her little nose into the rather hot spring +sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white morning gown, with short +sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, girlish shoulders and arms were a picture +of freshness and health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her +thick, soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was only +just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so charmingly; there +was such seductive negligence, such modesty in the restful pose of her +figure, free from corsets, that Vassily Ivanovitch (a great +connoisseur!) halted involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred +to him that Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive +ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very sweet and +charming woman. He stole up to the window, stretched up on tiptoe, and +imprinted a silent kiss on Olga Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little +below the elbow. + +Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the air and +leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a smile kept her by the +arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her ears; he began to rally her on her +alarm... invited her to come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became +suddenly conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than +the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + +The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was suddenly +happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love with Olga, no! the word +'love' is not to be used lightly.... He had found an occupation, had set +himself a task, and rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did +not even remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's +betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was fully aware +that it was not for her to be his wife.... Possibly there was passion to +excuse him--not a very elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a +fairly strong and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like +a boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very well what he +wanted and what he was striving for. + +Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in the shortest +time, any one however shy or prejudiced against him. Olga soon ceased to +be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch led her into a new world. He ordered +a clavichord for her, gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly +well on the flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with +her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head turned +completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew how to tell her of +what had been till then unknown to her, and to tell her in a language +she could understand. Olga little by little gained courage to express +all her feelings to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the +words she could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her +back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily busied himself +with her education from no disinterested desire to awaken and develop +her talents. He simply wanted to draw her a little closer to himself; +and he knew too that an innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more +easily seduced through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an +exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for he treated +her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, there was nothing +specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried all he could to work on her +imagination, and often in the evening she left his side with such a +whirl of new images, phrases and ideas in her head that she could not +sleep all night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning +cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went to the +window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark distance. Vassily +filled every moment of her life; she could not think of any one else. As +for Rogatchov, she soon positively ceased to notice his existence. +Vassily had the tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; +but he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or arranged some +noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a boating party by night with +torches and music--he did not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a +chance to think clearly. + +But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov dimly felt that +he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had somehow become as it were +an outsider to her... but in the boundless goodness of his heart, he was +afraid of wounding her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and +prized her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what to +say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two months passed +by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, disappeared at last in Olga. +Rogatchov, feeble and tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had +no wish even to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she +surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + +Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of the bliss of +love; but it was not for long. Though Vassily--for lack of other +occupation--did not drop her, and even attached himself to her and +looked after her fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she +found no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away from +Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did not dare to +think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, and was devoured by +misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in carrying her along with him and +making her forget everything and every one. But the very next day he +would find her pale, speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on +her lips.... There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but +no difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a skilled +gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga Ivanovna; she was +continually betraying herself, turning pale, blushing, weeping... her +new part was utterly beyond her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his +restless and boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have +detected something strained and feverish. He played his brothers, +sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns at chess. He was +everlastingly on the alert. Not a single glance, a single movement, was +lost on him, yet he appeared the most heedless of men. Every morning he +faced the fray, and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the +least oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four +hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was healthy, fresh, +and good-humoured. + +Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded in +persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of delay. Then +he despatched him to Moscow to make various purchases, while he was +himself in correspondence with friends in Petersburg. He took all this +trouble, not so much from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural +bent and liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning +to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a violent outbreak +of passion for her, he would look at her, as he sometimes did at +Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a riddle to every one. In the +coldness of his relentless soul you felt the presence of a strange +almost southern fire, and even in the wildest glow of passion a breath +of icy chill seemed to come from the man. + +Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But when they +were alone, he played with her like a cat with a mouse, or frightened +her with sophistries, or was wearily, malignantly bored, or again flung +himself at her feet, swept her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and +there was no feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was +moved himself. + +One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting alone in his +room, attentively reading over the last letters he had received from +Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a faint creak at the door, and Olga +Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, came in. + +'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + +'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + +'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing there for?' +he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + +'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants to see +you,' she said. + +'Why, what's the matter?' + +'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + +Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and went in to +Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, pale and passive. + +'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + +Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + +'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + +He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... She tried +to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman had no possible +doubt of her condition left her. + +Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a couple of +steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily cautiously sat down by Olga, +kissed and chafed her hands, comforted her in whispers. She listened to +him, and silently, faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, +stealthily wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even +ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. Olga +Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and stifled sobs. Tears +are like a storm; after them one is always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna +had quieted down a little, and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, +like a child, Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender +promises, soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her +to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote two or three +letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a gold locket containing +the portrait of a black-browed, black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous +face, scrutinised her features slowly, and walked up and down the room +pondering. + +Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor Olga's red +and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After breakfast he proposed a +stroll in the garden to her. Olga followed Vassily, like a submissive +sheep. When two hours afterwards she came in from the garden she quite +broke down; she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down +on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable show of +remorse, informed her that he was secretly married--he was really as +much a bachelor as I am. Olga Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon--people +don't fall into swoons except on the stage--but she turned all at once +stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to marry Vassily +Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think about it. Vassily had begun +to explain to her the inevitableness of her parting from him and +marrying Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. Vassily +talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, blamed himself, +expressed his regret, but concluded all his remarks with the following +words: 'There's no going back on the past; we've got to act.' + +Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and shame; a +dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for death, and waited in +agony for Vassily's decision. + +'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at last. + +Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + +'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust to me, I +won't desert you... I will make everything right... rely upon me.' + +The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and deep, but +hopeless devotion. + +'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her at +parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly hands.... + +Next morning--Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her bed--her door +opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in the doorway. She was supported +by Vassily. In silence she got as far as an arm-chair, and in silence +she sat down. Vassily stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows +were knitted and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, +indignant, angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga +Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her lover, with a +terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on her knees with a shriek in +the middle of the room, and hid her face in her hands. + +'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and bent down to +her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching Olga by the arm. + +'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me not to be +hard on her.' + +'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + +'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + +This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in her chair, +and burst into sobs. + +Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung herself at +the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, raised her from the +ground, and led her to another arm-chair. Anna Pavlovna went on weeping +and muttering disconnected words.... + +'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the trouble may +yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + +Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + +'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at Olga Ivanovna, +'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable family with impunity...' + +Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + +'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + +'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, her youth, +he--you wish to say something'--he broke off, seeing that Olga made a +movement towards him.... + +Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + +'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her this very +day. You may be sure I will not let him make a laughing-stock of us....' + +'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + +He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence again. + +'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. Look, she +is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon me; I answer for +everything; in any case, wait till I return. I tell you again, don't +torture her, or yourself, and trust to me.' + +He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come with me, leave +her alone, I beg of you.' + +Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down to the +ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, without a word or a +movement, looked after them. + +Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in her ear, +'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' +he called, running swiftly down the stairs, 'Bourcier!' + +A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage with his +valet. + +That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to the +district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his servants. Pavel +Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, looking through a collection +of faded butterflies. With lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was +carefully, with a pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night +sphinx' moth, when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on +his shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + +'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some amazement. + +Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + +Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at Vassily, and +subsided with his mouth open and his hands clasped. + +'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are you meaning +to dance at your _wedding soon?_' + +'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and your sister +... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + +'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel +Afanasievitch.' + +'How so?' + +'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I know all; +you understand me, and I order you without delay to-morrow to marry +Olga.' + +'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from his seat; +'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of myself and there's no +need to give me orders.... I confess, Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite +understand you.' + +'You don't understand me?' + +'No, really, I don't understand you.' + +'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + +'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself put off +our wedding more than once? Except for you it would have taken place +long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking it off. What is the meaning +of your threats, your insistence?' + +Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + +'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated +emphatically. + +'Excuse me... I will... but...' + +'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + +'Who has confessed?' + +'Olga Ivanovna.' + +'Why, what has she confessed?' + +'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? I'm not a +stranger to you.' + +'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I positively +don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna confess?' + +'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + +'May God slay me...' + +'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you understand?' + +'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing Vassily. 'Olga +Ivanovna... you tell me...' + +'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'--Vassily with a smile +patted him on the shoulder--'though you do look so innocent.' + +'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you mean, +explain, for God's sake!' + +Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + +Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + +Vassily stamped. + +'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + +'Yes... your betrothed...' + +'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I never wish +to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Good-bye to her for ever! +What do you take me for? I'm being duped... I'm being duped... Olga +Ivanovna, how wrong of you, have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from +his eyes.) 'Thanks, Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never +wish to see her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful +Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, very well!' + +'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. 'Remember, +you've given me your word: the wedding's to-morrow.' + +'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I say again, +what do you take me for? You do me too much honour. I'm humbly obliged. +Excuse me.' + +'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + +'Sword... what for?' + +'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + +Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it a little +against the floor. + +'You want... to fight... me?' + +'Precisely so.' + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can I, only +think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man of honour, Vassily +Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + +'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so good as to +fight with me.' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + +'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + +'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You thought you +would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare him, you thought, he's +a coward, and he'll agree to anything directly... No, Vassily +Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much as you are, though I've not had city +breeding, and you won't succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse +me.' + +'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + +'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + +'Get me the sword--there--you know, in the loft... make haste....' + +Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became exceedingly pale, +hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put on a reddish coat with big +paste buttons... twisted a cravat round his neck... Vassily looked at +him, and twiddled the fingers of his right hand. + +'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + +'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and hurriedly +buttoned up his shirt. + +'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... what is it to +you... And believe me, I'll...' + +'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll kill me or +maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my honour; if I'm to die +then I must die.' + +Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old sword in a +torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen wore swords with +powder, but in the steppes they only put on powder twice a year. Eroshka +moved away to the door and burst out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed +him out of the room. + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some embarrassment, 'I can't +fight with you on the spot: allow me to put off our duel till to-morrow. +My father is not at home, and it would be as well for me to put my +affairs in order to--to be ready for anything.' + +'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + +'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + +'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of patience.... Either +give me your word to marry her at once, or fight...or I'll thrash you +with my cane like a coward,--do you understand?' + +'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + +But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, utterly +distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees before Rogatchov, and +clasped his legs.... + +'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it you are +about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, your honour? Sure, +he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the word, you say the word, and +we'll make an end of him, the insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, +my baby-boy, for the love of God!' + +A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there was even the +red beard of the village elder... + +'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + +'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are you about? +What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us all out of the light +of day.... Why are you fellows standing still? Take the uninvited guest +in hand and show him out of the house, so that not a trace be left of +him.' + +'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + +'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' said Pavel +Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, and you others, off +with you, do you hear?...' + +Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out a small +silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered from close by. +Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel Afanasievitch. + +'What's to be the end of this farce?' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I do with +this crazy old woman?...' + +'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, and he +swiftly raised his cane... + +Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, snatched up the +sword, and rushed through another door into the garden. + +Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, painted +cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves in, and drew their +swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons in fencing, but now he was +scarcely capable of drawing a sword properly. The blades crossed. +Vassily was obviously playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel +Afanasievitch was breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into +Lutchinov's face. + +Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of people were +running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov heard the heart-rending +wail of old age...he recognised the voice of his father. Afanasey +Lukitch, bare-headed, with dishevelled hair, was running in front of +them all, frantically waving his hands.... + +With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent the sword +flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + +'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this foolery!' + +'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his eyes, and +shook all over. + +Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the summerhouse. + +'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + +Rogatchov shook his head. + +'Well, damn you, then!' + +Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed him to the +heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst into the summerhouse, +but Vassily had already jumped out of window... + +Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She rushed in +terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; took out his sword and +pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait in the place of the heart. Olga +shrieked and fell unconscious on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna +Pavlovna. He found her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are +avenged.' The poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + +Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two years later he +came back stricken with paralysis--tongue-tied. He found neither Anna +Pavlovna nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of +Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who could +understand his incoherent stuttering. + +1846. + + + + + + +ENOUGH + +A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + + +I + +II + +III + + +'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over the steep +mountainside down to the quiet little brook. 'Enough,' I said again, as +I drank in the resinous fragrance of the pinewood, strong and pungent in +the freshness of falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat +on the mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, +lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their pale green +blades.... 'Enough.' + +No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to keep firm +hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No more to brood over +the voluptuous sweetness of vague, seductive ecstasy, no more to run +after each fresh form of beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of +her delicate, strong wings. + +All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. What to me +now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than ever, the sunset floods +the heavens as though aflame with some triumphant passion? What to me +that, amid the soft peace and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces +hence, hidden in a thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung +his heart out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on +earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first love? All +this was, has been, has been again, and is a thousand times +repeated--and to think that it will last on so to all eternity--as +though decreed, ordained--it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + + +IV + + +Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me once--in +those happy days of old, when I too was aflame like the sunset and my +heart sang like the nightingale. + +There is no hiding it--everything has faded about me, all life has +paled. The light that gives life's colours depth and meaning--the light +that comes out of the heart of man--is dead within me.... No, not dead +yet--it feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + +Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to the grating +window of an old church, and leaned against the faulty pane. It was dark +under the low arched roof--a forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon +the ancient picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the +sacred face--stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered about it, +ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the feeble ray of +impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the light; and such the +darkness. + + +V + + +And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten friend, to +thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for ever, but shall not cease +to love till my life's end.... Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But +that I have no wish to speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, +in these wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and +through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I feel the +sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + +For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence in which I +am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on all my past... our +past.... No hope and no return; but no bitterness is in my heart and no +regret, and clearer than the blue of heaven, purer than the first snow +on mountain tops, fair memories rise up before me like the forms of +departed gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow procession +they follow one another like those draped Athenian figures we admired so +much--dost thou remember?--in the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + + +VI + + +I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, and sheds +brightness on all around him... I long to talk with thee of the time +when in my heart too that light burned bright with blessing... Listen... +and I will fancy thee sitting before me, gazing up at me with those +eyes--so fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to be +forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his heart thy +glance--that glance that seems to flow from depths unknown even as +mysterious springs--like ye, both clear and dark--that gush out into +some narrow, deep ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + + +VII + + +It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I had seen +thee for the first time and--not yet dreaming of what thou wouldst be to +me--already, silently, secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to +cross one of the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, +but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. The snow was +melting everywhere--steadily but slowly; there was the running of water +on all sides; a noiseless wind strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky +alike were steeped in one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was +there light; not one object stood out clear in the general whiteness, +everything looked both close and indistinct. I left my cart far behind +and walked swiftly over the ice of the river, and except the muffled +thud of my own steps heard not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides +by the first breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually +gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, a glad +tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within me... it drew me +on, it hastened me, and so strong was the flood of gladness within me, +that I stood still at last and with questioning eyes looked round me, as +I would seek some outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, +white, slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated a +flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome spring!' I shouted +aloud: 'welcome, life and love and happiness!' And at that instance, +with sweetly troubling shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image +blossomed aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and +radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only--that I am all filled +full of thee.... + + +VIII + + +I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures float before +me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my life I meet thee. Now an +old Russian garden rises up before me on the slope of a hillside, +lighted up by the last rays of the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars +peeps out the wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish +smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate stands +just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with faltering hand; and I +stand and wait and gaze at that gate and the sand of the garden +path--wonder and rapture in my heart. All that I behold seems new and +different; over all a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already +I catch the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a +bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my heart burns and +shudders in joyous dread before the approaching, the alighting +rapture.... + + +IX + + +Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. In rows +kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful chill, of something +grave and melancholy is wafted from the high, bare roof, from the huge, +branching columns. Thou standest at my side, mute, apart, as though +knowing me not. Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved +in stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the stained +windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, violently thrilling the +incense-clouded air, thrilling us within, rolled out the mighty flood of +the organ's notes... and I saw thee paler, rigid--thy glance caressed +me, glided higher and rose heavenwards--while to me it seemed none but +an immortal soul could look so, with such eyes... + + +X + + +Another picture comes back to me. + +No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; the low +walls of a little snug room shut us off from the whole world. What am I +saying? We are alone, alone in the whole world; except us two there is +nothing living--outside these friendly walls darkness and death and +emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not the rain +streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, his sightless eyes +are weeping. But with us all is peaceful and light and warm and +welcoming; something droll, something of childish innocence, like a +butterfly--isn't it so?--flutters about us. We nestle close to one +another, we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I +feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear that thou +livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is born on my face +before it is on thine, thou makest mute answer to my mute question, thy +thoughts, my thoughts are like the two wings of one bird, lost in the +infinite blue... the last barriers have fallen--and so soothed, so +deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished that we have +no need for word or look to pass between us.... Only to breathe, to +breathe together is all we want, to be together and scarcely to be +conscious that we are together.... + + +XI + + +Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September when we +walked through the deserted, still flowering garden of a forsaken palace +on the bank of a great river--not Russian--under the soft brilliance of +the cloudless sky. Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly +flowing river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of +voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the unfamiliar +monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws in the high sun-lit +treetops, and the tender words and smiles and looks, long, soft, +piercing to the very in-most soul, and the beauty, beauty in our lives, +about us, on all sides--it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat +in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of feeling--I cannot +forget it till the hour I die! How delicious were those few strangers +passing us with brief greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet +boats floating by (in one--dost thou remember?--stood a horse pensively +gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of the tiny ripples by +the bank, and the very bark of the distant dogs across the water, the +very shouts of the fat officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, +with outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We both felt +that better than those moments nothing in the world had been or would be +for us, that all else... But why compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: +enough. + + +XII + + +For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid them +farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, his gold, his +bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, grey earth; so the wick of +a smouldering lamp flickers up in a last bright flare and sinks into +cold ash. The wild creature has peeped out from its hole for the last +time at the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and +has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to sleep. Will he +have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun and the grass and the blue +kindly water?... + + +XIII + + +Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at the first, +absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in ourselves, we are not +aware of her harsh hand. While one can be deceived and has no shame in +lying, one can live and there is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full +truth, of that, indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can +reach locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the No.' +Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall to pieces, not +to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... of self-contempt,--calmly +to turn away from all, to say 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon +the empty breast, to save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, +the dignity of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal +hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the whole +universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher than the universe, +because he would know it was crushing him, and it would know it not. A +poor dignity! A sorry consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by +it, to have faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and +there's no refuting those words of menace: + + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' + + +I quoted these lines from _Macbeth_, and there came back to my mind +the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no ghosts, no fantastic, +unearthly powers are terrible; there are no terrors in the Hoffmann +world, in whatever form it appears.... What is terrible is that there is +nothing terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, uninteresting +and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked through and through with that +knowledge, once one has tasted of that bitter, no honey more seems +sweet, and even the highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of +perfect nearness, of complete devotion--even that loses all its magic; +all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its brevity. Yes; a +man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of eternal bliss, of undying +raptures, and lo, no trace is left of the very worm that devoured the +last relic of his withered tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, +when all is lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare +forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the fog and +turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once the gnats swarm up +on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, bustle, flutter up and down, +circle round one another... The sun is hidden--the gnats fall in a +feeble shower, and there is the end of their momentary life. + + +XIV + + +But are there no great conceptions, no great words of consolation: +patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; those words there are, +and many men live by them and for them. And yet it seems to me that if +Shakespeare could be born again he would have no cause to retract his +Hamlet, his Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in +human life: still the same motley picture--in reality so little +complex--would unroll before him in its terrifying sameness. The same +credulity and the same cruelty, the same lust of blood, of gold, of +filth, the same vulgar pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the +name... why, in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered +at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which the +many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, the same workings +of power, the same traditions of slavishness, the same innateness of +falsehood--in a word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old +unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear repeating his +cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words means: 'None is without +offence.' and he too would say 'enough!' he too would turn away. One +thing perhaps, may be: in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, +the great poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the +tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own virtue, and +sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too sumptuous a dinner at the +very time when his half-crushed victims try to find comfort in picturing +him, like Richard, haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + +But to what end? + +Why prove--picking out, too, and weighing words, smoothing and rounding +off phrases--why prove to gnats that they are really gnats? + + +XV + + +But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they are more +powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. Venus of Milo is, may +be, more real than Roman law or the principles of 1789. It may be +objected--how many times has the retort been heard!--that beauty itself +is relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other than the +European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of art confounds me; +its transitoriness, again its brevity, its dust and ashes--that is what +robs me of faith and courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, +may be, than nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no +picture of Ruysdäel, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted pedants or +disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art is the imitation of +nature. But at the end of all, nature is inexorable; she has no need to +hurry, and sooner or later she takes her own. Unconsciously and +inflexibly obedient to laws, she knows not art, as she knows not +freedom, as she knows not good; from all ages moving, from all ages +changing, she suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is +her child; but man's work--art--is hostile to her, just because it +strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the child of nature; but +she is the universal mother, and she has no preferences; all that exists +in her lap has arisen only at the cost of something else, and must in +its time yield its place to something else. She creates destroying, and +she cares not whether she creates or she destroys--so long as life be +not exterminated, so long as death fall not short of his dues.... And so +just as serenely she hides in mould the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus +as the simplest pebble, and gives the vile worm for food the priceless +verse of Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work of +of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the force of +nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian recklessly smashing +the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage yells with which he casts in +the fire the picture of Apelles? How are we, poor folks, poor artists to +be a match for this deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her +conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How stand +against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, unceasingly moving +upward? How have faith in the value and dignity of the fleeting images, +that in the dark, on the edge of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an +instant? + + +XVI + + +All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, said Schiller; +and nature in the incessant play of her rising, vanishing forms is not +averse to beauty. Does not she carefully deck the most fleeting of her +children--the petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly--in the +fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite lines? Beauty +needs not to live for ever to be eternal--one instant is enough for her. +Yes; that may be is true--but only there where personality is not, where +man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing spoiled appears +again and again for a thousand years as the same wing of the same +butterfly; there sternly, fairly, impersonally necessity completes her +circle... but man is not repeated like the butterfly, and the work of +his hands, his art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for +ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but strange and +dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... for one hour--as there +was, in the tale, a caliph for an hour. In this is our pre-eminence--and +our curse; each of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even +this _I_ is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on lines +laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware of his +significance, is aware that he is innately something noble, eternal--and +lives, and must live in the moment and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, +my friend, and aspire to the skies! The greatest among us are just those +who more deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; +though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as greatest, great? + +[Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's words +to Faust:-- + + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht-- + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + --AUTHOR'S NOTE.] + + +XVII + + +What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one cannot apply +such terms, even in the sense given them by the feeble tongue of man? +What can one say of the ordinary, common, second-rate, third-rate +toilers--whatsoever they may be--statesmen, men of science, +artists--above all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb +indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the field of +battle, if once the conception has stolen into their brains of the +nullity of everything human, of every sort of effort that sets before +itself a higher aim than the mere winning of bread? By what crowns can +they be lured for whom laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what +end will they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the +judgment of the fool'--of the old fool who cannot forgive them from +turning away from the old bogies--of the young fool who would force them +to kneel with him, to grovel with him before the new, lately discovered +idols? Why should they go back again into that jostling crowd of +phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat each other +alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is paltry and worthless? Why +'with impotence in their bones' should they struggle back into that +world where the peoples, like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in +the mire for handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed +adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that world where +only that is living which has no right to live, and each, stifling self +with his own shouting, hurries feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended +goal? No... no.... Enough... enough... enough! + + +XVIII + + +...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the original.--TRANSLATOR'S +NOTE.] + +1864. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 8696-8.txt or 8696-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/6/9/8696/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Posting Date: April 5, 2014 [EBook #8696] +Release Date: August, 2005 +First Posted: August 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + </h1> + <center> + <b>BY IVAN TURGENEV<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <i>Translated from the Russian</i><br> + <i>By CONSTANCE GARNETT</i><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK<br> + WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV<br> + SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION<br></b> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the + childish attitude of certain English men of letters to the + novel in general, their depreciation of its influence and of + the public's 'inordinate' love of fiction. Many men of + letters to-day look on the novel as a mere story-book, as a + series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their 'idle + hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, + and poetry as the age's <i>serious</i> contribution to + literature. Whereas the reverse is the case. The most serious + and significant of all literary forms the modern world has + evolved is the novel; and brought to its highest development, + the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour of being the + supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + </p> + <p> + To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden + marked out for the crowd's diversion—a field of + recreation adorned here and there by the masterpieces of a + few great men—argues in the modern critic either an + academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed + obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama + in all but two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by + artists as a coarse playground for the great public's romps + and frolics, but the novel can be preserved exactly so long + as the critics understand that to exercise a delicate art is + the one <i>serious</i> duty of the artistic life. It is no + more an argument against the vital significance of the novel + that tens of thousands of people—that everybody, in + fact—should to-day essay that form of art, than it is + an argument against poetry that for all the centuries droves + and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and rhymesters have + succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in + worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be + vindicated in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm + of critics in stripping bare the false, and in hailing as the + true all that is animated by the living breath of beauty. The + true function of the novel! That can only be supported by + those who understand that the adequate representation and + criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men + were the novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned + to the mass of vulgar standards. That the novel is the most + insidious means of mirroring human society Cervantes in his + great classic revealed to seventeenth-century Europe. + Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great + realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century + that the novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their + days to the days of Henry James the form of the novel has + been adapted by European genius to the exact needs, outlook, + and attitude to life of each successive generation. To the + French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must be given + the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has + become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, + however, reserved for the youngest of European literatures, + for the Russian school, to raise the novel to being the + absolute and triumphant expression by the national genius of + the national soul. + </p> + <p> + Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best + defined by saying that while he stands as a great classic in + the ranks of the great novelists, along with Richardson, + Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, Thackeray, Meredith, + Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest of them + all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been + recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both + wider in its range and more beautiful in its form than the + work of any modern European artist. The novel modelled by + Turgenev's hands, the Russian novel, became <i>the</i> great + modern instrument for showing 'the very age and body of the + time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life in all + its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the + same time to assess its values by the great poetic insight + that reveals man's relations to the universe around + him,—that is an art only transcended by Shakespeare's + own in its unique creation of a universe of great human + types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we + see that if he has made the novel both more delicate and more + powerful than their example shows it, it is because as the + supreme artist he filled it with the breath of poetry where + others in general spoke the word of prose. Turgenev's horizon + always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and + Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev + speaks for the nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an + endless stream of human figures, Turgenev's characters reveal + themselves as wider apart in the range of their spirit, as + more mysteriously alive in their inevitable essence, than do + Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or + Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in <i>War + and Peace</i>, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole + generation, Turgenev in <i>Fathers and Children</i> + concentrates in the few words of a single character, Bazarov, + the essence of modern science's attitude to life, that + scientific spirit which has transformed both European life + and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further + parallels between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England + alone, perhaps, is it necessary to say to the young novelist + that the novel can become anything, can be anything, + according to the hands that use it. In its application to + life, its future development can by no means be gauged. It is + the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief + method to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. + If you love your art, if you would exalt it, treat it + absolutely seriously. If you would study it in its highest + form, the form the greatest artist of our time has + perfected—remember Turgenev. + </p> + <p> + EDWARD GARNETT. + </p> + <p> + November 1899. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#1">THE JEW</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#2">AN UNHAPPY GIRL</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#3">THE DUELLIST</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#4">THREE PORTRAITS</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#5">ENOUGH</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="1"></a> + <h2> + THE JEW + </h2> + <p> + ...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai + Ilyitch. + </p> + <p> + The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke + between his moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, + looked at us and considered. We all had the greatest liking + and respect for Nikolai Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, + common sense, and kindly indulgence to us young fellows. He + was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; his dark + face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: + Lermontov in the <i>Treasurer's Wife</i>.—AUTHOR'S + NOTE.] straight-forward, clever glance, gentle smile, manly + and mellow voice—everything about him pleased and + attracted one. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, listen then,' he began. + </p> + <p> + It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the + E—— regiment of cuirassiers, and had just, I + recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It is an + exhilarating occupation—fighting; and marching too is + good enough in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a + besieging army. There one sits the whole blessed day within + some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on mud or straw, + playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from simple + boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets + flying. + </p> + <p> + At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they + quickly subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions + too; we were overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that + we were ready to howl for sheer <i>ennui</i>. I was not more + than nineteen then; I was a healthy young fellow, fresh as a + daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the fun I could out + of the French... and in other ways too... you understand what + I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to do, I + fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my + luck turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I + had won an immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out + into the fresh air, and sat down on a mound. It was a + splendid, calm morning; the long lines of our fortifications + were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and then + began to doze where I was sitting. + </p> + <p> + A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing + before me a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey + wrapper, slippers, and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose + name was Girshel, was continually hanging about our camp, + offering his services as an agent, getting us wine, + provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, + red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked + incessantly with his diminutive little eyes, which were + reddish too; he had a long crooked nose, and was always + coughing. + </p> + <p> + He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I only—I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be + of use to your honour in some way...' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't want you; you can go.' + </p> + <p> + 'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there + might be, sir, something....' + </p> + <p> + 'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to + congratulate you on your success....' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, how did you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... + immense....Oh! how immense....' + </p> + <p> + Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + </p> + <p> + 'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the + devil's the good of money here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. + Money's a capital thing; always of use; you can get anything + for money, your honour; anything! anything! Only say the word + to the agent, he'll get you anything, your honour, anything! + anything!' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your + honour doesn't believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed + his eyes and slowly wagged his head to right and to left.... + 'Oh, I know what his honour the officer would like.... I + know,... to be sure I do!' + </p> + <p> + The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + </p> + <p> + 'Really!' + </p> + <p> + The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + </p> + <p> + 'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel + again closed his eyes and shot out his lips. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see + for yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you + won't believe... better tell me to show you... that's the + thing, that's the thing!' + </p> + <p> + I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you + then....' + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the + shoulder, but skipped back at once as though he had been + scalded. + </p> + <p> + 'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + </p> + <p> + 'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with + unusual warmth, waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... + if so, your honour, you order me to be given five hundred... + four hundred and fifty lashes,' he added hurriedly....' You + give orders—' + </p> + <p> + At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent + and called me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a + gold coin. + </p> + <p> + 'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + </p> + <p> + I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening + with some impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; + our regiment marched to the attack. The evening came on; we + sat round the fires... the soldiers cooked porridge. My + comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank tea, and listened + to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of + cards—I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. + Gradually the officers dispersed to their tents; the fires + began to die down; the soldiers too dispersed, or went to + sleep on the spot; everything was still. I did not get up. My + orderly squatted on his heels before the fire, and was + beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was + hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it + were waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night + came on. A long while I watched the dying flame.... The last + fire went out. 'The damned Jew was taking me in,' I thought + angrily, and was just going to get up. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my + ear. + </p> + <p> + I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and + whispered something. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The + Jew shrank into himself, and stepped warily over the short, + damp grass. I observed on one side a motionless, muffled-up + figure. The Jew beckoned to her—she went up to him. He + whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his head several + times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to + relate, I was breathless. + </p> + <p> + 'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, + 'you see. She's a little frightened at the moment, she's + frightened; but I've told her his honour the officer's a good + man, a splendid man.... Don't be frightened, don't be + frightened,' he went on—'don't be frightened....' + </p> + <p> + The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state + of dreadful confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel + too was fidgeting restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange + way.... + </p> + <p> + 'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as + it seemed, Girshel obeyed. + </p> + <p> + I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark + hood off her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by + the faint, reddish, flickering glow of the distant fire I saw + the pale face of a young Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I + stood facing her, and gazed at her in silence. She did not + raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. Girshel + was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. + I waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + </p> + <p> + 'What's your name?' I said at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the + darkness the gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped + eyes and little, even, flashing teeth. + </p> + <p> + I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, + and asked her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat + down. She was wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, + with round, chased silver buttons, and full sleeves. Her + thick black hair was coiled twice round her little head. I + sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. She + resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there + was a catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, + and timidly pressed her cold, shaking fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know Russian?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... a little.' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you like Russians?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I like them.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then, you like me too?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I like you.' + </p> + <p> + I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away + quickly.... + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, please, sir, please...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + </p> + <p> + She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once + turned away with a smile, and blushed. + </p> + <p> + I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her + eyelids and softly laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it?' + </p> + <p> + She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + </p> + <p> + Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook + his finger at her. She ceased laughing. + </p> + <p> + 'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me + sick!' + </p> + <p> + Girshel did not go away. + </p> + <p> + I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them + in his hand and pushed him out. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, me too....' she said. + </p> + <p> + I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them + like a cat. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and + beseeching voice. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you frightened of?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, nonsense....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, please.' + </p> + <p> + She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side + and clasped her hands. I let her alone. + </p> + <p> + 'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and + she raised her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I + kissed it. Sara laughed again. + </p> + <p> + My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not + know what to do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + </p> + <p> + I turned to her again. + </p> + <p> + 'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know.' + </p> + <p> + 'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + </p> + <p> + Sara shook her head. + </p> + <p> + 'No, answer me properly.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, show yourself,' she said. + </p> + <p> + I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, + began scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not + contain myself, and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She + jumped up and in one bound was at the entrance of the tent. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + </p> + <p> + She did not speak and did not stir. + </p> + <p> + 'Come here to me....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of + words to her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + </p> + <p> + I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get + another glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + </p> + <p> + The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + </p> + <p> + The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I + was playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who is it?' + </p> + <p> + 'A Jew.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the + rubber, got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your + honour, are you satisfied?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, you———!' (Here the colonel glanced + round. 'No ladies present, I believe.... Well, never mind, + any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, 'so you're making + fun of me, are you?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so, indeed! What a question!' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said + reproachfully, but never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young + and modest.... You frightened her, indeed, you did.' + </p> + <p> + 'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... + only, please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and + leave us in peace; do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + Girshel's eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you say? You like her?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. + And have you something for me now?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring + her and then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined + hurriedly. 'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near + the tent, your honour, if you like; I'll... I'll go away, + your honour, if you like, a little.... I'm ready to do your + honour a service.... I'll move away... to be sure, I will.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + 'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a + beauty, eh?' + </p> + <p> + Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'She's good-looking.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + </p> + <p> + I threw him a coin; we parted. + </p> + <p> + The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting + for a long while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It + struck two in the town. I was beginning to curse the Jew.... + Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I jumped up took her in my + arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold as ice. I + could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit + down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her + waist.... She did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she + broke into loud, convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to + soothe her, to persuade her.... She wept in torrents.... I + caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she did not resist, + made no answer to my questions and wept—wept, like a + waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out + of the tent. + </p> + <p> + Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + </p> + <p> + 'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. + Take Sara away.' + </p> + <p> + The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and + clutched hold of him. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. + We'll see each other again some other time.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my + hand and pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + </p> + <p> + For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my + Jewess. Girshel did not make his appearance, and no one had + seen him in the camp. I slept rather badly at nights; I was + continually haunted by wet, black eyes, and long eyelashes; + my lips could not forget the touch of her cheek, smooth and + fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging party + to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were + ransacking the houses, I remained in the street, and did not + dismount from my horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my + foot.... + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us, Sara!' + </p> + <p> + She was pale and excited. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting + us.... Your honour....' + </p> + <p> + She recognised me and flushed red. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, do you live here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where?' + </p> + <p> + Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse + and galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and + tattered Jewess was trying to tear out of the hands of my + long sergeant, Siliavka, three hens and a duck. He was + holding his booty above his head, laughing; the hens clucked + and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading + their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the + house I heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called + to my men and told them to leave the Jews alone, not to take + anything from them. The soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on + his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as he called her, + 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a smile. + </p> + <p> + 'What has become of you all this time?' + </p> + <p> + She dropped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'I will come to you to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the evening?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir, in the morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + </p> + <p> + 'No... no, I won't.' + </p> + <p> + I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me + handsomer than ever. I remember I was particularly struck by + the even, amber tint of her face and the bluish lights in her + black hair.... I bent down from my horse and warmly pressed + her little hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the + party, and galloped off. + </p> + <p> + The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of + the tent. It was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen + and every blade of grass was sparkling in the dew and the + crimson glow. I clambered on to a high breastwork, and sat + down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, cast-iron + cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I + looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of + a bent figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I + recognised Girshel. He stood without moving for a long while + in one place, then suddenly ran a little on one side, looked + hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a cry, squatted + down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round + again and listening. I could see all his actions very + clearly. He put his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of + paper and a pencil, and began writing or drawing something. + Girshel continually stopped, started like a hare, attentively + scrutinised everything around him, and seemed to be sketching + our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half + closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. + At last, the Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his + slipper, and stuffed the paper in it; but he had not time to + regain his legs, when suddenly, ten steps from him, there + appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the whiskered + countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole + of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew + stood with his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him + and laid his heavy paw on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to + shrink into himself. He shook like a leaf and uttered a + feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him + threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear + their conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the + Jew, and his supplicating appearance, I began to guess what + it was. The Jew twice flung himself at the sergeant's feet, + put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a torn check + handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold coins.... + Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not + leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a + sudden bound and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in + pursuit. The Jew ran exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue + stockings, flashed by, really very rapidly; but Siliavka + after a short run caught the crouching Jew, made him stand + up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I got + up and went to meet him. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,—'it's a spy I'm + bringing you—a spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was + streaming with perspiration. 'Stop that wriggling, devilish + Jew—now then... you wretch! you'd better look out, I'll + throttle you!' + </p> + <p> + The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into + Siliavka's chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were + rolling convulsively.... + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + </p> + <p> + 'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his + right foot,—I can't get at it.' He was still holding + the Jew in his arms. + </p> + <p> + I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded + piece of paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our + camp. On the margin were a number of notes written in a fine + hand in the Jews' language. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew + opened his eyes, saw me, and flung himself on his knees + before me. + </p> + <p> + Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + </p> + <p> + 'What's this?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's—-nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice + broke. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, + pressed my knees in terror.... + </p> + <p> + 'Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + 'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I + never did; I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly + impossible. I'm ready—I'll—this minute—I've + money to give... I'll pay for it,' he whispered, and closed + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish + hair was soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips + were blue, and working convulsively; his brows were + contracted painfully; his face was drawn.... + </p> + <p> + Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give + Girshel a good fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his + tongue, but now the affair had become public, and could not + escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + </p> + <p> + 'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of + despair. 'I am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let + me go, tell him...' + </p> + <p> + 'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come + along.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me—'tell him! + have mercy!' + </p> + <p> + His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a + man of German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict + in his adherence to military discipline. I went into the + little house that had been hastily put up for him, and in a + few words explained the reason of my visit. I knew the + severity of the military regulations, and so I did not even + pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair + before him as something quite trifling and not worth + attention. But, unhappily for Girshel, the general put doing + his duty higher than pity. + </p> + <p> + 'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, + 'inexperienced are. You in military matters yet inexperienced + are. The matter, of which you to me reported have, is + important, very important.... And where is this man who taken + was? this Jew? where is he?' + </p> + <p> + I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in + the Jew. The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's + the plan which on this man found was?' + </p> + <p> + I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away + again, screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + </p> + <p> + 'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who + arrested him?' + </p> + <p> + 'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in + your defence?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... + indeed,... your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your + Excellency; ask his honour the officer.... I'm an agent, your + Excellency, an honest agent.' + </p> + <p> + 'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an + undertone, wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you + explain this, my friend?' 'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, + I'm not guilty.' + </p> + <p> + 'That is not probable, however. You were—how is it said + in Russian?—taken on the fact, that is, in the very + facts!' + </p> + <p> + 'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + </p> + <p> + 'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + </p> + <p> + 'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your + Excellency!' + </p> + <p> + The general looked at Siliavka. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer + here took the plan out of his slipper.' + </p> + <p> + The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + </p> + <p> + 'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + </p> + <p> + 'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? + Confess....' + </p> + <p> + 'How could I?' + </p> + <p> + 'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the + skirts of his gown. + </p> + <p> + 'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief + silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor + Schliekelmann?' + </p> + <p> + They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. + Girshel began to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes + seemed starting out of his head. The adjutant came in. The + general gave him the requisite instructions. The secretary + showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an instant. Two or + three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + </p> + <p> + 'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German + as best I could; 'let him off....' + </p> + <p> + 'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to + you, are inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, + and me no more to trouble.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, + your Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a + daughter... have mercy....' + </p> + <p> + 'It's no use!' + </p> + <p> + 'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, + your Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + </p> + <p> + 'You furnished no other documents?' + </p> + <p> + 'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my + children... have mercy....' + </p> + <p> + 'But you are a spy.' + </p> + <p> + 'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + </p> + <p> + The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of + it. + </p> + <p> + 'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said + constrainedly, with the air of a man forced to do violence to + his heart, and sacrifice his better feelings to inexorable + duty—'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg you to draw up a + report of the occurrence....' + </p> + <p> + A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the + ordinary timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his + face was reflected the horrible agony that comes before + death. He writhed like a wild beast trapped, his mouth stood + open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, he positively + leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had on + only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on + again... his gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + </p> + <p> + We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + </p> + <p> + 'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched + creature.' + </p> + <p> + 'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, + and not without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + </p> + <p> + 'For pity's sake....' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the + general, and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + </p> + <p> + I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no + post anywhere, I remained at no great distance from the + general's house. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by + Siliavka and three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of + stupefaction, and could hardly move his legs. Siliavka went + by me to the camp, and soon returned with a rope in his + hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a look of + strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope + the Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The + soldiers stood silently about him, and stared grimly at the + earth. I went up to Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a + baby, and did not even look at me. With a hopeless gesture I + went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, and closed my + eyes.... + </p> + <p> + Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I + raised my head and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She + rushed up to me, and clutched at my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + 'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + </p> + <p> + 'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + </p> + <p> + 'To what father?' + </p> + <p> + 'My father; they are going to hang him....' + </p> + <p> + 'What! is Girshel...?' + </p> + <p> + 'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, + wringing her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + </p> + <p> + We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a + solitary birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... + Sara pointed to them without speaking.... + </p> + <p> + 'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The + soldiers won't obey me.' + </p> + <p> + Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head + was going round. + </p> + <p> + 'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in + running here? It would be better for me to go to the general + again; let's go together; who knows, we may persuade him.' + </p> + <p> + Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were + crazy. + </p> + <p> + 'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for + your father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + </p> + <p> + 'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + </p> + <p> + I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + </p> + <p> + 'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, + tell them to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the + general.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, sir.' + </p> + <p> + Ivanov ran off. + </p> + <p> + We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I + begged, persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara + tore her hair and rushed at the sentinels; they would not let + us pass. + </p> + <p> + Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, + and ran at breakneck pace towards the open country, to her + father. I followed her. Every one stared at us, wondering. + </p> + <p> + We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and + picture it, gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor + Girshel. I flew into a rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw + us and fell on his daughter's neck. Sara clung to him + passionately. + </p> + <p> + The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just + beginning to thank me... I turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not + pardoned?' + </p> + <p> + I did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'No?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, + look... she, this girl, see—you know—she's my + daughter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! + I wouldn't for anything...' + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted + your money, your honour, I must own... but not for + anything....' + </p> + <p> + I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his + accomplice.... + </p> + <p> + 'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, + 'I'll command her... I... do you understand?... everything... + I'll go to every length....' + </p> + <p> + He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him + hurriedly. Sara silently and passionately embraced him. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant came up to us. + </p> + <p> + 'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders + to place you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the + soldiers to the Jew... 'quickly.' + </p> + <p> + Siliavka went up to the Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had + come with him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor + girl....' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course. Certainly.' + </p> + <p> + The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was + muttering something to her in Yiddish.... + </p> + <p> + The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's + arms, and carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at + once she broke from their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... + Siliavka stopped her. Sara pushed him away; her face was + covered with a faint flush, her eyes flashed, she stretched + out her arms. + </p> + <p> + 'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, + thrice accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with + the curse of Dathan and Abiram, the curse of poverty and + sterility and violent, shameful death! May the earth open + under your feet, godless, pitiless, bloodthirsty dogs....' + </p> + <p> + Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They + lifted her up and carried her away. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it + was they had been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the + camp with Sara. He was really ludicrous, in spite of all the + horror of his position. The intense anguish of parting with + life, his daughter, his family, showed itself in the Jew in + such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, and + wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was + horrible—intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch + was half dead with terror.... + </p> + <p> + 'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to + tell you... a lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know + me. I'm an agent, an honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a + minute, a little minute, a tiny minute—wait! Let me go; + I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I know, she's + at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he + bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the + quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The + soldiers were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a + deafening shriek, and wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your + Excellency, have pity on the unhappy father of a family. I'll + give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, your + Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare + me! have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your + Excellency, the general and commander-in-chief!' + </p> + <p> + They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed + away. + </p> + <p> + I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the + widow of the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes + of the deceased. The general ordered a hundred roubles to be + given to her. Sara I never saw again. I was wounded; I was + taken to the hospital, and by the time I was well again, + Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the + banks of the Rhine. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="2"></a> + <h2> + AN UNHAPPY GIRL + </h2> + <p> + Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful + days... and I would rather not recall them.... But I have + made you a promise; I shall have to tell you the whole story. + Listen. + </p> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in + the house of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was + eighteen; I had only just passed from the second into the + third course in the faculty 'of Language' (that was what it + was called in those days) in the Moscow University. My aunt + was a gentle, quiet woman—a widow. She lived in a big, + wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses + such as, I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. + She saw hardly any one, sat from morning till night in the + drawing-room with two companions, drank the choicest tea, + played patience, and was continually requesting that the room + should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions ran into the + hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would + bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, + and stepping hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he + would sprinkle the mint with vinegar. White fumes always + puffed up about his wrinkled face, and he frowned and turned + away, while the canaries in the dining-room chirped their + hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering mint. + </p> + <p> + I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She + placed the whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. + My rooms were furnished very elegantly, not at all like a + student's rooms in fact: there were pink curtains in the + bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned with blue rosettes, + towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, rather an + annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were + calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it + was, they nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could + never succeed in forcing myself to smoke. I studied—why + conceal my shortcomings?—very lazily, especially at the + beginning of the course. I went out a great deal. My aunt had + bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with a pair + of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were + rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed + masses of tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted + myself no breach of decorum, and behaved very discreetly, + <i>en jeune homme de bonne maison</i>. I would not for + anything in the world have pained my kind aunt; and besides I + was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no + idea of the science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One + day in a café, I was the spectator of a prolonged + contest at chess, between two players, of whom one, a + fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as + playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play + a match with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, + beat me easily, three times running. + </p> + <p> + 'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a + courteous tone, noticing probably that my vanity was + suffering; 'but you don't know the openings. You ought to + study a chess-book—Allgacir or Petrov.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come to me; I will give you one.' + </p> + <p> + He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next + day I went to see him, and a week later we were almost + inseparable. + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. + He lived with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow + of a privy councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart + and lived quite independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He + had a post in the department of Court affairs. I became + genuinely attached to him. I had never in my life met a young + man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about him was charming and + attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his voice, and + especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue + eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little + nose, the unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the + light curls of soft hair over the rather narrow, snow-white + brow. Fustov's character was remarkable for exceptional + serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained affability; he + was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with + everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over + anything. Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon + him; 'that's savage, savage,' he would say with a faint + shrug, half closing his golden eyes. Marvellous were those + eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed sympathy, + good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that + I noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely + from their setting, that it never changed, even when he was + sipping his soup or smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a + byword between us. His grandmother, indeed, had been a + German. Nature had endowed him with all sorts of talents. He + danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a first-rate + swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books + and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of + flowers or Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the + zither with feeling; knew a number of tricks, with cards and + without; and had a fair knowledge of mechanics, physics, and + chemistry; but everything only up to a certain point. Only + for languages he had no great facility: even French he spoke + rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share in + our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright + sympathy of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was + attractive, undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such + importance among young people, he did not care to enlarge, + and fully deserved the nickname given him by his comrades, + 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; there + was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, + though in reality it was only manifested by his never + refusing to see me when I called. To my mind Fustov was the + happiest man in the world. His life ran so very smoothly. His + mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles all adored him, + he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and + enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + </p> + <h3> + IV + </h3> + <p> + One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him + in his study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of + panting and splashing reached me from there. Every morning + Fustov took a cold shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter + of an hour practised gymnastic exercises, in which he had + attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive anxiety about + one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did not + neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't + over-excite yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) + Fustov had not yet made his appearance, when the outer door + of the room where I was waiting flew wide open, and there + walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish uniform. He was + a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a + dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. + This person stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth + wide, and with a metallic chuckle, he gave himself a smart + slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up in front as he did so. + </p> + <p> + 'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + </p> + <p> + 'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What + are you up to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' + (The voice of the man addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the + same harsh, metallic note as his laugh.) 'I've trudged all + this way to give your little brother his lesson; and he's got + a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He can't do + his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again + dealt himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a + check handkerchief out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, + ferociously rolling his eyes, spat into the handkerchief, and + ejaculated with the whole force of his lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, + asked us if we were acquainted. + </p> + <p> + 'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the + veteran of the year twelve has not that honour!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran + of the year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, + professor of... various subjects.' + </p> + <p> + 'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch + chimed in. 'Come to think of it, what is there I haven't + taught, and that I'm not teaching now, for that matter! + Mathematics and geography and statistics and Italian + book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear + sir?'—he pounced suddenly upon me—'ask Alexander + Daviditch if I'm not first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a + poor sort of Bohemian—Czech, I should say—if I + weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is + ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't + we seen you for so long! We ought to have a little duet... + ha-ha! Really!' + </p> + <p> + 'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan + Demianitch,' replied Fustov. + </p> + <p> + 'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to + side in a strange, restless way. + </p> + <p> + 'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he + addressed me again. 'But that's because you don't understand + my temperament. You must just ask our good friend here, + Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about me. What'll he tell + you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, good-hearted + chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! + At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called + Ivan Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I + wear my heart, as they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all + sorts I know naught about and don't want to neither! Can't + bear it! You drop in on me one day of an evening, and you'll + see for yourself. My good woman—my wife, that + is—has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and + bake you... something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't + it the truth I'm telling?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued + Mr. Ratsch. 'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of + his pocket and put it up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd + better be toddling on, I suppose. I've another chick + expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... + mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, + at the Red Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks + to your brother's cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen + kopecks for sledge hire to the good! Ha-ha! A very good day + to you, gentlemen, till we meet again!... Eh?... We must have + a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the passage putting on + his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard his + metallic laugh. + </p> + <h3> + V + </h3> + <p> + 'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had + already set to work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a + foreigner? He speaks Russian so fluently.' + </p> + <p> + 'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As + long ago as 1802, some prince or other brought him from + abroad... in the capacity of secretary... more likely, valet, + one would suppose. He does speak Russian fluently, + certainly.' + </p> + <p> + 'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, + these Russianised Germans.' + </p> + <p> + 'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + </p> + <p> + 'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? + Was he in the militia, or what?' + </p> + <p> + 'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained + in Moscow and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov still went on with his turning. + </p> + <p> + 'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; + but that must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received + compensation from the treasury for his losses.' + </p> + <p> + 'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in + government service then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a + petty councillor.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's his wife like?' + </p> + <p> + 'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or + butcher....' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you often go to see him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'What, is it pleasant there?' + </p> + <p> + 'Rather pleasant.' + </p> + <p> + 'Has he any children?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his + first wife.' + </p> + <p> + 'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + </p> + <p> + 'About five-and-twenty,' + </p> + <p> + I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel + turned more rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his + feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Is she good-looking?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and + she's altogether... a remarkable person.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special + earnestness, and to my next question he only responded by a + grunt. + </p> + <p> + 'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + </p> + <h3> + VI + </h3> + <p> + A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to + spend the evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard + and garden, in Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky + boulevard. He came out into the passage, and meeting us with + his characteristic jarring guffaw and noise, led us at once + into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a stout lady + in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. + Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been + possessed of what the French for some unknown reason call + <i>beauté du diable</i>, that is to say, freshness; + but when I made her acquaintance, she suggested involuntarily + to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly laid by the + butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word + 'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of + cleanliness, but everything about her, everything in the + house positively shone, and glittered; everything had been + scoured, and polished, and washed: the samovar on the round + table flashed like fire; the curtains before the windows, the + table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the little + frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting + there, stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their + mother, with coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their + foreheads, and red, shapeless fingers. All the four of them + had rather flat noses, large, swollen-looking lips, and tiny, + light-grey eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand + on the children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, + Sashka and Mashka! This one's eight, this one's seven, that + one's four, and this one's only two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can + see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! Eh, Eleonora + Karpovna?' + </p> + <p> + 'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna + and she turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. + Ratsch pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all + baptized into the Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so + Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon my soul, she is, though she + is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are you Slavonic?' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm + a Russian lady and all you may say....' + </p> + <p> + 'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke + in Ivan Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be + sure I love Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? + And my children too are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze + ruhig mit den Füssen!' + </p> + <p> + Ratsch waved his hand to her. + </p> + <p> + 'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's + the nobly born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! + He'll come across the inspector one of these fine days! He'll + give him a talking-to! Das ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + </p> + <p> + 'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie + wissen wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + </p> + <p> + I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at + what induced him to visit such people... but at that instant + there came into the room a tall girl in a black dress, the + elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom Fustov had referred.... + I perceived the explanation of my friend's frequent visits. + </p> + <h3> + VII + </h3> + <p> + There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something + about 'a white dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just + the impression made on me by the girl, who entered the room. + Between the world surrounding her and herself there seemed to + be too little in common; she herself seemed secretly + bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the + members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, + simple-hearted, healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already + careworn, face bore the traces of depression, pride and + morbidity. The others, unmistakable plebeians, were + unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but simple; + but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably + aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace + of the type characteristic of the German race; she recalled + rather the children of the south. The excessively thick, + lustreless black hair, the hollow, black, lifeless but + beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the aquiline nose, + the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic line + near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, + something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the + movements, elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this + would not have struck me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near + the Pretchistensky boulevard, it simply astonished me! I got + up from my seat on her entrance; she flung me a swift, uneasy + glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down near the + window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's <i>Oniegin</i> was then + fresh in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my + friend was standing with his back to me, taking a cup of tea + from the plump hands of Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further + that the girl as she came in seemed to bring with her a + breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a statue!' was + my thought. + </p> + <h3> + VIII + </h3> + <p> + 'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let + me introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! + to Susanna Ivanovna!' + </p> + <p> + I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too + is not the same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose + slightly, without smiling or loosening her tightly clasped + hands. + </p> + <p> + 'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander + Daviditch? eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and + I've got the bassoon out of its case already. Let us make + sweet music for the honourable company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to + display his Russian; he was continually bursting out with + expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast about + the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you + say? Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no + objection. 'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with + the music-stand! Olga, this way with the zither! And oblige + us with candles for the stands, better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch + turned round and round in the room like a top.) 'Piotr + Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, + you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not + above a whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that + silly chap, Viktor? He ought to be here to listen too! You + spoil him completely, Eleonora Karpovna.' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + </p> + <p> + 'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast + verstanden? Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + </p> + <p> + The children had promptly done as their father had told them. + The music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already + mentioned that Fustov played the zither extremely well, but + that instrument has always produced the most distressing + impression upon me. I have always fancied, and I fancy still, + that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a decrepit + Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and + complaints against the merciless musician who forces it to + utter sounds. Mr. Ratsch's performance, too, was not + calculated to give me much pleasure; moreover, his face + became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant expression, + while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were + just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were + swearing and threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out + chokingly husky, coarse notes one after another. I placed + myself near Susanna, and waiting for a momentary pause, I + asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + </p> + <p> + She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and + pronounced abruptly, 'Who?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have + misunderstood... But I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + </p> + <p> + 'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + </p> + <p> + I was silent for a while. + </p> + <p> + 'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + </p> + <p> + Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something + suggesting a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not + expected nor desired the continuation of our conversation. + </p> + <p> + 'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. + 'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with + startling fury, executing the final flourishes. I turned + round, caught sight of the red neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen + like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his projecting ears, and + very disgusting I thought him. + </p> + <p> + 'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said + in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + 'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though + catching my secret hint. + </p> + <p> + 'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at + something. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in + her German Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very + beautifully plays the piano, only she likes not to play the + piano when she is greatly pressed to play.' + </p> + <p> + Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply—she did not + even look at her—only there was a faint movement of her + eyes, under their dropped lids, in her direction. From this + movement alone—this movement of her pupils—I + could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna + cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again + I was delighted at something. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with + hesitating footsteps approached the window, near which + Susanna and I were sitting, and asked her if she had received + from Lengold's the music that he had promised to order her + from Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + 'Selections from <i>Robert le Diable,</i>' he added, turning + to me, 'from that new opera that every one's making such a + fuss about.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning + round with her face to the window she whispered hurriedly. + 'Please, Alexander Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me + play to-day. I don't feel in the mood a bit.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan + Demianitch, coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a + first-class article! He's a Jew, and all Jews, like all + Czechs, are born musicians. Especially Jews. That's right, + isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + </p> + <p> + In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, + there could be heard something more than his usual bantering + tone—the desire to wound was evident. So, at least, I + fancied, and so Susanna understood him. She started + instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A spot of + light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and + rising quickly, she went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled + after her. + </p> + <p> + 'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. + 'Wenn sie einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + </p> + <p> + 'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his + heels, and slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the + <i>plexus solaris.</i> Oh! you needn't look at me like that, + Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm + even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora Karpovna... I cure + all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at that!' + </p> + <p> + 'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter + responded with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and + gracefully swaying to and fro, looked at the husband and + wife. + </p> + <p> + 'And why not be joking, mein Mütterchen?' retorted Ivan + Demianitch. 'Life's given us for use, and still more for + beauty, as some celebrated poet has observed. Kolka, wipe + your nose, little savage!' + </p> + <h3> + IX + </h3> + <p> + 'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through + your doing,' I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way + home with him. 'You told me that that girl—what's her + name?—Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. Ratsch, but + she's his stepdaughter.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it + all the same?' + </p> + <p> + 'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! + Did you notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews + before her? Is she... a Jewess?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow + was crisp, like salt, under our feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he + observed at last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish + extraction.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + </p> + <p> + 'Probably.' + </p> + <p> + 'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is + his stepson too?' + </p> + <p> + 'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter + into other people's affairs, and I don't like asking + questions. I'm not inquisitive.' + </p> + <p> + I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near + home, I overtook him and peeped into his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov frowned. + </p> + <p> + 'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only + she's very shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. + He seemed to be regretting having made me acquainted with + her. + </p> + <p> + I said nothing and we parted. + </p> + <h3> + X + </h3> + <p> + Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my + mornings at his rooms had become a necessity for me. He + received me cordially, as usual, but of our visit of the + previous evening—not a word! As though he had taken + water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the + pages of the last number of the <i>Telescope.</i> + </p> + <p> + A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to + be Mr. Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been + censured by his father the evening before. + </p> + <p> + He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked + dissipated and unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on + his unclean face, and an expression of fatigue in his swollen + eyes. He was like his father, only his features were smaller + and not without a certain prettiness. But in this very + prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a + very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's + coat, one of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked + of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + 'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar + twitchings of the head and shoulders which I have always + noticed in spoilt and conceited young men. 'I meant to go to + the University, but here I am. Sort of oppression on my + chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across the room, + listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his + trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to + each other. We were both students, but were in different + faculties. + </p> + <p> + 'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior + smiled, again not without a certain prettiness, though he + showed a set of bad teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. + Yes'—he lighted a cigar and cleared his + throat—'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where's he going?' + </p> + <p> + 'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You + know the black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + </p> + <p> + 'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed + Fustov. + </p> + <p> + Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our + den yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'As usual.' + </p> + <p> + 'And <i>she</i>... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with + his head in my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be + bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + </p> + <p> + Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round + his head, gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat + hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as + though giving me to understand that it was no use talking to + such a dolt. + </p> + <h3> + XI + </h3> + <p> + Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately + and through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, + of a certain Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of + him, of the new professor, R., whom he called a brute. + 'Because, only fancy, what a monstrous notion! Every lecture + he begins with calling over the students' names, and he's + reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your liberals locked up + in custody!' and turning at last his full face and whole body + towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, + half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, + Alexander Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round + somehow?... You play duets with him, you know.... Here he + gives me five miserable blue notes a month.... What's the use + of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he goes on about my + not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, and + then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like + <i>some people</i>.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with + peculiar emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's + no use his whining about hard times, there's no taking me in. + No fear! He's made a snug little pile!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + </p> + <p> + 'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if + you like... meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added + Viktor, scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, + 'you might hand over five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the + same to you.... What's the blessed total I owe you?' + </p> + <p> + 'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred + and ten. I'll pay it all in a lump.' + </p> + <p> + Fustov went into the next room, brought back a + twenty-five-rouble note and handed it in silence to Viktor. + The latter took it, yawned with his mouth wide open, grumbled + thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up from the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn + in to the "Italie."' + </p> + <p> + He moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with + himself. + </p> + <p> + 'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor + Ivanitch?' he asked at last. + </p> + <p> + Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets + one. An awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it + you one of these days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer + affair. But, I say, the governor, you won't forget about the + governor, please! His hide is thick, of course—German, + and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you can get through + it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! Dad's + afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her + brats! But there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + 'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as + the door had slammed-to. + </p> + <p> + His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned + away from me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + </p> + <h3> + XII + </h3> + <p> + All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about + Susanna, and about her relations. I had a vague feeling of + something like a family drama. As far as I could judge, my + friend was not indifferent to Susanna. But she? Did she care + for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And altogether, what + sort of creature was she? These questions were continually + recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told + me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the + solution of them. It ended in my setting off the next day + alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + </p> + <p> + I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I + found myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear + even, very likely,' flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to + stop with the repulsive veteran and his cook of a wife.... + And indeed, even if she does show herself, what of it? She + won't even take part in the conversation.... She was anything + but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I + come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page + ran to announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after + two or three wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard + the heavy shuffling of slippers, the folding-door was + slightly opened, and in the crack between its two halves was + thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and + grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not + immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once + recognise me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes + narrower, and from his opening mouth, there burst, together + with a guffaw, the exclamation: 'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? + Pray walk in!' + </p> + <p> + I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to + me that this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly + wishing me at the devil. There was nothing to be done, + however. He led me into the drawing-room, and in the + drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, bending over + an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy eyes, + and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... + It was a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to + nervous people. There was no one else in the room. + </p> + <p> + 'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on + the haunch, 'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy + upon: we're at our accounts. My spouse has no great head for + arithmetic, and I, I must own, try to spare my eyes. I can't + read without spectacles, what am I to do? Let the young + people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. But + there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in + catching fleas, he-he!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great + matter if you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was + wearing a very old, almost childish, frock with short + sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a stickler for ceremony, and + I should like just to clear up last week.... You don't + mind?'—he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony + with you, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar + Alexey Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for + business, but a minute for recreation!" We'll devote one + minute only to that same business... ha-ha! What about that + thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in a low + voice, turning his back on me. + </p> + <p> + 'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was + with your leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + 'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. + 'I'm on the spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's + had that seventeen roubles?' + </p> + <p> + 'The upholsterer.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + </p> + <p> + 'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, + and planting a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on + his nose, he began passing his finger along the lines. 'The + upholsterer,.. the upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money + out of doors! Nothing pleases you better!... Wie die Croaten! + A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added aloud, and he turned + round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles off his + nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details + later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that + account-book, and come back to us and enchant our kind + guest's ears with your musical accomplishments, to wit, + playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + </p> + <p> + Susanna turned away her head. + </p> + <p> + 'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a + great pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I + would not for anything in the world be a trouble...' + </p> + <p> + 'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, + eins, zwei, drei!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna made no response, and went out. + </p> + <h3> + XIII + </h3> + <p> + I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly + reappeared. She had not even changed her dress, and sitting + down in a corner, she looked twice intently at me. Whether it + was that she was conscious in my manner to her of the + involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more than + curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or + whether she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any + way, she suddenly went to the piano, and laying her hand + irresolutely on the keys, and turning her head a little over + her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would like her to + play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, + taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. + I loved music from childhood, but at that time I had but + little comprehension of it, and very slight knowledge of the + works of the great masters, and if Mr. Ratsch had not + grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder dieser + Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had + chosen. It was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated + sonata in F minor, opus 57. Susanna's playing impressed me + more than I can say; I had not expected such force, such + fire, such bold execution. At the very first bars of the + intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I + felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, + which instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with + sudden flight upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very + end. I kept, wanting—and not daring—to sigh. I + was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her face; I saw + only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down + on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her + delicate arms and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, + moving. The last notes died away. I sighed at last. Susanna + still sat before the piano. + </p> + <p> + 'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, + listened with attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the + fashion nowadays. Only, why not play correctly? Eh? Put your + finger on two notes at once—what's that for? Eh? To be + sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! Turns it out + hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + </p> + <p> + Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of + her face in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the + downcast eyelid, an unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the + little ear was red under the lock pushed behind it. + </p> + <p> + 'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' + pursued Mr. Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the + late Field they were all—tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein + Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And his own compositions the + finest things! But all those now "tloo-too-too," and + "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for beginners. Da + braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no + matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' + (Ivan Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) + 'But I don't say that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played + well, and oughtn't to be hurt by my remarks.' + </p> + <p> + 'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, + and her lips were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan + Demianitch, you know, cannot hurt me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'—Mr. Ratsch + turned to me—'don't you imagine, my young friend, that + that comes from our excessive good-nature and meekness of + spirit; it's simply that we fancy ourselves so highly exalted + that—oo-oo!—we can't keep our cap on our head, as + the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can + touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + </p> + <p> + I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest + spite, seemed as it were boiling over in every word he + uttered.... And long it must have been rankling! It choked + him. He tried to conclude his tirade with his usual laugh, + and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna did not + let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, + raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, + stared straight at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open + eyes the hatred of long years lay smouldering with dim, + unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + 'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, + with an effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to + suggest that I noticed nothing, 'and so it is not surprising + that you do not agree in your opinions.... But, Ivan + Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... the side of + the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I + must confess nothing in music has ever made such an + impression on me as the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just + played us.' + </p> + <p> + Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + </p> + <p> + 'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from + the fit of coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? + We don't want that at all! Freedom for the free, salvation + for the saved! But as to the two generations, that's right + enough; we old folks find it hard to get on with you young + people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: neither + in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna + Ivanovna?' + </p> + <p> + Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not + agree, and cannot agree,' she responded, and something + menacing seemed to flit over her brows, while her lips were + faintly trembling as before. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a + philosopher! I'm not capable of... rising so superior! I'm a + plain man, swayed by prejudices—oh yes!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna smiled again. + </p> + <p> + 'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able + to place yourself above what are called prejudices.' + </p> + <p> + 'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + </p> + <p> + 'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + </p> + <p> + There followed a brief silence. + </p> + <p> + 'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare + you... such insolence...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and + still holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on + them with her fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She + seemed to challenge him to conflict, to stand up to meet him. + Her face was changed; it became suddenly, in one instant, + extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a sort of + bright, cold brilliance—the brilliance of + steel—gleamed in her lustreless eyes; the lips that had + been quivering were compressed in one straight, mercilessly + stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he gazed blankly, + and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to + say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran + of the year twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake + about that. + </p> + <p> + Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though + calling upon me to witness her victory, and the humiliation + of her foe, and, smiling once more, she walked out of the + room. + </p> + <p> + The veteran remained a little while motionless in his + arm-chair; at last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, + he roused himself, got up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, + laughed his noisy guffaw. + </p> + <p> + 'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've + been living with that young lady, and yet she never can see + when I'm joking, and when I'm in earnest! And you too, my + young friend, are a little puzzled, I do believe.... + Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + </p> + <p> + 'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling + of some alarm and disgust. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he + repeated, stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied + me into the passage. 'I may be a tiresome person, knocked + about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a good-hearted fellow, 'pon my + soul, I am!' + </p> + <p> + I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed + with all speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + </p> + <h3> + XIV + </h3> + <p> + 'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I + returned homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a + wretch of a man, and she's a good girl. But what has there + been between them? What is the reason of this continual + exasperation? What was the meaning of those hints? And how + suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + </p> + <p> + Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to + see Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had + only just been licensed for performance after being first + disfigured by the censors' mutilations. We warmly applauded + Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember what actor took the + part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was + indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a + Hungarian jacket, and boots with tassels, and came on later + in a frockcoat of the colour 'flamme du punch,' then in + fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as suitable as it + would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that we + were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, + probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was + accepted as correct and I believe it is acted in just the + same way to-day. One of the guests hopped excessively high, + while his wig flew from side to side, and the public roared + with laughter. As we were coming out of the theatre, we + jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + </p> + <p> + 'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. + 'How was it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You + must come and have supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the + supper!' + </p> + <p> + Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of + mind. His little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and + there were spots of red on his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + </p> + <p> + 'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little + aside, and pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle + of the red and blue notes then in use waved them in the air. + </p> + <p> + Fustov was surprised. + </p> + <p> + 'Has your governor been so liberal?' + </p> + <p> + Viktor chuckled. + </p> + <p> + 'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on + your intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose + the old skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, + "if you like. Up to twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you + hear, inclusive! No, sir, this was a gift from God in my + destitution. A lucky chance.' + </p> + <p> + 'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + </p> + <p> + Viktor frowned. + </p> + <p> + 'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a + guardsman. He only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a + chain of circumstances! It's worth telling... only this isn't + the place. Come along to Yar's; not a couple of steps. I'll + stand the show, as I said!' + </p> + <p> + We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without + making any objection. + </p> + <h3> + XV + </h3> + <p> + At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was + served, champagne was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting + no detail, how he had in a certain 'gay' house met this + officer of the guards, a very nice chap and of good family, + only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made friends, + how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game + of 'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to + nothing, and with the condition that the officer's winnings + should go to the benefit of Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his + own benefit; how afterwards they had got on to betting on the + games. + </p> + <p> + 'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped + his hands, 'I hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all + the while. Fancy! And at first I was completely cleaned + out.... A nice position! Only then—in answer to whose + prayers I can't say—fortune smiled. The other fellow + began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no + time he'd lost seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began + begging me to go on playing, but I'm not quite a fool, I + fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I popped on my hat + and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie with the + governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another + bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + </p> + <p> + We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and + laughing with him, though his story was by no means to our + liking, nor was his society a source of any great + satisfaction to us either. He began being very affable, + playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more + loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he + was making on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became + more disconnected and his looks gloomier. He began yawning, + announced that he was sleepy, and after swearing with his + characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a badly cleaned + pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging + expression on his distorted face. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you + please, what do you look down on me for?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down + on me, and that person does too' (he pointed at me with his + finger), 'so there! As though you were yourself remarkable + for such high and exalted principles, and weren't just as + much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse even. Still waters... + you know the proverb?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov turned rather red. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly + everything that's going on under my nose.... And I have + nothing against it: first it's not my principle to interfere, + and secondly, my sister Susanna Ivanovna hasn't always been + so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down on me?' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! + You're drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the + wall. 'He's swindled some fool of his money, and now he's + telling all sorts of lies!' + </p> + <p> + Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his + legs, which were hanging over its arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for + with the money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for + lying. It's not my fault that in her past Susanna + Ivanovna...' + </p> + <p> + 'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your + tongue... or...' + </p> + <p> + 'Or what?' + </p> + <p> + 'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge + in flight. He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! + It stings—the truth does, it seems!' + </p> + <p> + 'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his + habitual coolness and self-possession. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + </p> + <p> + 'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted + after us, 'he despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had + difficulty in keeping up with him. All at once he stopped + short and turned sharply back. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you going?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, + God knows what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see + each other to-morrow. Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's + hotel. + </p> + <p> + Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, + on going to his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the + country to his uncle's, near Moscow. I inquired if he had + left no note for me, but no note was forth-coming. Then I + asked the servant whether he knew how long Alexander + Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a + little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate + Fustov's exact address, and sauntered home, meditating + deeply. This unexpected absence from Moscow, in the winter, + completed my utter perplexity. My good aunt observed to me at + dinner that I seemed continually expecting something, and + gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it for + the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'êtes pas + amoureux?' she cried at last, having previously got rid of + her companions. But I reassured her: no, I was not in love. + </p> + <h3> + XVI + </h3> + <p> + Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the + Ratschs'. I fancied that in their house I should be sure to + find a solution of all that absorbed my mind, that I could + not make out.... But I should have had to meet the + veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous + evening—the February wind was howling angrily outside, + the frozen snow tapped at the window from time to time like + coarse sand flung by a mighty hand—I was sitting in my + room, trying to read. My servant came, and, with a mysterious + air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I was + surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a + late hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door + opened and with swift step there walked in a woman, muffled + up in a light summer cloak and a yellow shawl. Abruptly she + cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were covered with + snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so + astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to + the window, and leaning her shoulder against the wall, + remained motionless; only her bosom heaved convulsively and + her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath came with a faint + moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no slight + trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my + youth and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes + the fate of a whole life was being decided—a bitter and + terrible fate. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + </p> + <p> + She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her + voice failed her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her + heavy coils of black hair fell about her face.... The snow + had not melted from off it. + </p> + <p> + 'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, + on the sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to + the window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You + could not expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + </p> + <p> + She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her + eyes with a violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, + devouring sobs, filled the room. I felt a tightness at my + heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had seen Susanna only + twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but I had + regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at + once these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only + weeps like that in the presence of death! + </p> + <p> + I stood like one condemned to death myself. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, + wiping first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. + I've come to you....' She was still sobbing, but without + tears. 'I've come.... You know that Alexander Daviditch has + gone away?' + </p> + <p> + In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she + glanced at me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of + course, you will have pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There + was no other course left her then! + </p> + <p> + I did not know what answer to make.... + </p> + <p> + 'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' + Susanna was saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to + question me; he thought I should not tell him all the truth, + he could think that of me! As though I had ever deceived + him!' + </p> + <p> + She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch + with her nail the patterns of ice that covered the + window-pane. I went hastily into the next room, and sending + my servant away, came back at once and lighted another + candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... I + was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the + window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how + lightly she was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a + broad leather belt, that was all. I went up to her, but she + did not take any notice of me. + </p> + <p> + 'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying + softly from side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me + this last... last blow!' She turned suddenly to me. 'You know + his address?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at + his house. He told me nothing of his intention; I had not + seen him for two days—went to inquire and he had + already left Moscow.' + </p> + <p> + 'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him + then that he has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He + did not talk to you of me, I dare say, but he talked to me + about you. Write... ah, write to him to come back quickly, if + he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find me!...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was + quieter altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful + than the previous sobs. + </p> + <p> + 'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on + her clasped hands. + </p> + <p> + A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp + whistle and a thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the + room.... The candles flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I + begged her to sit on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. + Please.' She huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had + found herself a refuge in the recesses of the window. + 'Please.' + </p> + <p> + 'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your + shoes are soaked.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + A panic seized me. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I + entreat you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? + You will see, every thing will be cleared up, some + misunderstanding... some unlooked-for chance.... You will + see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I will + write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... + Is it possible!' + </p> + <p> + 'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same + subdued voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to + you, to a stranger, if I had not known I should not long be + living? Ah, all my past has been swept away beyond return! + You see, I could not bear to die so, in solitude, in silence, + without saying to some one, "I've lost every thing... and I'm + dying.... Look!"' + </p> + <p> + She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I + forget that head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out + look, those dark, disordered tresses against the pale + window-pane, even the grey, narrow gown, under every fold of + which throbbed such young, passionate life! + </p> + <p> + Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... + You must live!' + </p> + <p> + She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both + her hands. 'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to + suffer, too much! I lived through it.... I hoped... but + now... when even this is shattered... when...' + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into + thought. The tragic line, which I had once noticed about her + lips, came out now still more clearly; it seemed to spread + across her whole face. It seemed as though some relentless + hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for ever on this + lost soul. + </p> + <p> + She was still silent. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with + anything; 'he will come back, I assure you!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna looked at me again. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + </p> + <p> + 'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come + back!' + </p> + <p> + 'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come + back, I cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of + faith....' + </p> + <p> + She clutched at her head. + </p> + <p> + 'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is + it all? What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am + going mad!...' + </p> + <p> + Her eyes came to a rest. + </p> + <p> + 'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to + remind her. + </p> + <p> + She started. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' + She hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little + manuscript book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran + away.... But he believed... he believed him!' + </p> + <p> + I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would + not mention him, would not utter his detested name. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you + suppose that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with + that person?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, + and bragged of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! + Here, here, take it,' she went on, thrusting the manuscript + into my hand, 'read it, send it to him, burn it, throw it + away, do what you like, as you please.... But I can't die + like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must + go.' + </p> + <p> + She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, + what a storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And + your home is not near here. Let me at least go for a + carriage, for a sledge....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me + and taking up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's + sake! or... I can't answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a + dark abyss under my feet.... Don't come near me, don't touch + me!' With feverish haste she put on her cloak, arranged her + shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy people, + for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever + cared for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; + one man loved me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but + death is all about me, death and no escape! Now it is my + turn.... Don't come after me,' she cried shrilly. 'Don't + come! don't come!' + </p> + <p> + I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, + I heard the slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the + window panes shook again under the violent onslaught of the + blast. + </p> + <p> + I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life + in those days: I had had no experience of passion nor of + suffering, and had rarely witnessed any manifestation of + strong feeling in others.... But the sincerity of this + suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it had not been + for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I + had dreamed it all—it was all so unlikely, and swooped + by like a passing storm. I was till midnight reading the + manuscript. It consisted of several sheets of letter-paper, + closely covered with a large, irregular writing, almost + without an erasure. Not a single line was quite straight, and + one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited trembling + of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the + manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + </p> + <h3> + XVII + </h3> + <h4> + MY STORY + </h4> + <p> + I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest + recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the + country house of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, + in a small room on the second storey. With me lived my + mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead painter, who had come + from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an extraordinarily + beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, that + sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at + her, I was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I + would burst into tears and rush to embrace her. I had tutors + come to me; I had music lessons, and was called 'miss.' I + dined at the master's table together with my mother. Mr. + Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately manner; + he always smelt of <i>ambre</i>. I stood in mortal terror of + him, though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy + hand to kiss under its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was + elaborately courteous, but he talked little even with her. He + would say two or three affable words, to which she promptly + made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit looking + about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of + Spanish snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms + of the Empress Catherine on it. + </p> + <p> + My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I + learnt then, from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan + Matveitch Koltovsky was my father, and almost on the same + day, my mother, by his command, was married to Mr. Ratsch, + who was something like a steward to him. I was utterly unable + to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was + bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the + strain, my mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, + mamma,' I asked her, 'that scented bogey' (that was my name + for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my father?' My mother was terribly + scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never speak to any one of + that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a word!'... she + repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her + bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That + prohibition of my mother's I understood.... I understood that + I must be silent, that my mother begged my forgiveness! + </p> + <p> + My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love + my mother, and she did not love him. He married her for + money, and she was obliged to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably + considered that in this way everything had been arranged for + the best, <i>la position était + régularisée</i>. I remember the day before the + marriage my mother and I—both locked in each other's + arms—wept almost the whole morning—bitterly, + bitterly—and silently. It is not strange that she was + silent.... What could she say to me? But that I did not + question her shows that unhappy children learn wisdom sooner + than happy ones... to their cost. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, + and even by degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did + not talk to me... but morning and evening, after flicking the + snuff from his jabot with two fingers, he would with the same + two fingers—always icy cold—pat me on the cheek + and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also + smelling of <i>ambre</i>, which I never ate. At twelve years + old I became his reader—-<i>sa petite lectrice</i>. I + read him French books of the last century, the memoirs of + Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, Helvetius, Voltaire's + correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course without + understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, + he ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien + remarquable!' Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He + had lived in Paris till the Revolution, remembered Marie + Antoinette, and had received an invitation to Trianon to see + her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, according to his + account, wore very large + buttons—<i>exagéré en tout</i>, and was + altogether a man of <i>mauvais ton, en dépit de sa + naissance!</i> Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that + time; but two or three times a year, addressing himself to + the crooked old emigrant whom he had taken into his house, + and called for some unknown reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he + recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, the impromptu he had + once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de Polignac. I + remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a + comparison between the Russians and the French: + </p> + <pre> + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austères + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' +</pre> + <p> + 'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every + time exclaim. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: + his cheeks were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and + immobile, his eyes agreeable and expressive, clear, black + eyes, perfect agate. He was not at all unreasonable, and was + very courteous with every one, even with the servants.... + But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy I + always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his + presence! Ah, I was not to blame for them!... I was not to + blame for what they had made of me.... + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far + from the big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a + cheerless life I led there. She soon gave birth to a son, + Viktor, this same Viktor whom I have every right to think and + to call my enemy. From the time of his birth my mother never + regained her health, which had always been weak. Mr. Ratsch + did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of + good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air + and tried to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he + was cruel and rude. I felt relief when I retired from Ivan + Matveitch's presence; but my own home too I was glad to + leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed from one + shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I + would run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep + snow, in a thin frock—run to the big house to read to + Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be glad to go.... But when I + was there, when I saw those great cheerless rooms, the + bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and + heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the + white jabot and white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over + his fingers, with a <i>soupçon</i> of powder (so his + valet expressed it) on his combed-back hair, I felt choked by + the stifling scent of <i>ambre</i>, and my heart sank. Ivan + Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall + behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, + with a bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a + sumptuous Hebrew costume, and simply covered with precious + stones, with diamonds.... I often stole a glance at this + picture, but only later on I learned that it was the portrait + of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan Matveitch's + request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had he + succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! + Loved that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! + Love him!' And yet, when I recalled some of my mother's + glances, some half-uttered phrases and unconscious + gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated with + horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such + feelings! + </p> + <p> + Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or + four hours together.... So much reading in such a loud voice + was harmful to me. Our doctor was anxious about my lungs and + even once communicated his fears to Ivan Matveitch. But the + old man only smiled—no; he never smiled, but somehow + sharpened and moved forward his lips—and told him: + 'Vous ne savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette + jeunesse.' 'In former years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... + the doctor ventured to observe. Ivan Matveitch smiled as + before. 'Vous rêvez, mon cher,' he interposed: 'le + commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache à chaque + mot. J'aime les voix jeunes.' + </p> + <p> + And I still went on reading, though my cough was very + troublesome in the mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan + Matveitch made me play the piano. But music always had a + soporific influence on his nerves. His eyes closed at once, + his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, 'C'est du + Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan + Matveitch looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had + succeeded in overcoming in himself 'la grossière + lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault with him for + one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When Ivan + Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would + offer me 'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped + by.... + </p> + <p> + And then one night—a night never to be + forgotten!—a terrible calamity fell upon me. My mother + died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. Oh, what a + sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down + upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with + death! My poor mother! Strange were our relations; we + passionately loved each other... passionately and hopelessly; + we both as it were treasured up and hid from each other our + common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, though we + knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even + of the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to + me, and she never complained in words, though her whole being + was nothing but one dumb complaint. We avoided all + conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I kept hoping that the + hour would come, and she would open her heart at last, and I + too should speak out, and both of us would be more at + ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, + shrinking temper, illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and + most of all the eternal question,—what is the use? and + the relentless, unbroken flowing away of time, of life.... + All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the words + which would have loosed us from the burden of our + secret—even the last dying words of + leave-taking—I was not destined to hear from my mother! + All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, + 'Susanna Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you + her blessing!' and then the pale hand stretched out from the + heavy counterpane, the agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... + Oh, enough! enough! + </p> + <p> + With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity + I looked next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the + face of my father... yes, my father! In my dead mother's + writing-case were found his letters. I fancied he looked a + little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was stirring in that + heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to his + room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to + read: 'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur + l'histoire de France de Mably, à la page 74... + là où nous avons ètè + interrompus.' And he had not even had my mother's portrait + moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed call me to him, and + giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he observed: + 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mère vous a privée + de votre appui naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter + sur ma protection,' but with the other hand he gave me at + once a slight push on the shoulder, and, with the sharpening + of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he added, + 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you + know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in + all its glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat + on the new grave. I did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was + filling my brain: 'Do you hear, mother? He means to extend + his protection to me, too!' And it seemed to me that my + mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which it + instinctively called up on my lips. + </p> + <p> + At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to + wring—not a confession... no, indeed! but, at least, + one warm word of kinship from Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know + what he was, and how little he was like all that I pictured + in my dreams as a <i>father</i>!... But I was so lonely, so + alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave + me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him + for something?' + </p> + <p> + Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the + monotonous round of life, marked out and arranged for us. + Viktor was growing into a boy. I was eight years older and + would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. Ratsch opposed my + doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep strict + watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow + me to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One + day Mr. Ratsch came into my room, perturbed, excited, and + angry. On the previous evening unpleasant rumours had reached + me about my stepfather; the servants were talking of his + having been caught embezzling a considerable sum of money, + and taking bribes from a merchant. + </p> + <p> + 'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the + table with his fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan + Matveitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + </p> + <p> + 'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm + accused... well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to + eat, and you, too.' + </p> + <p> + 'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + </p> + <p> + 'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + </p> + <p> + 'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. + Do you mean to tell me you don't understand that?' + </p> + <p> + He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks + simply burning. Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged + in a rush upon me, drowning me. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at + last—my own voice seemed strange to me—'and I am + not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I will not ask him for + anything. Bread, or no bread!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his + fists. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. + 'I won't forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for + him, and, I was told, shook his cane at him, the very cane + which he had once exchanged with the Due de la Rochefoucauld, + and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and extortioner! I put you + outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak Russian at all, + and despised our 'coarse jargon,' <i>ce jargon vulgaire et + rude</i>. Some one once said before him, 'That same's + self-understood.' Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and + often afterwards quoted the phrase as an example of the + senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. 'What does + it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in + Russian, with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply + that's understood, and why same and self?' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did + not even deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept + his word: he never forgot it. + </p> + <p> + I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was + low-spirited, depressed, his health broke down a little. His + fresh, rosy face grew yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front + tooth. He quite ceased going out, and gave up the + reception-days he had established for the peasants, without + the assistance of the priest, <i>sans le concours du + clergé</i>. On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in + the habit of going in to the peasants in the hall or on the + balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, and putting his lips + to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a speech + something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even + as I am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We + are all <i>brothers</i>; at our birth we are equal; I drink + your health!' He bowed to them, and the peasants bowed to + him, but only from the waist, no prostrating themselves to + the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were + entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no + longer showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he + interrupted my reading with exclamations: 'La machine se + détraque! Cela se gâte!' Even his + eyes—those bright, stony eyes—began to grow dim + and, as it were, smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and + breathed hard in his sleep. His manner with me was unchanged; + only a shade of chivalrous deference began to be perceptible + in it. He never failed to get up—though with + difficulty—from his chair when I came in, conducted me + to the door, supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and + instead of Suzon began to call me sometimes, 'ma chère + demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' M. le Commandeur died + two years after my mother's death; his death seemed to affect + Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had + disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later + years M. le Commandeur's sole service had consisted in + crying, 'Bien joué, mal réussi!' every time + Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards with Mr. + Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed + him at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le + Commandeur, c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses + <i>Lettres Persanes</i>?' he had still, sometimes dropping a + spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded profoundly: 'Ah, + Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand écrivain, monsieur, + un grand écrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch + told him that 'les théophilanthropes ont eu pourtant + du bon!' the old man cried in an excited voice, 'Monsieur de + Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the course of twenty + years in learning to pronounce his patron's name correctly), + 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de + cette secte, ce La Reveillère Lepeaux était un + bonnet rouge!' 'Non, non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and + rolling together a pinch of snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes + vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out eu du bon, ils out + eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of Ivan + Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his + knowledge to himself. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a + good face on it. One day, three weeks before his death, he + had a violent attack of giddiness just after dinner. He sank + into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' and pulling himself + together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to Petersburg to his + sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no intercourse for + twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a + neighbour paid him a visit—a German, a + Catholic—once a distinguished physician, who was living + in retirement in his little place in the country. He was very + rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always received + him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect + for him. He was almost the only person in the world he did + respect. The old man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a + priest, but Ivan Matveitch responded that 'ces messieurs et + moi, nous n'avons rien à nous dire,' and begged him to + change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he gave his + valet orders to admit no one in future. + </p> + <p> + Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there + were blue patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and + stiff, his jaw hung down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he + said, with difficulty articulating the consonants, but still + trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous allez + peut-être bientót rester seule. Soyez toujours + sage et vertueuse. C'est la dernière + récommandation d'un'—he coughed—'d'un + vieillard qui vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommandé + à mon frère et je ne doute pas qu'il ne + respecte mes volontés....' He coughed again, and + anxiously felt his chest. 'Du reste, j'esèpre encore + pouvoir faire quelque chose pour vous... dans mon testament.' + This last phrase cut me to the heart, like a knife. Ah, it + was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan + Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling—to a + feeling of grief or gratitude—what was expressed in my + face, and as though wishing to comfort me, he patted me on + the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, gently repelling + me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous + sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. + Ce n'est qu'une précaution que j'ai cru devoir + prendre.... Allez!' + </p> + <p> + Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's + death, I longed to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! + your daughter!' But I thought in those words, in that cry of + the heart, he would doubtless hear nothing but a desire to + assert my rights, my claims on his property, on his money.... + Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to this + man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in + whose eyes I was of so little account that he did not even + trouble himself to ascertain whether I was aware of my + parentage! Or, perhaps, he suspected, even knew it, and did + not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite saying of his, almost + the only Russian expression he ever used), did not care to + deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! + Let him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her + mother! Let him carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I + swore he should not hear from my lips the word which must + have something of a sweet and holy sound in every ear! I + would not say to him father! I would not forgive him for my + mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of + that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt + no need of it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should + not, he should not! + </p> + <p> + God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my + heart would not have softened, whether I should not have + overcome my shyness, my shame, and my pride... but it + happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with my mother. Death + carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was again + Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to + Ivan Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last + dying gestures, which had left such a vivid impression on my + memory at my mother's bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged + pillows lay a sort of withered, dark-coloured doll, with + sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I shrieked with + horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways + against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, + and found myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + </p> + <p> + I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the + bedroom, at a violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan + Matveitch not in the bed, but a few feet from it. And that he + was sitting huddled up on the floor, and that twice over he + repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for you!' + And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe + that. Was it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, + and such a homely old Russian saying too! + </p> + <p> + For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival + of the new master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders + that nothing was to be touched, no one was to be discharged, + till he had looked into everything in person. All the doors, + all the furniture, drawers, tables—all were locked and + sealed up. All the servants were downcast and apprehensive. I + became suddenly one of the most important persons in the + house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as + 'the young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to + take a new significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar + emphasis. It began to be whispered that 'the old master had + died suddenly, and hadn't time to send for a priest, indeed + and he hadn't been at confession for many a long day; but + still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. + He did not affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he + would not impose upon me, but his face wore an expression of + sulky resignation. 'You see, I give in,' he seemed to say. + Every one showed me deference, and tried to please me... + while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could + only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were + hurting me. At last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, + and his whole life had taken a completely different turn. He + was a government official in Petersburg, filling an important + position.... He had married and been left early a widower; he + had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch was like his brother, + only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round bald head, + bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more + prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he + spoke of even after his death as a French philosopher, and + sometimes bluntly as a queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost + invariably talked Russian, loudly and fluently, and he was + constantly laughing, completely closing his eyes as he did so + and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though he were + shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went + into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from + every one. The very first day of his arrival he ordered a + service with holy water, and sprinkled everything with water, + all the rooms in the house, even the lofts and the cellars, + in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel the Voltairean + and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan + Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was + even banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was + inflicted on others; the old valet—he was a Turk, knew + French, and had been given to Ivan Matveitch by the late + field-marshal Kamensky—received his freedom, indeed, + but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, + 'as an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be + a harsh master; many probably regretted the late owner. + </p> + <p> + 'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit + with age, wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see + that the linen put out was clean, and that the rooms smelt + sweet, and that the servants' voices weren't heard in the + passages—God forbid! For the rest, you might do as you + pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! Ah, + it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + </p> + <p> + Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in + the position in which I had been placed for a few days + against my own will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan + Matveitch's papers, not a line written for my benefit. At + once every one seemed in haste to avoid me.... I am not + speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry with + me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived + them. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at + the altar, Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had + seen him by glimpses, and he seemed not to have noticed me. + He received me in his study, standing at the window. He was + wearing an official uniform with two stars. I stood still, + near the door; my heart was beating violently from fear and + from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I + wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, + glancing first at my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. + The look was like a slap in the face. 'I wished to see you to + inform you of my decision, and to assure you of my + unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised + his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my + brother's reader you may always reckon on my... my + consideration. I am... of course convinced of your good sense + and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, your stepfather, has + already received from me the necessary instructions. To which + I must add that your attractive exterior seems to me a pledge + of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went + off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended + exactly... but I suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and + at that moment I fully realised how utterly forsaken and + alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went with short, firm steps to + the table, took a roll of notes out of the drawer, and + putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from me + for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; + but good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the + roll mechanically: I should have taken anything he had + offered me, and going back to my own room, a long while I + wept, sitting on my bed. I did not notice that I had dropped + the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch found it and + picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, kept + it for himself. + </p> + <p> + An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in + those days. After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, + he became a great favourite, and soon after received the + position of head steward. From that time dates his + cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it was an + effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became + a habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. + Semyon Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he + called himself 'a true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the + European dress, which he wore however. He sent away to a + remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan Matveitch had + spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known + how to prepare pickled giblets. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the + responses with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were + brought together to dance and sing choruses, he would join in + their songs too, and beat time with his feet, and pinch their + cheeks.... But he soon went back to Petersburg, leaving my + stepfather practically in complete control of the whole + property. + </p> + <p> + Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, + and I gave myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately + Mr. Ratsch was very fully occupied, but he took every + opportunity to make me feel his hostility; as he had + promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He ill-treated me, + made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon Matveitch, + and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to + obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he + meant to tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you + mean by those mutinous eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, + drinking his beer, and slapping the table with his hand. 'You + think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, so you must be all + right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a sheep too!' + My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was + growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more + frequently to stir within it. I passed nights without sleep + and without a light, thinking, thinking incessantly; and in + the darkness without and the gloom within, a fearful + determination began to shape itself. The arrival of Semyon + Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + </p> + <p> + No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring + in unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the + Alexander ribbon, and they had presented him with a + snuff-box. Discontented with the government, which had failed + to appreciate his talents, and with Petersburg society, which + had shown him little sympathy, and did not share his + indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and + devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived + alone. His son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the + holidays for the New Year. My stepfather was scarcely ever + out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still stood high in his + good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for me + then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start + a paper factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of + manufacturing work, and Semyon Matveitch was aware of the + fact; but then my stepfather was an active man (the favourite + expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That was just what + Semyon Matveitch used to call him—'my Araktcheev!' + 'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there + is zeal, I myself will direct it.' In the midst of his + numerous occupations—he had to superintend the factory, + the estate, the foundation of a counting-house, the drawing + up of counting-house regulations, the creation of new offices + and duties—Semyon Matveitch still had time to attend to + me. + </p> + <p> + I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to + play the piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less + than his brother; he praised and thanked me, however, and + next day I was invited to dine at the master's table. After + dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long conversation with + me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, though + there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at + me so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his + eyes, I did not like their open expression, their clear + glance.... It always seemed to me that this very openness + concealed something evil, that under that clear brilliance it + was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my reader,' + Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and + setting himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank + God, not blind yet, and can read myself; but coffee will + taste better to me from your little hands, and I shall listen + to your playing with pleasure.' From that day I always went + over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in + the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was + in favour: it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon + Matveitch, I am bound to own, showed me a certain respect, + but in the man there was, I felt it, something that repelled + and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed itself not in + words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his + laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and + it seemed to me that he avoided the subject, not because he + did not want to excite ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, + but from another cause, to which I could not give a definite + shape, but which made me blush and feel bewildered.... + Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + </p> + <p> + Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are + too painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... + But what is the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he + loved me. + </p> + <p> + How it came to pass—I am not going to describe that + either. From the very evening when he came into the + drawing-room—I was at the piano, playing a sonata of + Weber's when he came in—handsome and slender, in a + velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he + was, straight from the frost outside, and shaking his + snow-sprinkled, sable cap, before he had greeted his father, + glanced swiftly at me, and wondered—I knew that from + that evening I could never forget him—I could never + forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his + voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, + and in every sound such a true, honest nature! + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced + him, but at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' + and sent me away. + </p> + <p> + I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights + flitting to and fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched + them, I listened to the new, unfamiliar voices; I was + attracted by the cheerful commotion, and something new, + unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next day + before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had + come across to see my stepfather with some message from + Semyon Matveitch, and he found me in our little sitting-room. + I was getting up to go; he detained me. He was very lively + and unconstrained in all his movements and words, but of + superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of Petersburg + superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the + officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very + freedom of his manner there was something appealing, almost + shamefaced, as though he were begging you to overlook + something. Some people's eyes are never laughing, even at the + moment of laughter; with <i>him</i> it was the lips that + almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes + were almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an + hour... what about I don't remember; I remember only that I + looked him straight in the face all the while, and oh, how + delightfully at ease I felt with him! + </p> + <p> + In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of + music, and he sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly + head on his arm, he listened intently. He did not once praise + me, but I felt that he liked my playing, and I played with + ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting near his son, + looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, madam,' + he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as + his manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away + like a canary? It's enough to make one's head ache. For us + old folks you wouldn't exert yourself so, no fear...' he + added in an undertone, and again he sent me away. Michel + followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his + seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried + Semyon Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said + something more... I could not catch his words; but Mr. + Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a corner of the + drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he had + brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my + ears.... The same thing, or almost the same thing, was + repeated the following evening... Semyon Matveitch grew + suddenly cooler to me. + </p> + <p> + Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the + big house in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a + room near the dining-room, which was called the portrait + gallery. I followed him, not without emotion, but with + perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I would have + followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no + suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with + all the passion, all the despair of a young creature who not + only has no one to love, but feels herself an uninvited and + unnecessary guest among strangers, among enemies!... Michel + said to me—and it was strange! I looked boldly, + directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and + flushed slightly—he said to me that he understood my + position, and sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive + his father.... 'As far as I'm concerned,' he added, 'I + beseech you always to trust me, and believe me, to me you 're + a sister—yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand + warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had + somehow expected something else, some other word. I began to + thank him. 'No, please,'—he cut me short—'don't + talk like that.... But remember, it's a brother's duty to + defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, against + any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, + but I have seen a good deal already... and among other + things, I see through your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand + again, and left me. + </p> + <p> + I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. + Ratsch from his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried + to ingratiate himself with him too, but becoming convinced of + the uselessness of his efforts, promptly took up himself an + attitude of hostility to him, and not only did not disguise + it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no + opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his + regret that he had been so unlucky as to displease the young + heir. Mr. Ratsch had carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's + character; his calculations did not lead him astray. 'This + man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the very reason + that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot endure + him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's + head. They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are + readily caught by that bait, the bait of exclusive personal + devotion.... + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his + Araktcheev.... He might well have called him another name + too. 'You're not one to make difficulties,' he used to say to + him. He had begun in this condescendingly familiar tone with + him from the very first, and my stepfather would gaze fondly + at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop deprecatingly on one + side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as though to + say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + </p> + <p> + Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against + the table on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for + me to recall those days, and my blood boils.... But I will + tell everything to the end... to the end! + </p> + <p> + A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me + during my brief period of favour. He began to be deferential + to me, to be respectfully familiar with me, as though I had + grown sensible, and become more on a level with him. 'You've + done with your airs and graces,' he said to me one day, as we + were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite right + too! All those fine principles and delicate + sentiments—moral precepts in fact—are not for us, + young lady, they're not for poor folks.' + </p> + <p> + When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it + necessary to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his + sympathy with me, the latter suddenly redoubled his severity + with me; he was continually following me about, as though I + were capable of any crime, and must be sharply looked after. + 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting without knocking + into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his head; 'I + won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up + airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud + spirit.' + </p> + <p> + And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree + had gone forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear + at the dinner-table for the future without special + invitation.... I don't know how all this would have ended if + it had not been for an event which was the final + turning-point of my destiny.... + </p> + <p> + Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his + head to break in a young horse, which went well for a while, + then began kicking and flung him out of the sledge.... He was + brought home unconscious, with a broken arm and bruises on + his chest. His father was panic-stricken; he sent for the + best doctors from the town. They did a great deal for Michel; + but he had to lie down for a month. He did not play cards, + the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him to + read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended + by Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old + capacity of reader. + </p> + <p> + Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to + Michel directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table + in the half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a + little room out of the drawing-room, at the further end, on a + broad leather sofa in the Empire style, with a gold + bas-relief on its high, straight back. The bas-relief + represented a marriage procession among the ancients. + Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always + moved at once, and his pale face turned towards me: he + smiled, his whole face brightened, he flung back his soft, + damp curls, and said to me softly, 'Good-morning, my kind + sweet girl.' I took up the book—Walter Scott's novels + were at the height of their fame in those days—the + reading of Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection + in my mind.... I could not help my voice thrilling and + quivering as I gave utterance to Rebecca's speeches. I, too, + had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like hers? Was I not, + like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every time I + removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met + his eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. + We talked very little; the door into the drawing-room was + invariably open and some one was always sitting there; but + whenever it was quiet there, I used, I don't know why, to + cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he looked at + me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and + shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other + then without a gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came + together, ran to meet each other, as underground streams flow + together, unseen, unheard... and irresistibly. + </p> + <p> + 'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + </p> + <p> + 'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + </p> + <p> + 'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up + the table.' + </p> + <p> + I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not + dare glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the + room, how freely I had gazed at him! + </p> + <p> + I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + </p> + <p> + 'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an + undertone, also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer + me.' + </p> + <p> + I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, + moved a pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at + him. His head was stretched a little forward; pale all over, + with imploring eyes he signed towards my hand... + </p> + <p> + Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something + instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely + breathing, I took up the knight and moved it right across the + board. Michel bent down swiftly, and catching my fingers with + his lips, and pressing them against the board, he began + noiselessly and passionately kissing them.... I had no power, + I had no wish to draw them back; with my other hand I hid my + face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... oh, + what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, + I knew, with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that + he was who held my hand in his power! I knew that he was not + a boy, carried away by a momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, + not a military Lovelace, but one of the noblest, the best of + men... and he loved me! + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make + you shed other tears than these.' + </p> + <p> + He was wrong... he did. + </p> + <p> + But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... + especially, especially now? + </p> + <p> + Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that + Semyon Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not + conceal it from me. I had no doubt about it myself and I + rejoiced, not that he did not deceive me—he <i>could + not</i> deceive—but that he did not try to delude + himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have + followed where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he + repeated to me. 'I am not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is + not with Lady Rowena.' + </p> + <p> + Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going + to see him, but everything was decided between us. I was + already entirely absorbed in the future; I saw nothing of + what was passing around me, as though I were floating on a + glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. But we + were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I + noticed my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his + loathsome laugh.... But that laugh, those eyes as it were + emerged for an instant from the mist... I shuddered, but + forgot it directly, and surrendered myself again to the + glorious, swift river... + </p> + <p> + On the day before the departure of Michel—we had + planned together that he was to turn back secretly on the way + and fetch me—I received from him through his trusted + valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him at half-past + nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched room, + built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that + he absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had + twice already met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the + key of the outer door. As soon as it struck half-past nine I + threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, stepped quietly out of + the lodge, and made my way successfully over the crackling + snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood + a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind + whistled shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver + passed over me, but I put the key into the lock, went into + the room, closed the door behind me, turned round... A dark + figure became visible against one of the walls, took a couple + of steps forward, stopped... + </p> + <p> + 'Michel,' I whispered. + </p> + <p> + 'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a + voice, which seemed to rend my heart... + </p> + <p> + Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + </p> + <p> + I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite + equal to stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have + to be equal to the consequences.' + </p> + <p> + I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the + door... In vain! Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon + Matveitch held me tight. + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + </p> + <p> + 'I tell you you shan't stir!' + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness + I could not distinguish his face. I had turned away from him + too, but I heard him breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I + felt neither fear nor despair, but a sort of senseless + amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb like that in + the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which + still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious + claw.... + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's + come to this... Ah, wait a bit!' + </p> + <p> + I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I + almost shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and + menace burst upon me... + </p> + <p> + 'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not + control myself... I screamed. + </p> + <p> + That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little + quieter, let go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps + from me, between me and the door. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily + as before. + </p> + <p> + 'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see + that your morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you + are still capable of listening to the voice of reason. + Impulsive folly I can overlook, but stubborn + obstinacy—never! My son...' there was a catch in his + breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? + Hasn't he? Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + </p> + <p> + I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost + flying into fury again. + </p> + <p> + 'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after + a brief pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my + daughter-in-law? A pretty notion! But you're not a child of + four years old, and you must be fully aware that young + boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if only + they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could + you suppose that I—a noble gentleman of ancient family, + Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky—would ever give my consent + to such a marriage? Or did you mean to dispense with the + parental blessing?... Did you mean to run away, get married + in secret, and then come back, go through a nice little + farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old + man will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + </p> + <p> + I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to + speak—that was not in his power. + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down a little. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You + mustn't think... don't imagine... I see one must talk to you + in a different manner. Listen; I understand your position. + You are frightened, upset.... Pull yourself together. At this + moment I must seem to you a monster... a despot. But put + yourself in my position too; how could I help being + indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you + that I am not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember + how I treated you on my arrival here and afterwards till... + till lately... till the illness of Mihail Semyonitch. I don't + wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should have thought + simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the + slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still + patted me lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still + ached from his violence, and was for long after marked with + blue bruises. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a + little headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to + think, we don't care to consider what our advantage consists + in and where we ought to seek it. You ask me: where that + advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... It's, maybe, + close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of the + family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm + a man at the same time, and you know that very well. + Undoubtedly I'm a practical person and of course cannot + tolerate any sentimental nonsense; expectations that are + quite inconsistent with everything, you must of course + dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in + them?—not to speak of the immorality of such a + proceeding.... You will assuredly realise all this yourself, + when you have thought it over a little. And I say, simply and + straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine myself to what I have + done for you. I have always been prepared—and I am + still prepared—to put your welfare on a sound footing, + to guarantee you a secure position, because I know your + value, I do justice to your talents, and your intelligence, + and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch stooped down to me a + little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... though I am + not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I + understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy + matter.' + </p> + <p> + These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe + my ears. For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch + meant to bribe me to break with Michel, to pay me + 'compensation.'... But what was he saying? My eyes had begun + to get used to the darkness and I could make out Semyon + Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was + walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly + before me.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer + please you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not + understand a word. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting + thin laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young + women'—he corrected himself—'young ladies... + young ladies... you all dream of nothing else... you must + have young men! You can't live without love! Of course not. + Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that + it's only young men that can love?... There are some older + men, whose hearts are warmer... and when once an old man does + take a fancy to any one, well—he's simply like a rock! + It's for ever! Not like these beardless, feather-brained + young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! They + can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! + Yes... yes! And as for kissing, old men know all about that + too, he-he-he...' Semyon Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, + please... your little hand... just as a proof... that's + all....' + </p> + <p> + I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him + a blow in the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of + decrepit, scared sound, he almost fell down. There are no + words in human language to express how loathsome and + infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had + left me. + </p> + <p> + 'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get + away, Mr. Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! + I, too, am of your blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I + curse the day and the hour when I was born of that ancient + family!' + </p> + <p> + 'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon + Matveitch, gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very + minute when I've caught you... when you came to meet Misha... + eh? eh? eh?' + </p> + <p> + But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, + desperate was roused up within me. + </p> + <p> + 'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the + insolence, you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be + so blind as not to have seen long ago the loathing you arouse + in me?... You dare use the word offer!... Let me out at once, + this instant!' + </p> + <p> + I moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon + Matveitch piped shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but + obviously not able to make up his mind to come near me.... + 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come here!' + </p> + <p> + The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near + flew wide open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted + candelabrum in each hand. His round, red face, lighted up on + both sides, was beaming with the triumph of satisfied + revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered valuable + service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I + cease to behold them? + </p> + <p> + 'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon + Matveitch, turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing + to me with a shaking hand. 'Be so good as to take her home + and put her under lock and key... so that she... can't stir a + finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! Till further + orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll + answer for her with your head!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made + Semyon Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a + malignant smile, moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, + approaches a mouse who has no chance of escape in that way. + All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the man was + capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! + oh ignominy! I shivered. + </p> + <p> + 'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + </p> + <p> + He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He + saw that I should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed + forward towards the door; at that instant I had but one + thought in my mind, to escape as quickly as possible from the + presence of Semyon Matveitch. + </p> + <p> + But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and + Ratsch stopped me and turned me round face to face with his + patron. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the + brother... of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a + cousin, a first cousin you could marry? You could? eh? Take + her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. 'And remember, keep a + sharp look-out! The slightest communication with + her—and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, + he said nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He + closed the shutters and the doors, and then, as he was + finally returning, he bowed low to me as he had to Semyon + Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, triumphant guffaw! + </p> + <p> + 'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she + didn't catch her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad + idea in its way! It's a lesson for the future: not to keep up + correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How capitally it has all turned out + though!' He went out, and all of a sudden poked his head in + at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? Hey? I kept + my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I + breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... + but they were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched + the silken cord off my dressing-gown, made a noose, and was + putting it on my neck, but I flung the cord aside again at + once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What madness, + really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my + life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel + wretches! No! You have not won your game yet! He will save + me, he will tear me out of this hell, he... my Michel!' + </p> + <p> + But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and + I flung myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and + sobbed.... And only the thought that my tormentor was perhaps + at the door, listening and triumphing, only that thought + forced me to swallow my tears.... + </p> + <p> + I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it + is evening; if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I + shall not be capable of taking up the pen again.... I must + hasten, hasten to the finish! And besides, to dwell on the + hideous things that followed that dreadful day is beyond my + strength! + </p> + <p> + Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an + isolated hut, surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, + and kept shut up for six whole weeks! I was not for one + instant alone.... Later on I learnt that my stepfather had + set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his arrival, + that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's + note. I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene + had taken place the next morning between the son and the + father.... The father had cursed him. Michel for his part had + sworn he would never set foot in his father's house again, + and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed at me by my + stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch announced + that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the + estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an + unpardonable offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear + the brunt of the <i>scandal</i>. Semyon Matveitch recompensed + Mr. Ratsch liberally, however: he gave him the necessary + means to move to Moscow and to establish himself there. + Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought back to the + lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The loss + of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived + 'thanks to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage + against me more than ever. + </p> + <p> + 'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting + with indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got + a little too hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he + made a mess of it; now, of course, his vanity's hurt, there's + no setting the mischief right again now! If you'd only waited + a day or two, it'd all have been right as a trivet; you + wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have + stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but + their wit is short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, + and that pretty young gentleman shall smart for it too!' + </p> + <p> + I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. + Semyon Matveitch I did not once see again. The separation + from his son had been a shock to him too. Whether he felt + remorse or—which is far more likely—wished to + bind me for ever to my home, to my family—my + family!—anyway, he assigned me a pension, which was to + be paid into my stepfather's hands, and to be given to me + till I married.... This humiliating alms, this pension I + still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for + me.... + </p> + <p> + We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor + mother, I would not have remained two days, not two hours, + with my stepfather, after once reaching the town... I would + have gone away, not knowing where... to the police; I would + have flung myself at the feet of the governor-general, of the + senators; I don't know what I would have done, if it had not + happened, at the very moment of our starting from the + country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give + me a letter from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I + read over each line, how many times I covered it with kisses! + Michel besought me not to lose heart, to go on hoping, to + believe in his unchanging love; he swore that he would never + belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he promised + to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, + he asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a + little.... + </p> + <p> + And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not + have agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his + will! That letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my + anchor. Sometimes when my stepfather would begin abusing and + insulting me, I would softly lay my hand on my bosom (I wore + Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and only smile. And the + more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, lighter, + and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at + last, by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was + going out of my mind.... Following on this first letter came + a second, still more full of hope.... It spoke of our meeting + soon. + </p> + <p> + Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can + see Mr. Ratsch coming in—and triumph again, malignant + triumph, in his face—and in his hands a page of the + <i>Invalid</i>, and there the announcement of the death of + the Captain of the Guards—Mihail Koltovsky. + </p> + <p> + What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. + Ratsch's house. He hated me as before—more than + before—he had unmasked his black soul too much before + me, he could not pardon me that. But that was of no + consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my + own fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think + of him! I had no interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel + died with my name on his lips.... I was told so by a servant, + devoted to him, who had been with him when he came into the + country. The same year my stepfather married Eleonora + Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he + secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... + In the event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + </p> + <p> + Two—three—years passed... six years, seven + years.... Life has been passing, ebbing away... while I + merely watched how it was ebbing. As in childhood, on some + river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, and + tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking + through, from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, + and then you abandon all your vain efforts, and you are glad + instead to watch all that you had guarded ebbing away to the + last drop.... + </p> + <p> + So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray + of warmth and light....' + </p> + <p> + The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves + had been torn off, and several lines completing the sentence + had been crossed through and blotted out. + </p> + <h3> + XVIII + </h3> + <p> + The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression + made by Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep + all night, and early in the morning I sent an express + messenger to Fustov with a letter, in which I besought him to + come to Moscow as soon as possible, as his absence might have + the most terrible results. I mentioned also my interview with + Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. After + having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all + day, and pondered all the time on what might be happening at + the Ratsches'. I could not make up my mind to go there + myself. I could not help noticing though that my aunt was in + a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to be burnt every + minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the + traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never + succeed. The visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late + hour, had not been kept secret from her: her imagination at + once pictured a yawning abyss on the edge of which I was + standing, and she was continually sighing and moaning and + murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript + book entitled <i>Extraits de Lecture</i>. In the evening I + found on the little table at my bedside the treatise of De + Girando, laid open at the chapter: On the evil influence of + the passions. This book had been put in my room, at my aunt's + instigation of course, by the elder of her companions, who + was called in the household Amishka, from her resemblance to + a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, not + to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the + following day was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's + coming, of a letter from him, of news from the Ratsches' + house... though on what ground could they have sent to me? + Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit her.... + But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her + without first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression + in my letter to him.... I thought it was strong enough; at + last, late in the evening, he appeared. + </p> + <h3> + XIX + </h3> + <p> + He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate + step. His face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces + of the fatigue of the journey, there was an expression of + astonishment, curiosity, and dissatisfaction—emotions + of which he had little experience as a rule. I rushed up to + him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and + after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed + him the manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very + window in which Susanna had sat two days before, and without + a word to me, he fell to reading it. I at once retired to the + opposite corner of the room, and for appearance' sake took up + a book; but I must own I was stealthily looking over the edge + of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he read rather + calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on + his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not + stir again. His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his + mouth slightly opened. At last he finished the manuscript, + turned it over, looked round, thought a little, and began + reading it all through a second time from beginning to end. + Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved + towards the door; but he turned round and stopped in the + middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to + speak. + </p> + <p> + 'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. + 'I have behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed + that... Viktor—' + </p> + <p> + 'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what + could he say to you?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was + ashamed, I saw that. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor + alluded to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my + head. It's the cause of everything. I began questioning + him.... Well, and he—' + </p> + <p> + 'What did he say?' + </p> + <p> + 'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... + Koltovsky, had allowed Susanna that pension because... on + account of... well, in fact, by way of damages.' + </p> + <p> + I flung up my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'And you believed him?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young + one... In fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + </p> + <p> + 'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, + savagely,' he repeated. + </p> + <p> + We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was + ashamed; but it was easier for me; I was not ashamed of + myself. + </p> + <h3> + XX + </h3> + <p> + 'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued + Fustov, clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm + in fault. I see now what the whole trick was contrived for, + with Susanna's marriage they would lose the pension.... + Wretches!' + </p> + <p> + I took his hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + </p> + <p> + 'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... + early to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + </p> + <p> + 'But you... love her, Alexander?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov seemed offended. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + </p> + <p> + Fustov stamped impatiently. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared + to marry her—she's been baptized—I'm ready to + marry her even now, I'd been thinking of it, though she's + older than I am.' + </p> + <p> + At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure + was seated in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had + burnt down; it was dark in the room. I shivered, looked more + intently, and saw nothing, of course, in the window seat; but + a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, anguish and pity, + came over me. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I + implore you, go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off + till to-morrow! An inner voice tells me that you really ought + to see Susanna to-day!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, + most likely they're all in bed.' + </p> + <p> + 'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a + presentiment.... Please do as I say! Go at once, take a + sledge....' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I + go now? To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything + will be cleared up.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that + you would not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only + think, imagine, to make up her mind to come to me... what it + must have cost her....' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had + apparently regained his self-possession completely. 'All + girls are like that... at first. I repeat, everything will be + all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, good-bye. I'm tired, and + you're sleepy too.' + </p> + <p> + He took his cap, and went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about + it?' I called after him. + </p> + <p> + 'I promise.... Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed + with my friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was + wandering with Susanna along underground, damp passages of + some sort, and crawling along narrow, steep staircases, and + continually going deeper and deeper down, though we were + trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was all + the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive + tones. + </p> + <h3> + XXI + </h3> + <p> + Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several + times.... I opened my eyes and in the faint light of the + solitary candle, I saw Fustov standing before me. He + frightened me. He was staggering; his face was yellow, almost + the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging down, + his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become + of his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a + cousin who from epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov + looked like him at that moment. + </p> + <p> + I sat up hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + </p> + <p> + He made no answer. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + </p> + <p> + Fustov gave a slight start. + </p> + <p> + 'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + </p> + <p> + 'What of her? Have you seen her?' + </p> + <p> + He stared at me. + </p> + <p> + 'She's no more.' + </p> + <p> + 'No more?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. She is dead.' + </p> + <p> + I jumped out of bed. + </p> + <p> + 'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov turned his eyes away again. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + </p> + <p> + 'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + </p> + <p> + They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + I seized him by the hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I + came straight to you.' + </p> + <p> + My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising + an irrevocable misfortune. + </p> + <p> + 'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So + suddenly! Or perhaps she took her own life?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me + she died at midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + </p> + <p> + 'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive + yesterday when I fancied I saw her in the window, when I + entreated him to hasten to her....' + </p> + <p> + 'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to + Ivan Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my + thought. + </p> + <p> + 'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we + both knew her! "High-flown," said he, "all girls are like + that."... And at that very minute, perhaps, she was putting + to her lips... Can one love any one and be so grossly + mistaken in them?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, + like a guilty man. + </p> + <h3> + XXII + </h3> + <p> + I dressed hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the + absurdity of my question. And indeed what was there to do? + </p> + <p> + 'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound + to ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime + concealed. One may expect anything of those people.... It is + all to be thoroughly investigated. Remember the statement in + her manuscript, the pension was to cease on her marriage, but + in event of her death it was to pass to Ratsch. In any case, + one must render her the last duty, pay homage to her + remains!' + </p> + <p> + I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. + In the midst of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort + of unconscious feeling of superiority over Fustov had + suddenly come to the surface in me.... Whether from seeing + him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, distracted, + shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost + always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, + 'you can't be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come + off better than that!' God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to + me almost like a child, and I felt pity for him, and saw the + necessity of severity. I held out a helping hand to him, + stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is + free from condescension. + </p> + <p> + But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at + me—my authoritative tone obviously had no effect on + him, and to my second question, 'You're going to them, I + suppose?' he replied— + </p> + <p> + 'No, I'm not going.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for + yourself, to investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has + left a letter... a document of some sort....' + </p> + <p> + Fustov shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, + to ask you to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + </p> + <p> + Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both + hands, and sobbed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + 'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, + poor girl... poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + </p> + <p> + I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the + slightest sympathy was excited in me by those incontestably + sincere sobs. I simply marvelled that Fustov could cry + <i>like that</i>, and it seemed to me that <i>now</i> I knew + what a small person he was, and that I should, in his place, + have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If + Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have + hated him, have conceived an aversion for him, but he would + not have sunk in my esteem.... He would have kept his + prestige. Don Juan would have remained Don Juan! Very late in + life, and only after many experiences, does a man learn, at + the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to + sympathise with him, and help him without a secret + self-congratulation at his own virtue and strength, but on + the contrary, with every humility and comprehension of the + naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + </p> + <h3> + XXIII + </h3> + <p> + I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the + Ratsches'; but when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock + (nothing would induce Fustov to go with me, he only begged me + to give him an exact account of everything), when round the + corner of the street their house glared at me in the distance + with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one of the + windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I + would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, + and went into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the + pink cover of the coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a + corner, leaning against the wall. In one of the adjoining + rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous muttering of the + deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the + drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, + who murmured in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the + dead?' She indicated the door of the dining-room. I went in. + The coffin stood with the head towards the door; the black + hair of Susanna under the white wreath, above the raised lace + of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up sidewards, + crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful + God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no + pity on her, had denied her—beauty, that would be + little—even that peace, that tender and impressive + peace which is often seen on the faces of the newly dead. The + little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the + visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that + face! It looked as though she were on the point of + shrieking—a shriek of despair—and had died so, + uttering no sound... even the line between the brows was not + smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back and + clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a + brief interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and + attentively at her. Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. + 'That girl died by violence,' I decided inwardly; 'that's + beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at the dead girl, + the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and + uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning + again, and yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, + and went out into the passage. + </p> + <p> + In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on + the look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. + Beckoning to me with his hand, he led me to his own + room—I had almost said, to his lair. The room, dark and + close, soaked through and through with the sour smell of + stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf + or a fox. + </p> + <h3> + XXIV + </h3> + <p> + 'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external + covering.... You understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' + said Mr. Ratsch, directly the door closed. 'Such a + misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was nothing to + notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! + It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; + it's what was to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov + the regimental doctor, Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... + you've probably heard of him... a first-rate medical man, a + specialist—' + </p> + <p> + 'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, + at first in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to + my surprise, with a perceptible German accent, 'he was always + warning me: "Ay, Ivan Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must + be careful! Your stepdaughter has an organic defect in the + heart—hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing and + there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions + above all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my + word, with a young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... + ha... ha...' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, + but he recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient + guffaw into a cough. + </p> + <p> + And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found + out about him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him + whether a doctor was called in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was + already over—abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though + they were agreeing' (Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though + they had agreed), 'rupture! rupture of the heart! That's + what, with one voice, they cried out. They proposed a + post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to + that.' + </p> + <p> + 'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The + procession will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock + in the morning.... From here to the church of St. Nicholas on + Hen's Legs... what strange names your Russian churches do + have, you know! Then to the last resting-place in mother + earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I + make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the + elevation of your sentiments!...' + </p> + <p> + I made haste to nod my head. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has + been, as they say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz + aus heiterem Himmel!' + </p> + <p> + 'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left + nothing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of + paper! Only fancy, when they called me to her, when they + waked me up—she was stiff already! Very distressing it + was for me; she has grieved us all terribly! Alexander + Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he knows.... + They say he is not in Moscow.' + </p> + <p> + 'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + </p> + <p> + 'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his + sledge harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming + in—the same girl I had seen in the passage. Her face, + still looking half-awake, struck me this time by the + expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when + they know that their masters are in their power, and that + they do not dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + </p> + <p> + 'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. + 'Eleonora Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other + side of the door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's + imperious call: 'Why on earth don't they put the horses in? + You don't catch me trudging off to the police on foot!' + </p> + <p> + 'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. + 'Eleonora Karpovna, come here!' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine + Toilette gemacht!' + </p> + <p> + 'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck + with two fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned + up, and had not yet done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to + her. + </p> + <p> + 'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, + hurriedly pointing his finger first to the door, then to the + window. 'Please, do see to it, as quick as possible! Der Kerl + schreit so!' + </p> + <p> + 'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' + responded Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the + coachman myself, but he's taken it into his head to give the + horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity to happen so suddenly,' + she added, turning to me; 'who could have expected such a + thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + </p> + <p> + 'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw + up his arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did + so, and displaying most repulsive unmentionables of chamois + leather, with buckles on the belt. 'Rupture of the heart! + rupture of the external membrane! Hypertrophy!' + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... + Well, so it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I + say again...' And her coarse-featured face worked a little, + her eyebrows rose into the shape of triangles, and a tiny + tear rolled over her round cheek, that looked varnished like + a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young person who + ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... + And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + </p> + <p> + 'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + </p> + <p> + 'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she + went away, still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and + shedding tears. + </p> + <p> + And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a + student's coat with a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily + on one side. He barely glanced at me over his shoulder, shook + his collar up, and did not nod to me, for which I mentally + thanked him. + </p> + <p> + I went back to Fustov. + </p> + <h3> + XXV + </h3> + <p> + I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with + downcast head and arms folded across his breast. He had sunk + into a state of numbness, and he gazed around him with the + slow, bewildered look of a man who has slept very heavily and + has only just been waked. I told him all about my visit to + Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his + wife, described the impression they had made on me and + informed him of my conviction that the unhappy girl had taken + her own life.... Fustov listened to me with no change of + expression, and looked about him with the same bewildered + air. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the coffin?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + </p> + <p> + 'In the coffin.' + </p> + <p> + Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly + rubbed his hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you cold?' I asked him. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he + shook his head stupidly. + </p> + <p> + I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had + poisoned herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the + matter could not be left so.... + </p> + <p> + Fustov stared at me. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his + eyes wide and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if + it's known about. They won't bury her. We must let things... + alone.' + </p> + <p> + This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My + friend's practical sense had not deserted him. + </p> + <p> + 'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + </p> + <p> + 'To-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'Are you going?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'To the house or straight to the church?' + </p> + <p> + 'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the + cemetery.' + </p> + <p> + 'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and + began crying. It was at these same words that he had broken + into sobs in the morning. I have noticed that it is often so + with weeping; as though to certain words, for the most of no + great meaning,—but just to these words and to no + others—it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, + to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity + for others and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once + describing before me the sudden death of her daughter, and + she fairly dissolved and could not go on with her tale as + soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, Fekla. And + she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... + sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + </p> + <p> + But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by + Fustov's tears. I could not conceive how it was he did not + ask me if Susanna had not left something for him. Altogether + their love for one another was a riddle to me; and a riddle + it remained to me. + </p> + <p> + After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the + sofa, turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I + waited a little, but seeing that he did not stir, and made no + answer to my questions, I made up my mind to leave him. I am + perhaps doing him injustice, but I almost believe he was + asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that he did not + feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be + unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was + too awfully well-balanced! + </p> + <h3> + XXVI + </h3> + <p> + The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. + Fine hail was falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a + slight frost, a thaw was close at hand, but there were + cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind flitting across in the + air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, cold-catching + weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In a + black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, + he fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, + shouted up to the house, and then down into the street, in + the direction of the funeral car with a white catafalque, + already standing there with two hired carriages. Near it four + garrison soldiers, with mourning capes over their old coats, + and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up eyes, were + pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long + stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair + positively stood up straight above the red face of Mr. + Ratsch, and his voice, that brazen voice, was cracking from + the strain he was putting on it. 'Where are the pine + branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' he + yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The + pine! Hand over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried + once more, and dashed into the house. It appeared that in + spite of my punctuality, I was late: Mr. Ratsch had thought + fit to hurry things forward. The service in the house was + already over; the priests—of whom one wore a calotte, + and the other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and + oiled his hair—appeared with all their retinue on the + steps. The coffin too appeared soon after, carried by a + coachman, two door-keepers, and a water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch + walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on the coffin + lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled + Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, + surrounded by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor + stepped out in a new uniform with a sword with crape round + the handle. The coffin-bearers, grumbling and altercating + among themselves, laid the coffin on the hearse; the garrison + soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began crackling + and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to + the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the + fine snow suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white + flies.' Mr. Ratsch bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the + procession started. Besides Mr. Ratsch's family, there were + in all five men accompanying the hearse: a retired and + extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded + Stanislas ribbon—not improbably hired—on his + neck; the police superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man + with a meek face and greedy eyes; a little old man in a + fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger in a tradesman's + bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. The + absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such + two aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, + and a hunchback old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her + blue nose), the absence of girl friends and acquaintances + struck me at first; but on thinking it over I realised that + Susanna, with her character, her education, her memories, + could not have made friends in the circle in which she was + living. In the church there were a good many people + assembled, more outsiders than acquaintances, as one could + see by the expression of their faces. The service did not + last long. What surprised me was that Mr. Ratsch crossed + himself with great fervour, quite as though he were of the + orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the + responses, though only with the notes not with the words. + When at last it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed + low, but did not give the last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the + contrary, went through this terrible ordeal with the utmost + composure, and with a deferential inclination of his person + invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as + though offering him entertainment, and picking his children + up under the arms swung them up in turn and held them up to + the body. Eleonora Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, + suddenly broke into a roar that filled the church; but she + was soon soothed and continually asked in an exasperated + whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself + aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to + convey that he was out of sympathy with all such customs and + was only performing a social duty. The person who showed the + most sympathy was the little old man in the smock, who had + been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in the Tambov + province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know + Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits + at the sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to + the church. She had somehow or other found out that the + deceased woman was the very lady who had paid me a visit, and + had been thrown into a state of indescribable agitation! She + could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of + misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange + chain of circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that + Susanna had been led by love for me to commit suicide, and + attired in her darkest garments, with an aching heart and + tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of the soul of + the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of + the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her + too, and she too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at + me, horror-stricken.... That elderly spinster, alas! did not + regard me with indifference. On leaving the church, my aunt + distributed all her money, more than ten roubles, among the + poor. + </p> + <p> + At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. + During the whole service I had not courage to look straight + at the poor girl's distorted face; but every time that my + eyes passed by it—'he did not come, he did not come,' + it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were just going + to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain + myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why + did you do it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not + come!' I fancied for the last time.... The hammer was + knocking in the nails, and all was over. + </p> + <h3> + XXVII + </h3> + <p> + We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in + number, of all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than + an idle crowd. The wearisome journey lasted more than an + hour. The weather became worse and worse. Halfway there + Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped gallantly + on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped + through the snow when, after the fateful interview with + Semyon Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl + whose life he had ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and + eyebrows were edged with snow; he kept blowing and uttering + exclamations, or manfully drawing deep breaths and puffing + out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might have + thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass + to Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript + recurred again to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; + we moved up to a freshly dug grave. The last ceremony was + quickly performed; all were chilled through, all were in + haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning hole; they + began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the + energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, + did he fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing + himself into an heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly + before him... he could not have shown more energy if he had + been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as before, held + himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and + rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other + children eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and + earth was a source of great enjoyment to them, for which, of + course, they were in no way to blame. A mound began to rise + up where the hole had been; we were on the point of + separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in + soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, + announced to all of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited + us, and also the 'reverend clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' + which had been arranged at no great distance from the + cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior + restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured + friend Sigismund Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he + indicated the assistant of the police superintendent, and + added that for all his grief and his Lutheran faith, he, Ivan + Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old Russian + usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the + ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we + gentlemen commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy + departed servant!' Mr. Ratsch's proposal was received with + genuine sympathy; 'the reverend clergy' exchanged expressive + glances with one another, while the officer of roads and + highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and called + him a patriot and the soul of the company. + </p> + <p> + We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, + in the middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the + first storey, stood two tables laid for dinner, covered with + bottles and eatables, and surrounded by chairs. The smell of + whitewash, mingled with the odours of spirits and salad oil, + was stifling and oppressive. The police superintendent's + assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the clergy + in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were + crowded together conspicuously; after the priests the other + guests took their seats; the banquet began. I would not have + used such a festive word as banquet by choice, but no other + word would have corresponded with the real character of the + thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, even + slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were + emptied, but sighs too were audible—possibly sighs of + digestion, but possibly also of feeling. There were + references to death, allusions to the brevity of human life, + and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The officer of + roads and highways related a military but still edifying + anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, + and himself contributed an interesting fact from the life of + the saint, Ivan the Warrior. The priest with the superbly + arranged hair, though his attention was chiefly engrossed by + the edibles, gave utterance to something improving on the + subject of chastity. But little by little all this changed. + Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter + reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected + exclamations, caressing appellations, after the manner of + 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a + pig like that'—everything, in fact, of which the + Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes + unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made + champagne were popping, the party had become noisy; some one + even crowed like a cock, while another guest was offering to + bite up and swallow the glass out of which he had just been + drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, suddenly rose + from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great noise + before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out + with it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even + bawled 'bravo!' and clapped his hands... but he was already + sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch lifted his glass high above + his head, and announced that he proposed in brief but + 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the + noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk + (die irdische Hülle) has soared to heaven, and + plunged...' Mr. Ratsch corrected himself: 'and plashed....' + He again corrected himself: 'and plunged...' + </p> + <p> + 'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a + subdued but insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish + good voice; honour us with a song, strike up: "We live among + the fields!"' + </p> + <p> + 'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the + guests. + </p> + <p> + ...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, + turning a severe glance in the direction of the lover of + music, 'plunged all her family into the most irreplaceable + grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, 'well may the Russian + proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + </p> + <p> + 'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the + table, 'my purse has just been stolen!...' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box + on the ear. + </p> + <p> + Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, + till then only growling and faintly stirring within us, had + suddenly broken from its chains and reared up, ruffled and + fierce in all its hideousness. It seemed as though every one + had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as the natural + outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed + to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered + and rolled about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, + hands were waving in the air, coat-tails were flying, and a + fight began in earnest. + </p> + <p> + 'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the + fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most + peaceable person in the world; it is true he had been + silently drinking some dozen glasses of spirits. 'Thrash + him!...' + </p> + <p> + Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, + he had no idea, but he bellowed furiously. + </p> + <p> + The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads + and highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected + such a speedy termination to his eloquence, tried to restore + order... but their efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the + fishmonger, even fell foul of Mr. Ratsch himself. + </p> + <p> + 'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he + yelled at him, shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the + police, and here he's crowing over it!!' + </p> + <p> + At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I + don't know; I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off + as fast as my legs would carry me! All I remember is a + fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains of a herring in the + hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat flying right + across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a + corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... + Such were the last impressions I carried away of the + 'memorial banquet,' arranged by the excellent Sigismund + Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + </p> + <p> + After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him + all of which I had been a witness during that day. He + listened to me, sitting still, and not raising his head, and + putting both hands under his legs, he murmured again, 'Ah! my + poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down on the sofa and + turned his back on me. + </p> + <p> + A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up + his life as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a + keepsake: he gave it me without raising any objection. + </p> + <h3> + XXVIII + </h3> + <p> + Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow + and settled in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to + Petersburg. He had entered the department of the Ministry of + Finance, but we rarely met and I saw nothing much in him + then. An official like every one else, and nothing more! If + he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, + unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses + dumb-bells, and is as much a lady-killer as ever, and + sketches Napoleon in a blue uniform in the albums of his lady + friends. It happened that I had to go to Moscow on business. + In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, that the + fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an + adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, + two boys, whom as a true Russian he had christened + Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but his house had been burnt + down, he had been forced to retire from his position, and + worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become practically + a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in + Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to + hear an allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most + insulting allusion! I did all I could to defend the memory of + the unhappy girl, to whom fate had denied even the charity of + oblivion, but my arguments did not make much impression on my + audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, however, a + little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I + have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + </p> + <pre> + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' +</pre> + <p> + I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. + Susanna's image rose before me; once more I seemed to see the + frozen window in my room; I recalled that evening and the + blustering snowstorm, and those words, those sobs.... I began + to ponder how it was possible to explain Susanna's love for + Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively given way + to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it + she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter + truth from the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, + even? How could she fling herself at once headlong into the + abyss? Because she was passionately in love with Fustov, I + shall be told; because she could not bear the slightest doubt + of his devotion, of his respect for her. Perhaps; or perhaps + because she was not at all so passionately in love with + Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but + simply rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over + the thought that even this man had at once, at the first + breath of slander, turned away from her with contempt! Who + can say what killed her; wounded pride, or the wretchedness + of her helpless position, or the very memory of that first, + noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully + pledged herself in the morning of her early days, who had so + deeply trusted her, and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps + at the very instant when I fancied that her dead lips were + murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul was rejoicing that she + had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The secrets of human + life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable of + those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of + Susanna rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity + for her, and of angry reproach against fate, and my lips + whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy girl! unhappy girl!' + </p> + <p> + 1868. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="3"></a> + <h2> + THE DUELLIST + </h2> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the + village of Kirilovo, in the K—- province. That village, + with its huts and hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and + gaunt willows, looked from a distance like an island in a + boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth fields. In the middle + of the village was a small pond, invariably covered with + goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces + from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden + manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one + side. Behind the house stretched the deserted garden; in the + garden grew old apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall + birch-trees, full of rooks' nests. At the end of the + principal garden-walk, in a little house, once the + bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, + gasping and groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag + himself across the garden to the seignorial apartments, + though there was nothing to take care of in them except a + dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two podgy + chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with + holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken + nose. The owner of the house, a careless young man, lived + partly at Petersburg, partly abroad, and had completely + forgotten his estate. It had come to him eight years before, + from a very old uncle, once noted all over the countryside + for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles are + to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with + rubbish of all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured + covers, scantily filled with writing, old-fashioned glass + lustres, a nobleman's uniform of the Catherine period, a + rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. In one of the + lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his + abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim + and sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, + an emotional person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, + fond of flowers and female society. The social life of the + officers of this regiment did not differ from any other kind + of society. Among their number were good people and bad, + clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch + Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. + Lutchkov was a short and not thick-set man; he had a small, + yellowish, dry face, lank, black hair, unnoticeable features, + and dark, little eyes. He had early been left an orphan, and + had grown up among privations and hardships. For weeks + together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at + once—as though he were possessed by some devil—he + would let no one alone, annoying everybody, staring every one + insolently in the face; trying, in fact, to pick a quarrel. + Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof from + intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate + terms with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play + cards, and did not drink spirits. + </p> + <p> + In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the + manoeuvres, there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor + Fedorovitch Kister, a Russian nobleman of German extraction, + very fair-haired and very modest, cultivated and well read. + He had lived up to his twentieth year in the home of his + fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and + his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely + to the wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age + could not see a white plumed helmet without emotion.... He + served with no special enthusiasm but with energy, as it were + conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a dandy, but was + always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of his + arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior + officers, and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had + brought with him some cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so + forth. He papered all the walls and the doors, put up some + screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a stable, and a + kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole + week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards + to go into his room. Before the window stood a neat table, + covered with various little things; in one corner was a set + of shelves for books, with busts of Schiller and Goethe; on + the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and guns; near the + table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; + there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and + locked; the windows were hung with curtains. Everything in + Fyodor Fedoritch's room had a look of cleanliness and order. + </p> + <p> + It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. + Often one could scarcely make one's way across the muddy + yard; in the outer room, behind a canvas screen, with its + covering peeling off it, would lie stretched the snoring + orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, boots and a + broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped + card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, + half-full of cold, dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, + rickety, greasy sofa; on the window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In + a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would find the master of the + place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson plush + facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, + and a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass + collar would be snoring at his side.... All the doors always + ajar.... + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new + comrades. They liked him for his good-nature, modesty, + warm-heartedness, and natural inclination for everything + beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in another officer + they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They + called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their + manners with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed + him dubiously. One day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, + slightly pursing up his lips and inflating his nostrils: + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + </p> + <p> + 'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'My name's Kister, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. + Lutchkov looked after him with a grin. + </p> + <p> + Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey + Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant + glee. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + </p> + <p> + 'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid + and ill-bred—do you hear?—stupid and ill-bred.' + </p> + <p> + 'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + </p> + <p> + 'When you like,... to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister + slightly, and to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went + up to the wounded man, took him by the hand and begged his + pardon. Kister had to keep indoors for a fortnight. Avdey + Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him and on Fyodor + Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was + pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling + akin to remorse was roused in his soul—it's hard to + say... but from the time of his duel with Kister, Avdey + Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and called him first + Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he + became quite another man and—strange to say!—the + change was not in his favour. It did not suit him to be + gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not call forth in any one + anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that class of + persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of + authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts + essential for the justification of such a privilege. Having + received no education, not being distinguished by + intelligence, he ought not to have revealed himself; possibly + his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of the + defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself + altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at + first forced himself to despise people, then he began to + notice that it was not a difficult matter to intimidate them, + and he began to despise them in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed + cutting short by his very approach all but the most vulgar + conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, and + I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall + know nothing and not show off your talents before me....' + Kister, perhaps, had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had + taken up—just because before his acquaintance with him, + the bully had never met any one genuinely idealistic, that is + to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in dreams, + and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe + and quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in + Kister's company abashed by his own ignorance; he + relied—and with good reason—on his German + modesty. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been + reading, I'll bet, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I read....' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell + away.' Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the + end. + </p> + <p> + 'I read Kleist's <i>Idyll</i>. Ah, what a fine thing it is! + If you don't mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And + Kister translated with fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up + his forehead and compressing his lips, listened + attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, with a + disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, + I've read it... very fine.' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were + reluctantly, 'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + </p> + <p> + And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the + Fourteenth, while Lutchkov listened, totally failing to + understand a great deal, misunderstanding a part... and at + last venturing to make a remark.... This threw him into a + cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' he + thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. + But Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the + good-hearted youth was inwardly rejoicing that, as he + thought, the desire for enlightenment was awakened in a + fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for + enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God + knows why he did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself + what sort of head he, Lutchkov, had, whether it was really + dull, or simply untrained. 'So I really am stupid,' he said + to himself more than once with a bitter smile; and he would + draw himself up instantly and look rudely and insolently + about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some + comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my + man, you're so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter + between his teeth. 'I'll show you... that's all....' + </p> + <p> + The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of + Kister and Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer + ways. 'The devil's made friends with the baby,' they said.... + Kister was warm in his praises of his friend on all hands; no + one disputed his opinion, because they were afraid of + Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name + before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the + perfumed adjutant. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving + balls, inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off + their daughters. + </p> + <p> + About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just + such a country gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four + hundred souls, and a fairly spacious house. He had a daughter + of eighteen, Mashenka, and a wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. + Perekatov had once been an officer in the cavalry, but from + love of a country life and from indolence he had retired and + had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of the + middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence + in a not perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished + gentleman of Moscow. + </p> + <p> + Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, + as it is called, in his own house, but got her off his hands + rather hurriedly, at the first offer, as a not very + marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was ugly; the + distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten + thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To + Mr. Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a + highly educated, intellectual young lady... who was, after + all, so closely related to so illustrious a personage. This + illustrious personage extended his patronage to the young + people even after the marriage, that is to say, he accepted + presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my + dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna + took complete possession of her husband, managed everything, + and looked after the whole property—very sensibly, + indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. Perekatov could have + done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too much; but + she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and + dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper + for a country gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov + grew a little Napoleonic beard on his chin, to cover a large + wart, which looked like an over-ripe raspberry. Nenila + Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that her + husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always + let the beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their + instrument more comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in + the early morning, wore a high, clean stock, and was well + combed and washed. He was, moreover, well content with his + lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and slept all he + could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household + 'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few + servants, and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by + ambition; she wanted at least to be the wife of the marshal + of the nobility of the district; but the gentry of the + district, though they dined at her house to their hearts' + content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired + premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major + Burundukov. Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a + product of the capital. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her + father. Nenila Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with + her education. She spoke French well, and played the piano + fairly. She was of medium height, rather plump and white; her + rather full face was lighted up by a kindly and merry smile; + her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her + pleasant voice—everything about her was gently + pleasing, and that was all. On the other hand the absence of + all affectation and conventionality, an amount of culture + exceptional in a country girl, the freedom of her + expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks + could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her + own free will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in + restraint. + </p> + <p> + One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the + Perekatovs were in the drawing-room. The husband in a round + green coat, a high check cravat, and pea-green trousers with + straps, was standing at the window, very busily engaged in + catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her embroidery + frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and + gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on + the sofa, gazing in silence at the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, + Sergei Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + </p> + <p> + 'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chère.' (He + was under the strictest orders not to call her 'little + mother.') 'To be sure!' + </p> + <p> + 'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila + Makarievna. 'Nobody for the girls to dance with.' + </p> + <p> + Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of + partners. + </p> + <p> + 'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov + asked?' + </p> + <p> + 'What Lutchkov?' + </p> + <p> + 'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting + person.' + </p> + <p> + 'How's that?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every + one's afraid of him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma + frowned a little.) 'I should so like to see him.' + </p> + <p> + Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + </p> + <p> + 'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he + must look like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just + beginning to talk about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I + declare, my dear, there was a time when I had a terrible + character as a fighting man.' + </p> + <p> + Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped + up and kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, + too... but Sergei Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila + Makarievna. 'Possibly he may come too.' + </p> + <p> + The daughter sighed. + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked + Sergei Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that + nowadays—so—what shall I say?—romantic...' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' Masha responded simply. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei + Sergeitch played with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, + then took his wide-brimmed, English hat from the table, and + set off to see after things on the estate. + </p> + <p> + His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent + animal, she was well aware that her master was not a person + of very great authority in the house, and behaved herself + accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her + head, and looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell + me when you fall in love?' she asked. + </p> + <p> + Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head + several times in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her + cheek, and she went out after her husband. Masha leaned back + in her chair, dropped her head on her bosom, interlaced her + fingers, and looked long out of window, screwing up her + eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh cheeks; with a + sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but + dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting + the tips of her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at + her own shoulder, at her outstretched hand, got up, went to + the window, laughed, put on her hat and went out into the + garden. + </p> + <p> + That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. + Madame Perekatov with great affability received and + 'entertained' the ladies, Mashenka the girls; Sergei + Sergeitch talked about the crops with the gentlemen and + continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived the + young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at + last the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, + Kister and Lutchkov. He presented them to the lady of the + house. Lutchkov bowed without speaking, Kister muttered the + customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. Perekatov went up to + the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him in the + face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked + forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a + dance. At that time the <i>Ecossaise</i> was still + flourishing. + </p> + <p> + 'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after + galloping twenty times to the end of the room, they stood at + last, the first couple, 'why isn't your friend dancing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Which friend?' + </p> + <p> + Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'He never dances,' answered Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Why did he come then?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the + pleasure...' + </p> + <p> + Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred + into our regiment, I think?' + </p> + <p> + 'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not + long.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aren't you dull here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the + scenery!'... Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. + Masha listened to him, without raising her head. Avdey + Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, looking indifferently at + the dancers. + </p> + <p> + 'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added + hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + </p> + <p> + 'They say every one's afraid of him.' + </p> + <p> + Kister laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'And you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm a friend of his.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. + They started and began galloping again right across the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up + to him after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does + nothing but ask questions about you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + </p> + <p> + 'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; + only look at her.' + </p> + <p> + 'Which of them is she?' + </p> + <p> + Kister pointed out Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + </p> + <p> + 'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask + another girl to dance. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister + had mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned + loudly. To arouse curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: + love he despised—in words—but inwardly he was + himself aware that it would be a hard and difficult task for + him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him to win + love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of + indifference, of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was + unattractive and no longer young; but on the other hand he + enjoyed a terrible reputation—and consequently he had + every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, unspoken + enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he + had attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to + get upon more friendly terms with him, but he repelled their + advances with exasperated obstinacy; he knew that sentiment + was not in his line (during tender interviews, avowals, he + first became awkward and vulgar, and, through anger, rude to + the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that the + two or three women with whom he had at different times been + on a friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the + first moment of closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse + made haste to get away from him... and so he had at last + schooled himself to remain an enigma, and to scorn what + destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only sort of + scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, + spontaneous, that is to say good, demonstration of passion + suited Lutchkov; he was bound to keep a continual check on + himself, even when he was angry. Kister was the only person + who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke into laughter; the + kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous delight of + sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from + Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering + looks, like a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, + Lutchkov never left his corner, scowled, glanced stealthily + at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at once threw an expression + of indifference into his own. Masha danced three times with + Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with confidence. + She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not + at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up + and down, tapping with their heels, and tossing the + epaulettes on their shoulders; the civilians tapped with + their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir from his place, + and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they + whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; + his neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before + him with downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov + for the first moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he + carelessly took off his sword, threw his hat on the floor, + picked his way awkwardly among the arm-chairs, took Masha by + the hand, and went round the circle, with no capering up and + down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an + unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + </p> + <p> + 'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'Where's your place?' + </p> + <p> + 'Over there.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her + and coolly returned to his corner... but there was an + agreeable stirring of the spleen within him. + </p> + <p> + Kister asked Masha for a dance. + </p> + <p> + 'What a strange person your friend is!' + </p> + <p> + 'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly + twinkle of his blue and kindly eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + </p> + <p> + 'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch + laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook + her head with an important air. + </p> + <p> + 'Me not know? How's that?'... + </p> + <p> + Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. + Avdey Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders + imperceptibly, and walked away into the other room. + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had + not once been at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them + pretty often. Nenila Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but + it was not she that attracted Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked + Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had not yet talked + himself out, he derived great pleasure from the interchange + of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in + the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a + young man and a young girl. + </p> + <p> + One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him + rapidly along to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, + close and sultry. Not a cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky + was so thick and dark on the horizon that the eye mistook it + for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had erected for a + summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the + steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. + Nenila Makarievna had every shutter closed from early + morning. Kister walked into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. + The light lay in long lines on the floor and in short, close + streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family gave Fyodor + Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila + Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. + Perekatov settled himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; + Masha sat near the window at her embroidery frame, Kister + facing her. Masha, without opening her frame, leaned lightly + over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began telling her + something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for + something, looked from time to time towards her father, and + all at once stretched out her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more + softly... papa's asleep.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, + with his head hanging and his mouth a little open. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + 'You will laugh at me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no, really!...' + </p> + <p> + Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face + remained uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not + without hesitation, asked Kister why it was he never brought + Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was not the first time Masha had + mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did not speak. Masha + glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, why not? of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to + examine the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of + light lay on her hair; 'no... but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted + her head, so that the streak of light fell straight in her + eyes; 'don't you see... he...' + </p> + <p> + 'He interests you....' + </p> + <p> + 'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, + turned her head a little away and in that position went on + talking. 'There is something about him so... There, you're + laughing at me,' she added suddenly, glancing swiftly at + Fyodor Fedoritch. + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + </p> + <p> + 'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha + went on: 'I know that you are a very'... (she nearly said + great) 'good friend of mine.' + </p> + <p> + Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her + hand to him; Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers + respectfully. + </p> + <p> + 'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again + she propped her elbows on the frame. + </p> + <p> + 'Queer?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha + added slily. + </p> + <p> + 'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined + solemnly. 'They don't know him in our regiment, they don't + appreciate him, they only see his external side. He's + embittered, of course, and strange and impatient, but his + heart is good.' + </p> + <p> + Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + </p> + <p> + 'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need + to be afraid of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... + I'll tell him... Oh! yes, I know what to say... Only you + mustn't suppose, though, that I would...' (Kister was + embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... 'Besides, after + all, of course you only... like him....' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked mischievously at her. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll + bring him to you....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no....' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange + everything.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her + finger at him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with + surprise. This doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. + Masha and Kister began discussing Schiller. + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt + something like a stir of envy within him... and was + generously indignant with himself. Nenila Makarievna came + down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. Mr. Perekatov + made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then + explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog + wagged its tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. + When at last the great heat began to lessen, and an evening + breeze blew up, the whole family went out for a walk in the + birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually glancing at + Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would carry + out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and + happy and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, + plunged into a rather high-flown discourse upon love in the + abstract, and upon friendship... but catching Nenila + Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye he, as abruptly, changed + the subject. The sunset was brilliant and glowing. A broad, + level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. Masha + took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' + Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with + his wife, Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential + little shrieks; Mr. Perekatov's valet had the temerity to + separate Nenila Makarievna from her spouse; one of the + servant-girls respectfully paired off with her master; Fyodor + Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he + regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, + all flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, + passing her hand over her hair. After supper, Kister took + leave. + </p> + <p> + It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He + was excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said + at last, almost aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them + together; I will justify her confidence in me.' Though there + was as yet nothing to prove a definite passion for Lutchkov + on Masha's part, though, according to her own account, he + only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up a + complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. + He resolved to sacrifice his feelings—the more readily + as 'so far I have no other sentiment for her but sincere + devotion,' thought he. Kister really was capable of + sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised duty. He + had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of + experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the + truth of his suppositions; he did not suspect that life is + endlessly varied, and never repeats itself. Little by little, + Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself into a state of ecstasy. He + began musing with emotion on his mission. To be the mediator + between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered only + because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; + to bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, + and then to withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of + his sacrifice, what a splendid feat! In spite of the coolness + of the night, the simple-hearted dreamer's face burned.... + </p> + <p> + Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a + pipe. Kister greeted him. + </p> + <p> + 'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some + solemnity. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. They are splendid people.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' + </p> + <p> + 'We talked about you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + </p> + <p> + 'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a + clever, sweet and sensitive girl.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + </p> + <pre> + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' +</pre> + <p> + 'But I assure you....' + </p> + <p> + 'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked + sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + </p> + <p> + 'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + </p> + <p> + 'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my + hearth,' Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with + vexation. + </p> + <p> + With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more + than before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen + Sie deutsch, Ivan Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, + 'don't be angry.' + </p> + <p> + 'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside + him. 'You know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) + 'But there's one thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... + it's just that you won't make friends with any one, that you + will stick at home, and refuse all intercourse with nice + people. Why, there are nice people in the world, hang it all! + Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been embittered, + what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of + course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast + me off some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + </p> + <p> + 'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness + knows what some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister + after a brief silence; 'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + </p> + <p> + 'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + </p> + <p> + 'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to + reconcile you with life. You will grow happier, blossom + out... yes, blossom out. How I shall rejoice then! Only you + must let me dispose of you now and then, of your time. To-day + it's—what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on + Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the + Perekatovs'. They will be so glad to see you... and we shall + have such a jolly time there... and now let me have a pipe.' + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at + the ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and + began drumming on the panes with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + 'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + </p> + <p> + 'What did they say?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your + acquaintance.' + </p> + <p> + 'Which of them's that?' + </p> + <p> + 'I say, what curiosity!' + </p> + <p> + Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be + saddled. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to?' + </p> + <p> + 'The riding-school.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + </p> + <p> + 'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the + street, pondered, and sighed deeply. + </p> + <h3> + IV + </h3> + <p> + Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the + arrival of Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly + returned to her own room, and went up to the + looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing violently. A girl + came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a little + water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. + Mr. Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting + on the sofa; Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing + his uniform, with his hat on his knees; Kister was near him. + They both got up on Masha's entrance—Kister with his + usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn and constrained + air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her + mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha + recovered herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To + the questions addressed to him by the lady of the house, he + answered briefly, but uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic + people. Nenila Makarievna suggested a stroll in the garden to + her guests, but did not herself go beyond the balcony. She + did not consider it essential never to lose sight of her + daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a fat + reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in + the steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha + talked more with Kister, but did not dare to look either at + him or at Lutchkov. Avdey Ivanovitch did not address a remark + to her; Kister's voice showed agitation. He laughed and + chattered a little over-much.... They reached the stream. A + couple of yards or so from the bank there was a water-lily, + which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, + encircled by its broad, round leaves. + </p> + <p> + 'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + </p> + <p> + She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out + his sword, clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a + willow, and, bending his whole body over the water, cut off + the head of the flower. 'It's deep here, take care!' Masha + cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his sword brought + the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, + picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted + amazement at Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't + swim...' Lutchkov observed abruptly. Masha did not like that + remark. 'What made him say that?' she wondered. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the + evening. Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's + soul; a dreamy perplexity was reflected more than once in her + face. She moved somehow more slowly, she did not flush on + meeting her mother's eyes—on the contrary, she seemed + to seek them, as though she would question her. During the + whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; + but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When + they had both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a + few days, she quietly went off to her own room, and for a + long while, as it were, in bewilderment she looked about her. + Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed and embraced her as + usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say + something—and did not utter a word. She wanted to + confess—-she did not know what. Her soul was gently + wandering in dreams. On the little table by her bedside the + flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean glass. + Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her + elbow, and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white + petals.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like + the Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov did not answer. + </p> + <p> + 'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + </p> + <p> + 'Really, I don't know.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense, come now!' + </p> + <p> + 'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not + bad-looking.' + </p> + <p> + 'There, you see...' said Kister—and he said no more. + </p> + <p> + Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that + they should call on the Perekatovs. + </p> + <p> + Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor + Fedoritch's absence he would have had to keep up a + conversation, and that he could not do, and as far as + possible avoided. + </p> + <p> + On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more + at her ease. She was by now secretly glad that she had not + disturbed her mamma by an uninvited avowal. Before dinner, + Avdey had offered to try a young horse, not yet broken in, + and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it + completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking + and laughing—and though he soon pulled himself up, yet + he had succeeded in making a momentary unpleasant impression + on Masha. She could not yet be sure herself what the feeling + exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, but everything she + did not like in him she set down to the influence of + misfortune, of loneliness. + </p> + <h3> + V + </h3> + <p> + The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. + Kister's position became more and more painful. He did not + regret his action... no, but he desired at least to cut short + the time of his trial. His devotion to Masha increased daily; + she too felt warmly towards him; but to be nothing more than + a go-between, a confidant, a friend even—it's a dreary, + thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great + deal about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of + suffering... but to Kister's warm and simple heart his + sufferings were not a source of any bliss whatever. At last, + one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to fetch him, and + the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, to + the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he + should stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and + angry... Kister pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + </p> + <p> + The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his + comrades in peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his + spirit had not 'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet + he certainly had toned down a little. He could not have been + called 'disillusioned' before—he had seen and + experienced almost nothing—and so it is not surprising + that Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched + though; only his spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for + him were of a strange kind. She almost never looked him + straight in the face; she could not talk to him.... When they + happened to be left alone together, Masha felt horribly + awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt + overawed by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did + not understand him, and was unworthy of his confidence; + miserably, drearily—but continually—she thought + of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, soothed her and + put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed nor + excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours + together, leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, + looking affectionately into his face, and laughing with his + laughter—and she rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov + there was something enigmatic for the young girl; she felt + that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained every + effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So + children stare a long while into a deep well, till at last + they make out at the very bottom the still, black water. + </p> + <p> + On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was + at first scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more + than once fancied that there existed some sort of + misunderstanding between Lutchkov and her, that he had not + hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. Lutchkov + mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents + expressed their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at + Avdey, and felt faint with expectation. After dinner they + were left alone; Masha did not know what to say, she sat down + to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly and tremblingly + over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting for + the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for + music. Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was + at that time just coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... + Avdey Ivanovitch responded: 'Quite so,' 'by no means,' + 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. Masha played some + brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. Lutchkov + listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, + his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped + up at once and closed the piano. She went up to the window, + and for a long while stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not + stir from his seat, and still remained silent. Impatience + began to take the place of timidity in Masha's soul. 'What is + it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' It was + Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his + miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... + 'It was the devil's own notion to have anything to do with + the wretched girl,' he muttered to himself.... And all the + while how easy it was to touch Masha's heart at that instant! + Whatever had been said by such an extraordinary though + eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would have + understood everything, have excused anything, have believed + anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of + vexation were standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be + open, if I am really not worthy of his confidence, why does + he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps it is that I don't set + the right way to work to make him reveal himself?'... And she + turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, so + searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her + glance, and could not keep silence any longer.... + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I + ought to tell you something....' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't now...' + </p> + <p> + 'Why not?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, we are alone now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... but... here in the house....' + </p> + <p> + Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, + 'it's all over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + </p> + <p> + 'I agree,' she said at last. + </p> + <p> + 'When then? Where?' + </p> + <p> + Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + </p> + <p> + 'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the + Long Meadow?'... + </p> + <p> + 'Behind the mill?' + </p> + <p> + Masha nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'What time?' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait...' + </p> + <p> + She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she + turned pale and went quickly out of the room. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his + characteristic politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, + pressed his hand feelingly, and begged him 'not to forget + them'; then, having let out his guest, he observed with + dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to + shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn + air to his own room, with the same careworn air sat down on + the sofa, and guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + </p> + <p> + 'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her + daughter, on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite + well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's + neck. + </p> + <p> + 'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that + motherly solicitude in which there is none the less audible a + note of parental authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy + too. You're not well, Masha.' + </p> + <p> + 'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of + escape. + </p> + <p> + 'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on + Masha's forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + </p> + <p> + Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender + waist. + </p> + <p> + 'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she + said caressingly, not loosing her hands. + </p> + <p> + Masha shuddered inwardly. + </p> + <p> + 'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's + attention. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + </p> + <p> + But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and + instead of answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, really, nothing.' + </p> + <p> + 'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short + silence. 'I know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's + true, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + </p> + <p> + 'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep + anything from me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + And Masha hugged her. + </p> + <p> + 'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked + about the room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of + one who feels that the question asked is of no special + importance; 'what were you talking about with Avdey + Ivanovitch to-day?' + </p> + <p> + 'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all + sorts of things....' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you like him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes, I like him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how + excited you were?' + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away and laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed + good-humouredly. + </p> + <p> + Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held + her tongue. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer + fish, but still he's a nice man!' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + </p> + <p> + 'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch + wanted to make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? Accept his present?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned + back again. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + </p> + <p> + 'What promise?' + </p> + <p> + 'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + </p> + <p> + 'I remember.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed + musically.) 'Look into my eyes.' + </p> + <p> + Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + </p> + <p> + 'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt + reassured. 'As if she could deceive me!... How could I think + of such a thing!... She's still a perfect baby....' + </p> + <p> + She went away.... + </p> + <p> + 'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + </p> + <h3> + VI + </h3> + <p> + Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his + room. The bully's face never expressed <i>one</i> feeling; so + it was now: feigned indifference, coarse delight, + consciousness of his own superiority... a number of different + emotions were playing over his features. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question + him. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well? Are they all well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, why not?' + </p> + <p> + 'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I think so.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister + looked down and mused. + </p> + <p> + 'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring + voice, 'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured + fellow, but you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for + all that, if I may venture to say so.' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always + cracking them up! You're never tired of singing their + praises! To listen to you, they're all angels.... Nice sort + of angels!' + </p> + <p> + 'I like and respect women, but———' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not + going to argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain + man.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just + now,... are you talking about women?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple + heart!) that Masha had been treating him badly; had been + torturing him, perhaps, as only women can.... + </p> + <p> + 'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he + said, in a drawling tone, complacently stroking his + moustaches. 'No, only, look here, Fedya,' he went on with the + manner of a preceptor, 'I was only going to point out that + you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. You believe + me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a + little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things + in your own hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh!' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I + shouldn't have thought there was anything. There isn't + anything, is there? And here, I've a clandestine appointment + for to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement + at Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued + serenely. 'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's + only a bit of fun. It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty + little girl,... well, says I, why not? Marriage, of course, + I'm not going in for... but there, I like to recall my young + days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats—but I + may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the + nightingales together. Of course, it's really more in your + line; but the wench has no eyes, you see. I should have + thought I wasn't worth looking at beside you.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. + His head was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand + over his face. Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, + screwed up his eyes, stretched, and putting down Kister's + emotion to jealousy, was almost gasping with delight. But it + was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; he was wounded, + not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse carelessness, + his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He was + still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for + the first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it + was he had been scheming for! This for which he had + sacrificed his own inclinations! Here it was, the blessed + influence of love. + </p> + <p> + 'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he + muttered at last. + </p> + <p> + 'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant + chuckle. + </p> + <p> + Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even + then; perhaps, thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is + 'humbugging' from old habit... he has not yet found a new + language to express new feelings. And was there not in + himself some other feeling lurking under his indignation? Did + not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply + because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps + Lutchkov really was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a + thousand times no! That man in love?... That man was + loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his nervous, + cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, + not in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted + friend the secret of his love.... In overflowing happiness, + in dumb rapture, with bright, blissful tears in his eyes + would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect + it, and now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? + eh?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to + the wall. 'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he + whispered to himself. 'He wouldn't understand me... so be it! + He supposes none but evil feelings in me—so be it!...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey got up. + </p> + <p> + 'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I + don't want to be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... + pleasant dreams!' + </p> + <p> + And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + </p> + <p> + Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With + feverish persistence he turned over and over and thought over + and over the same single idea—an occupation only too + well known to unhappy lovers. + </p> + <p> + 'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she + has flung herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with + me, with his friend, to speak so disrespectfully, so + offensively of her! In what way is she to blame? How could + any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced girl? + </p> + <p> + 'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She + has—yes, she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he + never tells a lie. But perhaps it means nothing, a mere + freak.... + </p> + <p> + 'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of + insulting her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for + anything.... And wasn't it I myself that praised him up and + exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her curiosity?... But + who could have known this? Who could have foreseen it?... + </p> + <p> + 'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... + But, after all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! + What a lesson!' + </p> + <p> + All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. + 'Yes, I did like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my + liking cooled so suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why + did I ever like him? I alone?' + </p> + <p> + Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the + very reason that all the rest avoided him. But the + good-hearted youth did not know himself how great his + good-heartedness was. + </p> + <p> + 'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? + What right have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in + other people's love? How do I know the nature of that love? + Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, no!' he said aloud, with + irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out his pillow, + 'that man's stone.... + </p> + <p> + 'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious + friend, indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a + sickening egoist I am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I + wish them happiness.... Happiness! but he is laughing at + her!... And why does he dye his moustaches? I do, really, + believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' he repeated, as + he fell asleep. + </p> + <h3> + VII + </h3> + <p> + The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When + they met, Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, + too, found a change in him, but neither spoke of it. The + whole morning they both, contrary to their habit, felt + uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number of hints + and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but + all this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown + away. Masha was vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; + she fancied that he pronounced some words with intentional + significance; but she was conscious, too, of her own + excitement, and did not trust her own observations. 'If only + he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what she was + thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that + he was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness + and her uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more + afraid he was for her the more impossible he found it to + speak of Lutchkov; while Masha obstinately refrained from + uttering his name. It was a painful experience for poor + Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his own + feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She + had, to all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint + flush stood in patches on her pale face; her figure was + faintly drooping; an unconscious, weary smile never left her + lips; now and then a shiver ran over her white shoulders; a + soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and quickly faded + away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and + possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in + her mother's presence Masha was armed <i>jusqu'aux dents,</i> + as the French say, and she did not betray herself at all. So + passed the whole morning. + </p> + <p> + 'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. + 'Excuse me... duties of the service...' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, + following her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I + don't want to be in the way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, + as he passed her, but he bowed down and whispered instead: + 'Be happy... farewell... take care of yourself...' and was + gone. + </p> + <p> + Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then + felt panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting + her? Love or curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity + alone was enough to ruin Eve. + </p> + <h3> + VIII + </h3> + <p> + Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground + on the right of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile + from the Perekatovs' property. The left bank, completely + covered by thick young oak bushes, rose steeply up over the + stream, which was almost overgrown with willow bushes, except + for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild ducks. + Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long + Meadow, began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here + and there with old birch-trees, nut bushes, and + guelder-roses. + </p> + <p> + The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the + distance, sounding louder or softer according to the wind. + The seignorial drove of horses was lazily wandering about the + meadows; a shepherd walked, humming a tune, after a flock of + greedy and timorous sheep; the sheepdogs, from boredom, were + running after the crows. Lutchkov walked up and down in the + copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near by, more + than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of + the mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered + and shy, as usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt + wrathful with her and annoyed with himself... but his + excitement smothered his annoyance. He stopped at last before + a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip switching + off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + </p> + <p> + He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces + from him stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a + hat, but with no gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily + tied kerchief round her neck. She dropped her eyes instantly, + and softly nodded.... + </p> + <p> + Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + </p> + <p> + 'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + </p> + <p> + 'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted + breathlessly. 'I usually walk here in the evening... and + you...' + </p> + <p> + But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to + keep up her innocent deception. + </p> + <p> + 'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, + 'you yourself suggested...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see + me, you wanted...' Her voice died away. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, + and not used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished + to tell you... but, I fancy, you 're not in the humour to + listen to me....' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak.' + </p> + <p> + 'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that + for a long while now, ever since I had the honour of making + your acquaintance...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his + sentence. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... + There's no changing one's destiny...' + </p> + <p> + 'How can one know?...' + </p> + <p> + 'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its + blows!' + </p> + <p> + It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting + moment for Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + </p> + <p> + 'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed + with a smile; 'some even too kind....' + </p> + <p> + 'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I + appreciate your friendliness... I... I... You won't be + angry?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.... What do you want to say?' + </p> + <p> + 'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya + Sergievna, awfully charming....' + </p> + <p> + 'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart + was aching with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. + Lutchkov,' she went on—'look, what a view!' + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening + shadows, and flushed red with the sunset. + </p> + <p> + Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, + Lutchkov began admiring the view. He was standing near + Masha.... + </p> + <p> + 'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of + her little head, looking at him with that friendly, + inquisitive, soft glance, which is a gift only vouchsafed to + young girls. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... + a stroll's pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a + soldier, and fine sentiments are not in my line.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief + silence followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + </p> + <p> + 'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, + though! Come, more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in + a fairly resolute voice. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned to him. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my + side know what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so + to say,... amiably disposed towards my person?' + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do + you know, Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's + not always easy to give a direct answer to a direct + question.' + </p> + <p> + 'Still...' + </p> + <p> + 'But what is it to you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + </p> + <p> + 'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is + it true?' said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you + have killed more than one man?' + </p> + <p> + 'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he + stroked his moustaches. + </p> + <p> + Masha looked intently at him. + </p> + <p> + 'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood + had caught fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young + and pretty girl had been moving before his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange + voice, 'you know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to + see you for.... You've been so kind.... You tell me, too, at + last what I may hope for....' + </p> + <p> + Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced + sideways at Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense + you do talk,' and gave him the flower. + </p> + <p> + Avdey seized her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'And so you love me!' he cried. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the + slightest idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she + was not even sure herself as yet whether she did care for + him, and here he was forestalling her, forcing her to speak + out—he must be misunderstanding her then.... This idea + flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. She had + never expected such a speedy <i>dénouement.</i>... + Masha, like an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all + day: 'Can it be that Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed + of a delightful evening walk, a respectful and tender + dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with him, make + the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at + parting to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + </p> + <p> + Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough + moustaches on her cheek.... + </p> + <p> + 'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other + happiness on earth!' + </p> + <p> + Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale + all over, stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. + Avdey was terribly confused. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect + really...' + </p> + <p> + Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A + disagreeable smile twisted his lips... patches of red came + out on his face.... + </p> + <p> + 'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great + matter.... Why, we understand each other... and so....' + </p> + <p> + Masha did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing + but...' Lutchkov stretched out his hand to her. + </p> + <p> + Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, + sinking with terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, + 'Taniusha!' + </p> + <p> + From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... + Avdey was completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence + of her hand-maiden, Masha did not stir. But the bully was + shaking all over with rage; his eyes were half closed; he + clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + </p> + <p> + 'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick—no denying that!' he cried + out. + </p> + <p> + Masha was petrified. + </p> + <p> + 'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya + Sergievna! Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! + Nowadays young ladies see further than old men. So this is + all your love amounts to!' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to + speak about love... what love?' + </p> + <p> + 'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what + next!' He felt he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but + he could not restrain himself. + </p> + <p> + 'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to + your request, relying upon your <i>délicatesse</i>... + but you don't know French... on your courtesy, I mean....' + </p> + <p> + Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very + well that you have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut + her short peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Lutchkov...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's + trouble thrown away! you don't impress me.' + </p> + <p> + Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked + away. + </p> + <p> + 'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd + lad, your tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after + her. He had lost his head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + </p> + <p> + Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She + felt light at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. + She felt as though she had waked up from a troubled sleep, + had stepped out of a dark room into air and sunshine.... + Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless frenzy he + broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously + drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at + the reins that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a + quarter of an hour and almost expired the same night. + </p> + <p> + Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next + morning he went round himself to see him. The orderly + informed Fyodor Fedoritch that his master was lying down and + had given orders that he would see no one. 'He won't see me + even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked twice up and + down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and + then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + </p> + <p> + 'From whom?' + </p> + <p> + 'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + </p> + <p> + Kister's hands began to tremble. + </p> + <p> + 'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to + wait for your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + </p> + <p> + Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + </p> + <p> + 'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,—I want very, very much to + see you. Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I + entreat you, for the sake of our old friendship. If only you + knew... but you shall know everything. Good-bye for a little + while,—eh? + </p> + <p> + MARIE. + </p> + <p> + 'P.S.—Be sure to come to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + </p> + <p> + Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's + countenance, and went out without uttering a word. + </p> + <p> + 'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a + drink with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the + postillion. + </p> + <h3> + IX + </h3> + <p> + Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet + Kister, when he came into the drawing-room, she pressed his + hand so warmly and affectionately, that his heart throbbed + with delight, and a weight seemed rolled from his mind. Masha + did not, however, say a single word, and she promptly left + the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the sofa, playing + patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not + yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the + conversation round from all extraneous topics to his dog, + when Masha reappeared, wearing a plaid silk sash, Kister's + favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and gave Fyodor + Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all + laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up + spirit and described one of the merriest pranks of his + youthful days, hiding his head from his wife like an ostrich, + as he told the story. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to + Kister after dinner with that note of affectionate authority + in her voice which is, as it were, conscious that you will + gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk to you about something + very, very important,' she added with enchanting solemnity, + as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, + <i>maman</i>?' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + </p> + <p> + 'But we are not going into the garden.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where then?' + </p> + <p> + 'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + </p> + <p> + 'Take Taniusha with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly + as a bird from the room. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the + Long Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of + bread to her favourite cow, patted it on the head and made + Kister stroke it. Masha was in great good humour and chatted + merrily. Kister responded willingly, though he awaited + explanations with impatience.... Taniusha walked behind at a + respectful distance, only from time to time stealing a sly + glance at her young lady. + </p> + <p> + 'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + </p> + <p> + 'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + </p> + <p> + 'You were out of humour... that was all.' + </p> + <p> + 'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. + That's right.... You were out of humour too.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I was too.' + </p> + <p> + 'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you know why? Because...' + </p> + <p> + Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because + I am with you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + </p> + <p> + Kister softly pressed her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an + undertone. + </p> + <p> + 'What about?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was waiting for...' + </p> + <p> + 'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him + impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, + because you are incapable... <i>parceque vous avez de la + délicatesse</i>. One can say that to you: you + understand French.' + </p> + <p> + Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least + understand Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha + admired it, and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from + his arm, with an anxious smile she began carefully sticking + the tender stalk in the buttonhole of Kister's coat. Her + slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at the + fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though + to say 'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of + her gloves. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha + became suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent + altogether. They came to the very place where Lutchkov had + waited for her. The trampled grass had not yet grown straight + again; the broken sapling had not yet withered, its little + leaves were only just beginning to curl up and fade. Masha + stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I don't.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about + your friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + </p> + <p> + Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I + made... an appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + </p> + <p> + 'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before + yesterday... Mr. Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of + his <i>conquest</i>.' + </p> + <p> + Kister was about to answer.... + </p> + <p> + 'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know + he's your friend. You are capable of taking his part. You + knew, Kister, you knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me + from acting so stupidly? Why didn't you box my ears, as if I + were a child? You knew... and didn't you care?' + </p> + <p> + 'But what right had I...' + </p> + <p> + 'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your + friend.... I'm ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That + man behaved to me yesterday, as if...' + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, + don't be angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of + yesterday's explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' + added Masha. 'What do you suppose I am telling you about it + for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? Nonsense! I've forgotten + about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good friend.... I + want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... your + advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease + with you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + </p> + <p> + 'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with + difficulty; 'but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Why <i>but</i>? Aren't you ashamed to say <i>but</i>? He is + coarse, <i>and</i> clumsy, <i>and</i> ill-natured, <i>and</i> + conceited.... Do you hear?—<i>and</i>, not <i>but</i>.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya + Sergievna,' Kister observed mournfully. + </p> + <p> + 'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like + this when they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may + think what you like of me... but if you imagine I am flirting + with you to-day from pique, well... well...' (tears stood in + her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + </p> + <p> + 'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not + open with you, don't you see right through me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a + smile, seeing with what anxious insistence she tried to catch + his eyes. 'But tell me, what induced you to arrange to meet + Lutchkov?' + </p> + <p> + 'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to + me alone. I fancied he had never had time, never had an + opportunity to speak freely. He has spoken freely now! Do you + know, he may be an extraordinary man, but he's a fool, + really.... He doesn't know how to put two words together. + He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him + much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. + I hardly ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, + certainly, but I imagined that a man who was worthy of being + your friend...' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister + interposed. + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a + friend.... Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' + Kister added hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + Masha looked intently into his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. + It's a lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. + For several months past I have almost every day seen a man + who is good, clever, bright, friendly who...' (Masha was + confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, cared... a little... + for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on quickly, + 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + </p> + <p> + She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + </p> + <p> + Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept + repeating to himself. + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + </p> + <p> + Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with + unshed tears. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha + at once clutched it warmly. + </p> + <p> + 'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you + answer?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + </p> + <p> + 'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You + understand me? You're not laughing at a girl who made an + appointment only yesterday with one man, and to-day is + talking to another, as I am talking to you.... You're not + laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed crimson, she + clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + </p> + <p> + 'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love + you... I love you,' he cried. + </p> + <p> + Masha hid her face. + </p> + <p> + 'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + </p> + <h3> + X + </h3> + <p> + Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in + his room, writing the following letter to his mother:— + </p> + <p> + Dearest Mother!—I make haste to share my great + happiness with you; I am going to get married. This news will + probably only surprise you from my not having, in my previous + letters, even hinted at so important a change in my + life—and you know that I am used to sharing all my + feelings, my joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for + silence are not easy to explain to you. To begin with, I did + not know till lately that I was loved; and on my own side + too, it is only lately that I have realised myself all the + strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters from + here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am + engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly + convinced that we shall both be happy. My feeling for her is + not a fleeting passion, but a deep and genuine emotion, in + which friendship is mingled with love. Her bright, gentle + disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is + well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you + could only see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I + need hardly say she is a hundred times better-looking than + her portrait. Masha loves you already, like a daughter, and + is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. I mean to retire, + to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. Mr. + Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent + condition. You see that even from the material point of view, + you cannot but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come + to Moscow and to you. Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My + own dearest mother, how happy I am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + </p> + <p> + Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the + window, lighted a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the + table. He took out a small sheet of notepaper, carefully + dipped his pen into the ink, but for a long while he did not + begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes to the + ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his + mind, and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had + composed the following: + </p> + <p> + 'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,—Since the day of your last + visit (that is, for three weeks) you have sent me no message, + have not said a word to me, and have seemed to avoid meeting + me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to act as he pleases; you + have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I do not, + believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any + way. It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon + any one whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not + to blame in the matter. I am writing to you now from a + feeling of duty. I have made an offer to Marya Sergievna + Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and also by her + parents. I inform <i>you</i> of this fact—directly and + immediately—to avoid any kind of misapprehension or + suspicion. I frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel + great concern about the good opinion of a man who himself + shows so little concern for the opinions and feelings of + other people, and I am writing to you solely because I do not + care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to be + acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and + will not ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. + Addressing you for the last time, I cannot, for the sake of + our old friendship, refrain from wishing you all good things + possible on earth.—I remain, sincerely, your obedient + servant, Fyodor Kister.' + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed + his uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. + Light-hearted and happy, he walked up and down his little + room humming, even gave two little skips in the air, twisted + a book of songs into a roll, and was tying it up with blue + ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a coat without + epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. + Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, + without finishing the bow he was tying. + </p> + <p> + 'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a + calm voice. + </p> + <p> + Kister fired up. + </p> + <p> + 'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say + good-morning when they come into another man's room.' + </p> + <p> + 'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. + 'Good-morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to + marry Miss Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I + congratulate you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I + must be starting.' + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, + Fyodor Fedoritch.' + </p> + <p> + 'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured + fellow. 'I must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your + behaviour to me has been so strange, and I think, on my side, + I have not deserved... at least, I had no reason to expect... + But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you like a pipe?' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible + in his movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his + eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you + keep it up with me so long?...' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you + were just such another as all the rest of us sinners all the + while?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some + way?...' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak + more plainly. Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you + had a liking for the Perekatov girl all along, or is it a + case of sudden passion?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my + relations with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to + believe that you've been humbugging me.' + </p> + <p> + Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark + forest, and the best side of goods is always turned + uppermost. I know you read German poetry with great feeling + and even with tears in your eyes; I know that you've hung + various maps on your walls; I know you keep your person + clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + </p> + <p> + Kister began to lose his temper. + </p> + <p> + 'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object + of your visit? You have sent no message to me for three + weeks, and now you come to me, apparently with the intention + of jeering at me. I am not a boy, sir, and I do not allow any + one...' + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor + Fedoritch, who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the + other way; I've come to you with a most humble request, that + is, that you'd do me the favour to explain your behaviour to + me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who forced me to make + the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you assure + your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into + flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous + Marya Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to + <i>you</i> I'm indebted for that final agreeable scene, of + which you have doubtless been informed in befitting fashion? + An engaged girl, of course, tells her betrothed of + everything, especially of her <i>innocent</i> indiscretions. + How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been + made such a terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest + in my "blossoming out," you know!' + </p> + <p> + Kister walked up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you + really—joking apart—are convinced of what you + say, which I confess I don't believe, then let me tell you, + it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an insulting + construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to + justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your + memory.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya + Sergievna. Besides that, let me ask you another question: + Weren't you at the Perekatovs' after a certain conversation + with me, after that evening when I like a fool chattered to + you, thinking you my greatest friend, of the meeting she'd + arranged?' + </p> + <p> + 'What! you suspect me...' + </p> + <p> + 'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with + cutting iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I + have the weakness to suppose that other men are no better + than I am.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men + are better than you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; + 'but...' + </p> + <p> + 'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly + infuriated, 'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... + of... But these explanations are leading to nothing, I + see.... Think what you choose of me, and act as you think + best.' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're + beginning to speak plainly.' + </p> + <p> + 'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on + with an affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, + certainly. A man has been acting, acting a part, and no one + has recognised him as a humbug; and all of a sudden...' + </p> + <p> + 'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, + 'that it was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I + should feel sorry for you; I could excuse you.... But in your + abuse, in your false charges, I hear nothing but the shriek + of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy for you.... You + have deserved what you've got.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. + 'Pride,' he went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, + has been mortified intensely and insufferably. But who isn't + proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm proud, and for instance, I permit + no one to feel sorry for me....' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an + expression, sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you + yourself have broken. I must beg you to behave with me as + with a complete outsider.' + </p> + <p> + 'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. + 'Understand me; I have sent you no message, and have not been + to see you because I was sorry for you; you must allow me to + be sorry for you, since you 're sorry for me!... I didn't + want to put you in a false position, to make your conscience + prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you could + remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you + were only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied + superiority...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. + 'I must own I don't see why you've been pleased to come to + me.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked + inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + 'I certainly don't see why.' + </p> + <p> + 'N—o?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I tell you...' + </p> + <p> + 'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it + of a fellow of your intelligence!' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, speak plainly...' + </p> + <p> + 'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his + feet, 'I have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you + understand now? I want to fight you. Ah! you thought you + could get rid of me like that! Why, didn't you know the sort + of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept + your challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to + let his victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll + own to put a bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance + to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister + rejoined contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, to be sure, <i>délicatesse</i>!... Ah, Marya + Sergievna, I don't know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on + his cap. 'Till we meet again, Fyodor Fedoritch!' + </p> + <p> + He bowed and walked out. + </p> + <p> + Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face + burned, his breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor + anger; but it sickened him to think what this man really was + that he had once looked upon as a friend. The idea of the + duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to him.... Once get + free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, and then + to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I + shall be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed + to smile to him, to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be + killed! not I!' he repeated with a serene smile. On the table + lay the letter to his mother.... He felt a momentary pang at + his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending it off. There + was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of which + a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all + the possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and + himself in all the agonies of misery and parting, and looked + forward to the future with hope. He swore to himself not to + kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly drawn to Masha. He + paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and directly + after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening + Kister was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + </p> + <p> + Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of + evil, and flirted charmingly with him. At first her + unconsciousness wounded him, then he took Masha's very + unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was rejoiced and + reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him every + day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than + passion. Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated + desires, and she renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila + Makarievna loved Kister like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual + followed his wife's lead. + </p> + <p> + 'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the + hall and gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and + tenderly kissed her hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till + we meet.' + </p> + <p> + But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' + house, he stood up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness + began looking for the lighted windows.... All in the house + was dark as in the tomb. + </p> + <h3> + XI + </h3> + <p> + Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an + old major of tried merit, came for him. The good old man + growled to himself, bit his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey + Ivanovitch everything unpleasant.... The carriage was brought + to the door. Kister handed the major two letters, one for his + mother, the other for Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'What's this for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, one can never tell...' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + </p> + <p> + 'Any way it's better...' + </p> + <p> + The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side + pocket of his coat. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us start.' + </p> + <p> + They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the + village of Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his + former friend, the perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, + the birds were twittering peacefully; not far from the copse + a peasant was tilling the ground. While the seconds were + marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, examining and + loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at one + another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, + swinging a flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, + with folded arms and scowling brow. The decisive moment + arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister went rapidly towards the + barrier, but he had not gone five steps before Avdey fired, + Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His + head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack + on the grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it + possible?' whispered the dying man. + </p> + <p> + Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and + sunken face was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He + looked at the adjutant and the major, bent his head like a + guilty man, got on his horse without a word, and rode slowly + straight to the colonel's quarters. + </p> + <p> + Masha... is living to this day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="4"></a> + <h2> + THREE PORTRAITS + </h2> + <p> + 'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of + life in the country. I knew a country gentleman of the + Vologodsky district, who used on every suitable occasion to + repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I have no + neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that + happy mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the + most thickly peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by + a vast number of dear neighbours, from highly respectable and + highly respected country gentlemen, attired in ample + frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, down to regular + loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a so-called + shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I + chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He + had served in the army, had retired and settled for good and + all in the country. According to his story, he had served for + two years in the B——— regiment. But I am + totally unable to comprehend how that man could have + performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but + even for two days. He was born 'for a life of peace and + country calm,' that is to say, for lazy, careless vegetation, + which, I note parenthetically, is not without great and + inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair property, and + without giving too much thought to its management, spent + about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent + cook—my friend was fond of good fare—and ordered + too from Moscow all the newest French books and magazines. In + Russian he read nothing but the reports of his bailiff, and + that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not go out + shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till + dinner-time and at dinner. He would look through plans of + some sort, or go round to the stables or to the threshing + barn, and joke with the peasant women, who, to be sure, in + his presence wielded their flails in leisurely fashion. After + dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the + looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed + of two or three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and + unconcernedly with one of them, play blind-man's-buff with + them, return home rather late and promptly fall into a heroic + sleep. He could never be bored, for he never gave himself up + to complete inactivity; and in the choice of occupations he + was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child with + the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no + particular attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced + to get a glimpse of the track of a wolf or a fox, he would + let his horse go at full gallop over such ravines that to + this day I cannot understand how it was he did not break his + neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of + persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know + their own value, that under their appearance of indifference + strong and violent passions lie concealed. But he would have + laughed in one's face if he could have guessed that one + cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed I must own I + believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in youth + some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so + sweetly called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long + ago died out. He was rather stout and enjoyed superb health. + In our day one cannot help liking people who think little + about themselves, because they are exceedingly rare... and my + friend had almost forgotten his own personality. I fancy, + though, that I have said too much about him already, and my + prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero of + my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + </p> + <p> + One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, + gathered together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the + whole morning out, had run down a couple of foxes and a + number of hares, and had returned home in that supremely + agreeable frame of mind which comes over every well-regulated + person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. The + wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging + the bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's + house. We reached the house, got off our horses.... On the + steps I stood still and looked round: long storm-clouds were + creeping heavily over the grey sky; a dark-brown bush was + writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; the yellow + grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; + flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes + among the bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among + the light brittle twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped + whistling. In the village there was the hoarse barking of + dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was with a genuine sense of + comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The shutters were + closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of + dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, + there were eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a + fire glowed cheerfully on the hearth, and an old and very + stately-looking butler, with a huge bald head, wearing an + English dress, stood before another table on which was + pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by + light savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by + another venerable man, engaged in icing + champagne—'according to the strictest rules of the + art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly + pleasant. We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's + shooting, and recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' + After dining pretty heartily, we settled comfortably into + ample arm-chairs round the fire; a huge silver bowl made its + appearance on the table, and in a few minutes the white flame + of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable intention + 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some + taste; he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal + an influence on the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light + of a lamp, and so he gave orders that only two candles should + be left in the room. Strange half-shadows quivered on the + walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the fire in the hearth + and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly agreeable + sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat + boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + </p> + <p> + Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin + proverb says, like everything in the world. Our conversation + that evening was particularly many-sided and lively. From + details it passed to rather serious general questions, and + lightly and casually came back to the daily incidents of + life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all sank + into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is + flying over. + </p> + <p> + I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my + tongue because my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three + dusty portraits in black wooden frames. The colours were + rubbed and cracked in places, but one could still make out + the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a young + woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up + high, in the style of the eighties of last century. On her + right, upon a perfectly black background, there stood out the + full, round face of a good-natured country gentleman of + five-and-twenty, with a broad, low brow, a thick nose, and a + good-humoured smile. The French powdered coiffure was utterly + out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic face. The + artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson + colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding + some unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was + the work of some other more skilful hand, represented a man + of thirty, in the green uniform, with red facings, of the + time of Catherine, in a white shirt, with a fine cambric + cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the other lay + on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of + insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew + together over the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely + discernible lips played an evil smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch + asked me. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + </p> + <p> + 'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three + persons?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + </p> + <p> + Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the + portraits, and in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, + 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, 'this lady was the adopted child of + my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna N.N., called Lutchinov, + who died forty years ago unmarried. This gentleman,' he + pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a + lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, + expired by the will of God in the year seventeen hundred and + ninety. And this gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of + being related, is a certain Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, + serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... Kindly take note of + the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the heart + should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, + would be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, + 'he went on in his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm + yourselves with patience, and listen.' + </p> + <p> + Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not + proud of my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all + fearful prodigals. Though that reproach cannot indeed be made + against my great-grandfather, Ivan Andreevitch Lutchinov; on + the contrary, he had the character of being excessively + careful, even miserly—at any rate, in the latter years + of his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived + through the reign of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and + had by his wife, my great-grandmother, four children, three + sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, my grandfather, and one + daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch took into + his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and + destitute orphan—Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just + now. My great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his + existence, for they used (when nothing particularly unlucky + occurred) to send him a trifling rent, but they had never + seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, deprived of the + bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing exceedingly, + when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family + coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's + hut. The peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, + ran up and saw their master and mistress and all their young + ones, except the eldest, Vassily, who was left behind in + Petersburg. From that memorable day down to the very day of + his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. He built + himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure + of conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, + and began living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan + Andreevitch was a man of immense height, thin, silent, and + very deliberate in all his movements. He never wore a + dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen him + without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his + hands clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. + Every day he used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, + which he had planted with his own hand; and before his death + he had the pleasure of enjoying the shade of those trees. + Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his words; a + proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable + fact that in the course of twenty years he had not said a + single word to his wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with + Anna Pavlovna altogether were of a very curious sort. She + directed the whole management of the household; at dinner she + always sat beside her husband—he would mercilessly have + chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word + to her—and yet he never spoke to her, never touched her + hand. Anna Pavlovna was a pale, broken-spirited woman, + completely crushed. She prayed every day on her knees in + church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they + had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, + lived on very cordial terms with one another. They did say + too that Anna Pavlovna had been untrue to her matrimonial + vows; that her conduct had come to her husband's + knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, + even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last + illness, she never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. + One night, Anna Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's + bedroom—he suffered from sleeplessness—a lamp was + burning before the holy picture. My grandfather's servant, + Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words later, went + out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and + sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, + tried to say something—stretched out her hands... Ivan + Andreevitch looked at her, and in a faint voice, but + resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant went in; Anna Pavlovna + hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her place. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. + They grew up in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan + Andreevitch's strange treatment of his wife. They all loved + Anna Pavlovna passionately, but did not dare to show their + love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof from them.... You + remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his death + he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is + the force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan + Ivanovitch, were simple, good-hearted people, quiet and + depressed. My grand'tante Natalia married, as you are aware, + a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life she cherished an + unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But their + brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that + Ivan Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then + twelve. His father confided him to the care of a distant + kinsman, a man no longer young, a bachelor, and a terrible + Voltairean. + </p> + <p> + Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but + was well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French + excellently, and was renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. + He was considered one of the most brilliant young men of the + beginning of the reign of Catherine. My father used often to + tell me that he had known more than one old lady who could + not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt + emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional + strength of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and + daring, reserved in the extreme, and—according to the + testimony of all his contemporaries—fascinatingly, + captivatingly attractive. He had no conscience, no heart, no + principle, though no one could have called him positively a + bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his + vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When + Vassily Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling + affectionately, when he wanted to fascinate any one, they say + it was impossible to resist him; and even people, thoroughly + convinced of the coldness and hardness of his heart, were + more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his + personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, + and made other people, too, work for his advantage; and he + was always successful in everything, because he never lost + his head, never disdained using flattery as a means, and well + understood how to use it. + </p> + <p> + Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, + he came for a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant + officer of the Guards, and in that time succeeded positively + in turning the head of the grim old man, his father. Strange + to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with enjoyment to his son's + stories of some of his <i>conquests</i>. His brothers were + speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of a + higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder + of him than any of her other children who were so sincerely + devoted to her. + </p> + <p> + Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily + to visit his people, but also with the second object of + getting as much money as possible from his father. He lived + sumptuously in the glare of publicity in Petersburg, and had + made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get round his + father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on + this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his + other children together during twenty years spent under his + roof, Vassily followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what + you can!' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such + another tall, thin, taciturn person as his master. They say + that this man Yuditch was partly responsible for Ivan + Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna Pavlovna; they say + he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue with one + of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely + Yuditch deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would + be difficult to conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory + is held in veneration by all my house-serfs to this day. My + great-grandfather put unbounded confidence in Yuditch. In + those days landowners used to have money, but did not put it + into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in chests, + under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his + money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the + head of his bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to + Yuditch. Every evening as he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch + used to bid him open the coffer in his presence, used to tap + in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a stick, and + every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and + carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these + doings, and burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred + coffer. In the course of five or six days he had + <i>softened</i> Yuditch, that is, he had worked on the old + man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young + master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on + a careworn and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer + Yuditch's questions, and at last told him that he had lost at + play, and should make an end of himself if he could not get + money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, flung himself on his + knees before him, begged him to think of God, not to be his + own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering + a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously + knocking at his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway + Yuditch pale and trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily + took in the whole position at a glance. At first, for a long + while, he refused to take it. With tears Yuditch repeated, + 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... Vassily at + last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to + Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of + crockery. He reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags + with his stick, and not noticing the hardly perceptible + difference in the sound, and by Saturday he hoped to obtain + and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, so he + did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by + Saturday Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to + win the sum from a rich neighbour at cards, and instead of + that, he lost it all. Meantime, Saturday had come; it came at + last to the turn of the bags filled with broken crocks. + Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + </p> + <p> + 'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + </p> + <p> + 'You stole the money?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then some one took the key from you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't give the key to any one.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + </p> + <p> + 'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So + you're deceiving me! For the last time I tell + you—confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and folded his + hands behind his back. + </p> + <p> + 'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. + 'A stick!' + </p> + <p> + 'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a + thief! O Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + </p> + <p> + 'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' + Yuditch articulated with effort. + </p> + <p> + 'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your + service!' + </p> + <p> + The servants came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan + Andreevitch's lips were white and twitching. He walked up and + down the room like a wild beast in a small cage. + </p> + <p> + The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + </p> + <p> + 'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to + undertake him myself, eh?' + </p> + <p> + Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + </p> + <p> + 'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last + time I tell you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + </p> + <p> + 'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood + be on my head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The + flogging began.... The door suddenly opened, and Vassily came + in. He was almost paler than his father, his hands were + shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare a row of + even, white teeth. + </p> + <p> + 'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I + took the money.' + </p> + <p> + The servants stopped. + </p> + <p> + 'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + </p> + <p> + 'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily + Ivanovitch the key of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily + Ivanovitch! why does your honour trouble?' + </p> + <p> + 'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, + Vassily, thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you + anyway. Why didn't you tell me all about it directly? Hey, + you there! why are you standing still? do you too resist my + authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, my pretty + gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + </p> + <p> + The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + </p> + <p> + 'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The + men did not heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon + them.... They stepped back. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his + stick, he approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched + at the handle of his sword, and bared it to half its length. + Every one was trembling. Anna Pavlovna, attracted by the + noise, showed herself at the door, pale and scared. + </p> + <p> + A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. + He tottered, dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an + arm-chair, hiding his face in both hands. No one stirred, all + stood rooted to the spot, Vassily like the rest. He clutched + the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his eyes glittered + with a weary, evil light.... + </p> + <p> + 'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in + a low voice, not taking his hands from his face. + </p> + <p> + The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, + then suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his + mother's hand... and two hours later he had left the place. + He went back to Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the + steps of the house serfs' hut. The servants were all round + him, sympathising with him and bitterly reproaching their + young master. + </p> + <p> + 'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... + why do you abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare + say is not very happy at his audacity....' + </p> + <p> + In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father + again. Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably + with such a load of sorrow on his heart as God grant none of + us may ever know. Vassily Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into + the world, enjoyed himself in his own way, and squandered + money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I cannot tell + for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart + and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was + passionately attached to him and aided him in all his + numerous manoeuvres. I do not intend to relate in detail all + the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was possessed of such + unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such + inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I + must own I can understand the complete sway that unprincipled + person exercised even over the noblest natures. + </p> + <p> + Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, + Vassily Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He + fought a duel, seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced + to leave the capital; he was banished to his estate, and + forbidden to leave it. Vassily Ivanovitch was thirty years + old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with what feelings he + left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used to, + and came into the country. They say that he got out of the + hooded cart several times on the road, flung himself face + downwards in the snow and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would + have known him as the gay and charming Vassily Ivanovitch + they had seen before. He did not talk to any one; went out + shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid + caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in + his ridicule of his brothers, and of their wives (they were + both married by that time).... + </p> + <p> + I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga + Ivanovna. She had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; + she all but died on the road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, + as they say, in the fear of God and her betters. It must be + admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna both treated + her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint + spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily + Ivanovitch. While Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not + dare even to wonder about the cause of the strange, dumb feud + between their parents, Olga was from her earliest years + disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like + Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. + She was devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old + Lutchinov she detested, and more than once, sitting at table, + she shot such black looks at him, that even the servant + handing the dishes felt uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never + noticed these glances, for he never took the slightest notice + of his family. + </p> + <p> + At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, + but some bold questions of Olga's forced her to complete + silence. The children of Ivan Andreevitch adored Olga, and + the old lady too was fond of her, but not with a very ardent + affection. + </p> + <p> + Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and + every strong feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear + a proof of Vassily's captivating charm as that he had made + even his mother love him passionately. Demonstrations of + tenderness on the part of children were not in the spirit of + the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that Olga did not + dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna + Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said + good-night to her. Twenty years later, Russian girls began to + read romances of the class of <i>The Adventures of Marquis + Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the Cottage in the + Forest</i>; they began to play the clavichord and to sing + songs in the style of the once very well-known: + </p> + <pre> + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. +</pre> + <p> + But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born + in 1757) our country beauties had no notion of such + accomplishments. It is difficult for us now to form a clear + conception of the Russian miss of those days. We can indeed + judge from our grandmothers of the degree of culture of girls + of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is one to + distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of + their long lives from what they were in the days of their + youth? + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong + Russian accent: in her day there was as yet no talk of French + emigrants. In fact, with all her fine qualities, she was + still pretty much of a savage, and I dare say in the + simplicity of her heart, she had more than once chastised + some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + </p> + <p> + Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna + had been betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch + Rogatchov, a very good-natured and straightforward fellow. + Nature had forgotten to put any spice of ill-temper into his + composition. His own serfs did not obey him, and would + sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and leave + poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could + trouble the peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been + stout and indolent, had never been in the government service, + and was fond of going to church and singing in the choir. + Look, gentlemen, at this round, good-natured face; glance at + this mild, beaming smile... don't you really feel it + reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals to + drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with + him his Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every + possible way. Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on + Ivan Andreevitch on his own account, fell in love with Olga + Ivanovna, and offered her his hand and heart—not to her + personally, but to her benefactors. Her benefactors gave + their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga + Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the + words of my grandmother, 'such refinements were not the + thing.' Olga soon got used to her betrothed, however; it was + impossible not to feel fond of such a gentle and amiable + creature. Rogatchov had received no education whatever; his + French consisted of the one word <i>bonjour</i>, and he + secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose + person had taught him the following lines, as a French song: + 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa—I adore + you—me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed song he always + used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His + father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore + a long nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded + with a smile. From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's + betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, father and son, had been + tremendously busy. They had been having their house entirely + transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a friendly + way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had + not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put + off the wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan + Andreevitch died; the wedding was deferred till the following + spring. In the winter Vassily Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov + was presented to him; he received him coldly and + contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by + his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a + leaf at the very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled + nervously. Vassily once almost annihilated him + altogether—by making him a bet, that he, Rogatchov, was + not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost + cried with, embarrassment, but—actually!—a smile, + a stupid, nervous smile refused to leave his perspiring face! + Vassily toyed deliberately with the ends of his neckerchief, + and looked at him with supreme contempt. Pavel + Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, and + after an interval of a few days—'for the sake of + greater formality'—he sallied off to Lutchinovka with + the object of 'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent + to the halls of his ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed + all over the countryside for his eloquence—that is to + say, for his capacity for enunciating without faltering a + rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of + bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not + sustain his reputation; he was even more disconcerted than + his son, Pavel Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite + inarticulate, and though he had never been used to taking + vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to carry things + off'—he found Vassily at lunch,—tried at least to + clear his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in + making the slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel + Afanasievitch whispered to his parent, 'Well, father?' + Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a whisper, 'Don't + speak of it!' + </p> + <p> + The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at + Lutchinovka. Though indeed they were not the only people + intimidated by Vassily; he awakened in his own brothers, in + their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an instinctive feeling + of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid him in + every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but + apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to + them. Suddenly, at the beginning of the spring, he became + once more the charming, attractive person they had known of + old... + </p> + <p> + The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's + unexpected visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in + particular, was fairly disconcerted at the sight of + Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very quickly vanished. + Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. He took + young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new + buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, + with his own hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, + asked to be shown Afanasey Lukitch's stud horses, himself + trotted them out on a halter, and altogether so affected the + good-hearted children of the steppes by his gracious + affability that they both embraced him more than once. At + home, too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to + turn every one's head just as before. He contrived all sorts + of laughable games, got hold of musicians, invited the ladies + and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, told the old ladies the + scandals of the town in the most amusing way, flirted a + little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, + fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every + thing and every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the + Lutchinovs was suddenly converted into a noisy, brilliant, + enchanted palace of which the whole countryside was talking. + This sudden transformation surprised many and delighted all. + All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. Sagacious + persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been + crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw + chances of returning to the capital... but the true cause of + Vassily Ivanovitch's metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her + beauty consisted rather in the extraordinary softness and + freshness of her shape, in the quiet grace of her movements + than in the strict regularity of her features. Nature had + bestowed on her a certain independence; her bringing + up—she had grown up without father or mother—had + developed in her reserve and determination. Olga did not + belong to the class of quiet and tame-spirited young ladies; + but only one feeling had reached its full possibilities in + her as yet—hatred for her benefactor. Other more + feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's + heart with abnormal and painful violence... but she had not + the cold pride, nor the intense strength of will, nor the + self-centred egoism, without which any passion passes quickly + away. + </p> + <p> + The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive + natures is sometimes extremely violent; but they give way + very quickly, especially when it is a question of relentless + conformity with accepted principles; they are afraid of + consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly confess, + women of that sort always make the strongest impression on + me. ... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. + Rubbish! rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; + nothing in the world makes a strong impression on you, my + dear fellow!) + </p> + <p> + Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in + race. Olga Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her + foster sister, Natalia. How did this blood show itself, do + you ask? Why, in everything; in the lines of her hands, in + her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her glance, in her + carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In all + these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am + bound to admit that the—how can one express + it?—<i>la distinction</i>, which had fallen to Olga + Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's notice + had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the + wilds, she not only caught his attention, she was positively + the sole cause of the transformation of which I have just + been speaking. + </p> + <p> + Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy + life; he could not but be bored in the country; his brothers + were good-natured fellows, but extremely limited people: he + had nothing in common with them. His sister, Natalia, with + the assistance of her husband, had brought into the world in + the course of three years no less than four babies; between + her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to + church, prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. + There remained only Olga—a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... + Vassily did not notice her at first... indeed, who does + notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from charity in the + house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, Vassily + was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off + the heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, + which come out first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon + as they begin to grow green. He was walking in the garden in + front of the house; he lifted his head, and caught sight of + Olga Ivanovna. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a + tabby kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, + and with great satisfaction held up her little nose into the + rather hot spring sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white + morning gown, with short sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, + girlish shoulders and arms were a picture of freshness and + health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her thick, + soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was + only just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so + charmingly; there was such seductive negligence, such modesty + in the restful pose of her figure, free from corsets, that + Vassily Ivanovitch (a great connoisseur!) halted + involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred to him that + Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive + ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very + sweet and charming woman. He stole up to the window, + stretched up on tiptoe, and imprinted a silent kiss on Olga + Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little below the elbow. + </p> + <p> + Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the + air and leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a + smile kept her by the arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her + ears; he began to rally her on her alarm... invited her to + come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became suddenly + conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than + the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + </p> + <p> + The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was + suddenly happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love + with Olga, no! the word 'love' is not to be used lightly.... + He had found an occupation, had set himself a task, and + rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did not even + remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's + betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was + fully aware that it was not for her to be his wife.... + Possibly there was passion to excuse him—not a very + elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a fairly strong + and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like a + boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very + well what he wanted and what he was striving for. + </p> + <p> + Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in + the shortest time, any one however shy or prejudiced against + him. Olga soon ceased to be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch + led her into a new world. He ordered a clavichord for her, + gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly well on the + flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with + her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head + turned completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew + how to tell her of what had been till then unknown to her, + and to tell her in a language she could understand. Olga + little by little gained courage to express all her feelings + to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the words she + could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her + back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily + busied himself with her education from no disinterested + desire to awaken and develop her talents. He simply wanted to + draw her a little closer to himself; and he knew too that an + innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more easily seduced + through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an + exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for + he treated her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, + there was nothing specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried + all he could to work on her imagination, and often in the + evening she left his side with such a whirl of new images, + phrases and ideas in her head that she could not sleep all + night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning + cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went + to the window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark + distance. Vassily filled every moment of her life; she could + not think of any one else. As for Rogatchov, she soon + positively ceased to notice his existence. Vassily had the + tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; but + he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or + arranged some noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a + boating party by night with torches and music—he did + not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a chance to think + clearly. + </p> + <p> + But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov + dimly felt that he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had + somehow become as it were an outsider to her... but in the + boundless goodness of his heart, he was afraid of wounding + her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and prized + her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what + to say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two + months passed by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, + disappeared at last in Olga. Rogatchov, feeble and + tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had no wish even + to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she + surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of + the bliss of love; but it was not for long. Though + Vassily—for lack of other occupation—did not drop + her, and even attached himself to her and looked after her + fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she found + no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away + from Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did + not dare to think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, + and was devoured by misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in + carrying her along with him and making her forget everything + and every one. But the very next day he would find her pale, + speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on her lips.... + There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but no + difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a + skilled gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga + Ivanovna; she was continually betraying herself, turning + pale, blushing, weeping... her new part was utterly beyond + her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his restless and + boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have + detected something strained and feverish. He played his + brothers, sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns + at chess. He was everlastingly on the alert. Not a single + glance, a single movement, was lost on him, yet he appeared + the most heedless of men. Every morning he faced the fray, + and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the least + oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four + hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was + healthy, fresh, and good-humoured. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded + in persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of + delay. Then he despatched him to Moscow to make various + purchases, while he was himself in correspondence with + friends in Petersburg. He took all this trouble, not so much + from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural bent and + liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning + to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a + violent outbreak of passion for her, he would look at her, as + he sometimes did at Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a + riddle to every one. In the coldness of his relentless soul + you felt the presence of a strange almost southern fire, and + even in the wildest glow of passion a breath of icy chill + seemed to come from the man. + </p> + <p> + Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But + when they were alone, he played with her like a cat with a + mouse, or frightened her with sophistries, or was wearily, + malignantly bored, or again flung himself at her feet, swept + her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and there was no + feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was + moved himself. + </p> + <p> + One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting + alone in his room, attentively reading over the last letters + he had received from Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a + faint creak at the door, and Olga Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, + came in. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + </p> + <p> + 'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing + there for?' he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + </p> + <p> + 'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants + to see you,' she said. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what's the matter?' + </p> + <p> + 'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + </p> + <p> + Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and + went in to Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, + pale and passive. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + </p> + <p> + Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + </p> + <p> + He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... + She tried to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman + had no possible doubt of her condition left her. + </p> + <p> + Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a + couple of steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily + cautiously sat down by Olga, kissed and chafed her hands, + comforted her in whispers. She listened to him, and silently, + faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, stealthily + wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even + ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. + Olga Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and + stifled sobs. Tears are like a storm; after them one is + always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna had quieted down a little, + and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, like a child, + Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender promises, + soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her + to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote + two or three letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a + gold locket containing the portrait of a black-browed, + black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous face, scrutinised + her features slowly, and walked up and down the room + pondering. + </p> + <p> + Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor + Olga's red and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After + breakfast he proposed a stroll in the garden to her. Olga + followed Vassily, like a submissive sheep. When two hours + afterwards she came in from the garden she quite broke down; + she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down + on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable + show of remorse, informed her that he was secretly + married—he was really as much a bachelor as I am. Olga + Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon—people don't fall + into swoons except on the stage—but she turned all at + once stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to + marry Vassily Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think + about it. Vassily had begun to explain to her the + inevitableness of her parting from him and marrying + Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. + Vassily talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, + blamed himself, expressed his regret, but concluded all his + remarks with the following words: 'There's no going back on + the past; we've got to act.' + </p> + <p> + Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and + shame; a dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for + death, and waited in agony for Vassily's decision. + </p> + <p> + 'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at + last. + </p> + <p> + Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust + to me, I won't desert you... I will make everything right... + rely upon me.' + </p> + <p> + The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and + deep, but hopeless devotion. + </p> + <p> + 'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her + at parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly + hands.... + </p> + <p> + Next morning—Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her + bed—her door opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in + the doorway. She was supported by Vassily. In silence she got + as far as an arm-chair, and in silence she sat down. Vassily + stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows were knitted + and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, indignant, + angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga + Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her + lover, with a terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on + her knees with a shriek in the middle of the room, and hid + her face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and + bent down to her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching + Olga by the arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me + not to be hard on her.' + </p> + <p> + 'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + </p> + <p> + 'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + </p> + <p> + This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in + her chair, and burst into sobs. + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung + herself at the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, + raised her from the ground, and led her to another arm-chair. + Anna Pavlovna went on weeping and muttering disconnected + words.... + </p> + <p> + 'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the + trouble may yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + </p> + <p> + 'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at + Olga Ivanovna, 'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable + family with impunity...' + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + </p> + <p> + 'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + </p> + <p> + 'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, + her youth, he—you wish to say something'—he broke + off, seeing that Olga made a movement towards him.... + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + </p> + <p> + 'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her + this very day. You may be sure I will not let him make a + laughing-stock of us....' + </p> + <p> + 'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + </p> + <p> + He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence + again. + </p> + <p> + 'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. + Look, she is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon + me; I answer for everything; in any case, wait till I return. + I tell you again, don't torture her, or yourself, and trust + to me.' + </p> + <p> + He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come + with me, leave her alone, I beg of you.' + </p> + <p> + Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down + to the ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, + without a word or a movement, looked after them. + </p> + <p> + Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in + her ear, 'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once + withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' he called, running swiftly down the + stairs, 'Bourcier!' + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage + with his valet. + </p> + <p> + That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to + the district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his + servants. Pavel Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, + looking through a collection of faded butterflies. With + lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was carefully, with a + pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night sphinx' moth, + when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on his + shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some + amazement. + </p> + <p> + Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at + Vassily, and subsided with his mouth open and his hands + clasped. + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are + you meaning to dance at your <i>wedding soon?</i>' + </p> + <p> + 'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and + your sister ... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel + Afanasievitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I + know all; you understand me, and I order you without delay + to-morrow to marry Olga.' + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from + his seat; 'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of + myself and there's no need to give me orders.... I confess, + Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite understand you.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand me?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, really, I don't understand you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself + put off our wedding more than once? Except for you it would + have taken place long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking + it off. What is the meaning of your threats, your + insistence?' + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me... I will... but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who has confessed?' + </p> + <p> + 'Olga Ivanovna.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what has she confessed?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? + I'm not a stranger to you.' + </p> + <p> + 'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I + positively don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna + confess?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + </p> + <p> + 'May God slay me...' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you + understand?' + </p> + <p> + 'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing + Vassily. 'Olga Ivanovna... you tell me...' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'—Vassily + with a smile patted him on the shoulder—'though you do + look so innocent.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you + mean, explain, for God's sake!' + </p> + <p> + Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + </p> + <p> + Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + </p> + <p> + Vassily stamped. + </p> + <p> + 'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... your betrothed...' + </p> + <p> + 'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I + never wish to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. + 'Good-bye to her for ever! What do you take me for? I'm being + duped... I'm being duped... Olga Ivanovna, how wrong of you, + have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from his eyes.) 'Thanks, + Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never wish to see + her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful + Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, + very well!' + </p> + <p> + 'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. + 'Remember, you've given me your word: the wedding's + to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I + say again, what do you take me for? You do me too much + honour. I'm humbly obliged. Excuse me.' + </p> + <p> + 'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sword... what for?' + </p> + <p> + 'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + </p> + <p> + Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it + a little against the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'You want... to fight... me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Precisely so.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can + I, only think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man + of honour, Vassily Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so + good as to fight with me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + </p> + <p> + 'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You + thought you would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare + him, you thought, he's a coward, and he'll agree to anything + directly... No, Vassily Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much + as you are, though I've not had city breeding, and you won't + succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Get me the sword—there—you know, in the loft... + make haste....' + </p> + <p> + Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became + exceedingly pale, hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put + on a reddish coat with big paste buttons... twisted a cravat + round his neck... Vassily looked at him, and twiddled the + fingers of his right hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + </p> + <p> + 'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and + hurriedly buttoned up his shirt. + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... + what is it to you... And believe me, I'll...' + </p> + <p> + 'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll + kill me or maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my + honour; if I'm to die then I must die.' + </p> + <p> + Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old + sword in a torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen + wore swords with powder, but in the steppes they only put on + powder twice a year. Eroshka moved away to the door and burst + out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed him out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some + embarrassment, 'I can't fight with you on the spot: allow me + to put off our duel till to-morrow. My father is not at home, + and it would be as well for me to put my affairs in order + to—to be ready for anything.' + </p> + <p> + 'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + </p> + <p> + 'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of + patience.... Either give me your word to marry her at once, + or fight...or I'll thrash you with my cane like a + coward,—do you understand?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + </p> + <p> + But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, + utterly distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees + before Rogatchov, and clasped his legs.... + </p> + <p> + 'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it + you are about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, + your honour? Sure, he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the + word, you say the word, and we'll make an end of him, the + insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, my baby-boy, for the + love of God!' + </p> + <p> + A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there + was even the red beard of the village elder... + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + </p> + <p> + 'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are + you about? What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us + all out of the light of day.... Why are you fellows standing + still? Take the uninvited guest in hand and show him out of + the house, so that not a trace be left of him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + </p> + <p> + 'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' + said Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, + and you others, off with you, do you hear?...' + </p> + <p> + Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out + a small silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered + from close by. Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel + Afanasievitch. + </p> + <p> + 'What's to be the end of this farce?' + </p> + <p> + 'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I + do with this crazy old woman?...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, + and he swiftly raised his cane... + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, + snatched up the sword, and rushed through another door into + the garden. + </p> + <p> + Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, + painted cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves + in, and drew their swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons + in fencing, but now he was scarcely capable of drawing a + sword properly. The blades crossed. Vassily was obviously + playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel Afanasievitch was + breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into + Lutchinov's face. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of + people were running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov + heard the heart-rending wail of old age...he recognised the + voice of his father. Afanasey Lukitch, bare-headed, with + dishevelled hair, was running in front of them all, + frantically waving his hands.... + </p> + <p> + With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent + the sword flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this + foolery!' + </p> + <p> + 'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his + eyes, and shook all over. + </p> + <p> + Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the + summerhouse. + </p> + <p> + 'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + </p> + <p> + Rogatchov shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, damn you, then!' + </p> + <p> + Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed + him to the heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst + into the summerhouse, but Vassily had already jumped out of + window... + </p> + <p> + Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She + rushed in terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; + took out his sword and pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait + in the place of the heart. Olga shrieked and fell unconscious + on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna Pavlovna. He found + her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are avenged.' The + poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + </p> + <p> + Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two + years later he came back stricken with + paralysis—tongue-tied. He found neither Anna Pavlovna + nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of + Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who + could understand his incoherent stuttering. + </p> + <p> + 1846. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="5"></a> + <h2> + ENOUGH + </h2> + <h3> + A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + </h3> + <h4> + I + </h4> + <h4> + II + </h4> + <h4> + III + </h4> + <p> + 'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over + the steep mountainside down to the quiet little brook. + 'Enough,' I said again, as I drank in the resinous fragrance + of the pinewood, strong and pungent in the freshness of + falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat on the + mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, + lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their + pale green blades.... 'Enough.' + </p> + <p> + No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to + keep firm hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No + more to brood over the voluptuous sweetness of vague, + seductive ecstasy, no more to run after each fresh form of + beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of her delicate, + strong wings. + </p> + <p> + All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. + What to me now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than + ever, the sunset floods the heavens as though aflame with + some triumphant passion? What to me that, amid the soft peace + and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces hence, hidden in a + thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung his heart + out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on + earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first + love? All this was, has been, has been again, and is a + thousand times repeated—and to think that it will last + on so to all eternity—as though decreed, + ordained—it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + </p> + <h4> + IV + </h4> + <p> + Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me + once—in those happy days of old, when I too was aflame + like the sunset and my heart sang like the nightingale. + </p> + <p> + There is no hiding it—everything has faded about me, + all life has paled. The light that gives life's colours depth + and meaning—the light that comes out of the heart of + man—is dead within me.... No, not dead yet—it + feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + </p> + <p> + Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to + the grating window of an old church, and leaned against the + faulty pane. It was dark under the low arched roof—a + forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon the ancient + picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the sacred + face—stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered + about it, ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the + feeble ray of impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the + light; and such the darkness. + </p> + <h4> + V + </h4> + <p> + And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten + friend, to thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for + ever, but shall not cease to love till my life's end.... + Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But that I have no wish to + speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, in these + wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and + through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I + feel the sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + </p> + <p> + For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence + in which I am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on + all my past... our past.... No hope and no return; but no + bitterness is in my heart and no regret, and clearer than the + blue of heaven, purer than the first snow on mountain tops, + fair memories rise up before me like the forms of departed + gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow + procession they follow one another like those draped Athenian + figures we admired so much—dost thou remember?—in + the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + </p> + <h4> + VI + </h4> + <p> + I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, + and sheds brightness on all around him... I long to talk with + thee of the time when in my heart too that light burned + bright with blessing... Listen... and I will fancy thee + sitting before me, gazing up at me with those eyes—so + fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to + be forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his + heart thy glance—that glance that seems to flow from + depths unknown even as mysterious springs—like ye, both + clear and dark—that gush out into some narrow, deep + ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + </p> + <h4> + VII + </h4> + <p> + It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I + had seen thee for the first time and—not yet dreaming + of what thou wouldst be to me—already, silently, + secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to cross one of + the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, + but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. + The snow was melting everywhere—steadily but slowly; + there was the running of water on all sides; a noiseless wind + strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky alike were steeped in + one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was there + light; not one object stood out clear in the general + whiteness, everything looked both close and indistinct. I + left my cart far behind and walked swiftly over the ice of + the river, and except the muffled thud of my own steps heard + not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides by the first + breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually + gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, + a glad tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within + me... it drew me on, it hastened me, and so strong was the + flood of gladness within me, that I stood still at last and + with questioning eyes looked round me, as I would seek some + outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, white, + slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated + a flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome + spring!' I shouted aloud: 'welcome, life and love and + happiness!' And at that instance, with sweetly troubling + shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image blossomed + aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and + radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only—that I + am all filled full of thee.... + </p> + <h4> + VIII + </h4> + <p> + I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures + float before me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my + life I meet thee. Now an old Russian garden rises up before + me on the slope of a hillside, lighted up by the last rays of + the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars peeps out the + wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish + smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate + stands just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with + faltering hand; and I stand and wait and gaze at that gate + and the sand of the garden path—wonder and rapture in + my heart. All that I behold seems new and different; over all + a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already I catch + the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a + bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my + heart burns and shudders in joyous dread before the + approaching, the alighting rapture.... + </p> + <h4> + IX + </h4> + <p> + Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. + In rows kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful + chill, of something grave and melancholy is wafted from the + high, bare roof, from the huge, branching columns. Thou + standest at my side, mute, apart, as though knowing me not. + Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved in + stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the + stained windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, + violently thrilling the incense-clouded air, thrilling us + within, rolled out the mighty flood of the organ's notes... + and I saw thee paler, rigid—thy glance caressed me, + glided higher and rose heavenwards—while to me it + seemed none but an immortal soul could look so, with such + eyes... + </p> + <h4> + X + </h4> + <p> + Another picture comes back to me. + </p> + <p> + No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; + the low walls of a little snug room shut us off from the + whole world. What am I saying? We are alone, alone in the + whole world; except us two there is nothing + living—outside these friendly walls darkness and death + and emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not + the rain streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, + his sightless eyes are weeping. But with us all is peaceful + and light and warm and welcoming; something droll, something + of childish innocence, like a butterfly—isn't it + so?—flutters about us. We nestle close to one another, + we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I + feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear + that thou livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is + born on my face before it is on thine, thou makest mute + answer to my mute question, thy thoughts, my thoughts are + like the two wings of one bird, lost in the infinite blue... + the last barriers have fallen—and so soothed, so + deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished + that we have no need for word or look to pass between us.... + Only to breathe, to breathe together is all we want, to be + together and scarcely to be conscious that we are + together.... + </p> + <h4> + XI + </h4> + <p> + Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September + when we walked through the deserted, still flowering garden + of a forsaken palace on the bank of a great river—not + Russian—under the soft brilliance of the cloudless sky. + Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly flowing + river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of + voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the + unfamiliar monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws + in the high sun-lit treetops, and the tender words and smiles + and looks, long, soft, piercing to the very in-most soul, and + the beauty, beauty in our lives, about us, on all + sides—it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat + in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of + feeling—I cannot forget it till the hour I die! How + delicious were those few strangers passing us with brief + greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet boats floating + by (in one—dost thou remember?—stood a horse + pensively gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of + the tiny ripples by the bank, and the very bark of the + distant dogs across the water, the very shouts of the fat + officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, with + outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We + both felt that better than those moments nothing in the world + had been or would be for us, that all else... But why + compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: enough. + </p> + <h4> + XII + </h4> + <p> + For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid + them farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, + his gold, his bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, + grey earth; so the wick of a smouldering lamp flickers up in + a last bright flare and sinks into cold ash. The wild + creature has peeped out from its hole for the last time at + the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and + has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to + sleep. Will he have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun + and the grass and the blue kindly water?... + </p> + <h4> + XIII + </h4> + <p> + Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at + the first, absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in + ourselves, we are not aware of her harsh hand. While one can + be deceived and has no shame in lying, one can live and there + is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full truth, of that, + indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can reach + locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the + No.' Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall + to pieces, not to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... + of self-contempt,—calmly to turn away from all, to say + 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon the empty breast, to + save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, the dignity + of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal + hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the + whole universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher + than the universe, because he would know it was crushing him, + and it would know it not. A poor dignity! A sorry + consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by it, to have + faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and + there's no refuting those words of menace: + </p> + <pre> + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' +</pre> + <p> + I quoted these lines from <i>Macbeth</i>, and there came back + to my mind the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no + ghosts, no fantastic, unearthly powers are terrible; there + are no terrors in the Hoffmann world, in whatever form it + appears.... What is terrible is that there is nothing + terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, + uninteresting and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked + through and through with that knowledge, once one has tasted + of that bitter, no honey more seems sweet, and even the + highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of perfect + nearness, of complete devotion—even that loses all its + magic; all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its + brevity. Yes; a man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of + eternal bliss, of undying raptures, and lo, no trace is left + of the very worm that devoured the last relic of his withered + tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, when all is + lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare + forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the + fog and turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once + the gnats swarm up on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, + bustle, flutter up and down, circle round one another... The + sun is hidden—the gnats fall in a feeble shower, and + there is the end of their momentary life. + </p> + <h4> + XIV + </h4> + <p> + But are there no great conceptions, no great words of + consolation: patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; + those words there are, and many men live by them and for + them. And yet it seems to me that if Shakespeare could be + born again he would have no cause to retract his Hamlet, his + Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in + human life: still the same motley picture—in reality so + little complex—would unroll before him in its + terrifying sameness. The same credulity and the same cruelty, + the same lust of blood, of gold, of filth, the same vulgar + pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the name... why, + in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered + at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which + the many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, + the same workings of power, the same traditions of + slavishness, the same innateness of falsehood—in a + word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old + unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear + repeating his cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words + means: 'None is without offence.' and he too would say + 'enough!' he too would turn away. One thing perhaps, may be: + in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, the great + poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the + tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own + virtue, and sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too + sumptuous a dinner at the very time when his half-crushed + victims try to find comfort in picturing him, like Richard, + haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + </p> + <p> + But to what end? + </p> + <p> + Why prove—picking out, too, and weighing words, + smoothing and rounding off phrases—why prove to gnats + that they are really gnats? + </p> + <h4> + XV + </h4> + <p> + But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they + are more powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. + Venus of Milo is, may be, more real than Roman law or the + principles of 1789. It may be objected—how many times + has the retort been heard!—that beauty itself is + relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other + than the European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of + art confounds me; its transitoriness, again its brevity, its + dust and ashes—that is what robs me of faith and + courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, may be, than + nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no picture + of Ruysdäel, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted + pedants or disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art + is the imitation of nature. But at the end of all, nature is + inexorable; she has no need to hurry, and sooner or later she + takes her own. Unconsciously and inflexibly obedient to laws, + she knows not art, as she knows not freedom, as she knows not + good; from all ages moving, from all ages changing, she + suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is her + child; but man's work—art—is hostile to her, just + because it strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the + child of nature; but she is the universal mother, and she has + no preferences; all that exists in her lap has arisen only at + the cost of something else, and must in its time yield its + place to something else. She creates destroying, and she + cares not whether she creates or she destroys—so long + as life be not exterminated, so long as death fall not short + of his dues.... And so just as serenely she hides in mould + the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus as the simplest pebble, + and gives the vile worm for food the priceless verse of + Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work + of of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the + force of nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian + recklessly smashing the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage + yells with which he casts in the fire the picture of Apelles? + How are we, poor folks, poor artists to be a match for this + deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her + conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How + stand against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, + unceasingly moving upward? How have faith in the value and + dignity of the fleeting images, that in the dark, on the edge + of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an instant? + </p> + <h4> + XVI + </h4> + <p> + All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, + said Schiller; and nature in the incessant play of her + rising, vanishing forms is not averse to beauty. Does not she + carefully deck the most fleeting of her children—the + petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly—in + the fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite + lines? Beauty needs not to live for ever to be + eternal—one instant is enough for her. Yes; that may be + is true—but only there where personality is not, where + man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing + spoiled appears again and again for a thousand years as the + same wing of the same butterfly; there sternly, fairly, + impersonally necessity completes her circle... but man is not + repeated like the butterfly, and the work of his hands, his + art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for + ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but + strange and dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... + for one hour—as there was, in the tale, a caliph for an + hour. In this is our pre-eminence—and our curse; each + of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even this + <i>I</i> is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on + lines laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware + of his significance, is aware that he is innately something + noble, eternal—and lives, and must live in the moment + and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, my friend, and aspire + to the skies! The greatest among us are just those who more + deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; + though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as + greatest, great? + </p> + <p> + [Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's + words to Faust:— + </p> + <pre> + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht— + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + —AUTHOR'S NOTE.] +</pre> + <h4> + XVII + </h4> + <p> + What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one + cannot apply such terms, even in the sense given them by the + feeble tongue of man? What can one say of the ordinary, + common, second-rate, third-rate toilers—whatsoever they + may be—statesmen, men of science, artists—above + all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb + indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the + field of battle, if once the conception has stolen into their + brains of the nullity of everything human, of every sort of + effort that sets before itself a higher aim than the mere + winning of bread? By what crowns can they be lured for whom + laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what end will + they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the + judgment of the fool'—of the old fool who cannot + forgive them from turning away from the old bogies—of + the young fool who would force them to kneel with him, to + grovel with him before the new, lately discovered idols? Why + should they go back again into that jostling crowd of + phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat + each other alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is + paltry and worthless? Why 'with impotence in their bones' + should they struggle back into that world where the peoples, + like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in the mire for + handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed + adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that + world where only that is living which has no right to live, + and each, stifling self with his own shouting, hurries + feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended goal? No... no.... + Enough... enough... enough! + </p> + <h4> + XVIII + </h4> + <p> + ...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the + original.—TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + </p> + <p> + 1864. + </p> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 8696-h.htm or 8696-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/6/9/8696/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Posting Date: April 5, 2014 [EBook #8696] +Release Date: August, 2005 +First Posted: August 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + +BY IVAN TURGENEV + + + +_Translated from the Russian_ +_By CONSTANCE GARNETT_ + + + + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK +WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV +SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the childish +attitude of certain English men of letters to the novel in general, +their depreciation of its influence and of the public's 'inordinate' +love of fiction. Many men of letters to-day look on the novel as a mere +story-book, as a series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their +'idle hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, and +poetry as the age's _serious_ contribution to literature. Whereas +the reverse is the case. The most serious and significant of all +literary forms the modern world has evolved is the novel; and brought to +its highest development, the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour +of being the supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + +To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden marked out +for the crowd's diversion--a field of recreation adorned here and there +by the masterpieces of a few great men--argues in the modern critic +either an academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed +obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama in all but +two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by artists as a coarse +playground for the great public's romps and frolics, but the novel can +be preserved exactly so long as the critics understand that to exercise +a delicate art is the one _serious_ duty of the artistic life. It +is no more an argument against the vital significance of the novel that +tens of thousands of people--that everybody, in fact--should to-day +essay that form of art, than it is an argument against poetry that for +all the centuries droves and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and +rhymesters have succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in +worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be vindicated +in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm of critics in stripping +bare the false, and in hailing as the true all that is animated by the +living breath of beauty. The true function of the novel! That can only +be supported by those who understand that the adequate representation +and criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men were the +novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned to the mass of vulgar +standards. That the novel is the most insidious means of mirroring human +society Cervantes in his great classic revealed to seventeenth-century +Europe. Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great +realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century that the +novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their days to the days of +Henry James the form of the novel has been adapted by European genius to +the exact needs, outlook, and attitude to life of each successive +generation. To the French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must +be given the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has +become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, however, +reserved for the youngest of European literatures, for the Russian +school, to raise the novel to being the absolute and triumphant +expression by the national genius of the national soul. + +Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best defined by saying +that while he stands as a great classic in the ranks of the great +novelists, along with Richardson, Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, +Thackeray, Meredith, Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest +of them all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been +recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both wider in +its range and more beautiful in its form than the work of any modern +European artist. The novel modelled by Turgenev's hands, the Russian +novel, became _the_ great modern instrument for showing 'the very +age and body of the time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life +in all its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the same +time to assess its values by the great poetic insight that reveals man's +relations to the universe around him,--that is an art only transcended +by Shakespeare's own in its unique creation of a universe of great human +types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we see that if +he has made the novel both more delicate and more powerful than their +example shows it, it is because as the supreme artist he filled it with +the breath of poetry where others in general spoke the word of prose. +Turgenev's horizon always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and +Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev speaks for the +nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an endless stream of human +figures, Turgenev's characters reveal themselves as wider apart in the +range of their spirit, as more mysteriously alive in their inevitable +essence, than do Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or +Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in _War and +Peace_, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole generation, +Turgenev in _Fathers and Children_ concentrates in the few words of +a single character, Bazarov, the essence of modern science's attitude to +life, that scientific spirit which has transformed both European life +and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further parallels +between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England alone, perhaps, is it +necessary to say to the young novelist that the novel can become +anything, can be anything, according to the hands that use it. In its +application to life, its future development can by no means be gauged. +It is the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief method +to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. If you love your +art, if you would exalt it, treat it absolutely seriously. If you would +study it in its highest form, the form the greatest artist of our time +has perfected--remember Turgenev. + +EDWARD GARNETT. + +November 1899. + + + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE JEW + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + +THE DUELLIST + +THREE PORTRAITS + +ENOUGH + + + + + + + +THE JEW + + +...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai Ilyitch. + +The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke between his +moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, looked at us and +considered. We all had the greatest liking and respect for Nikolai +Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, common sense, and kindly indulgence +to us young fellows. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; +his dark face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: Lermontov +in the _Treasurer's Wife_.--AUTHOR'S NOTE.] straight-forward, +clever glance, gentle smile, manly and mellow voice--everything about +him pleased and attracted one. + +'All right, listen then,' he began. + +It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the E---- regiment of +cuirassiers, and had just, I recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It +is an exhilarating occupation--fighting; and marching too is good enough +in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a besieging army. There one sits +the whole blessed day within some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on +mud or straw, playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from +simple boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets +flying. + +At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they quickly +subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions too; we were +overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that we were ready to howl for +sheer _ennui_. I was not more than nineteen then; I was a healthy +young fellow, fresh as a daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the +fun I could out of the French... and in other ways too... you +understand what I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to +do, I fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my luck +turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I had won an +immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out into the fresh air, and +sat down on a mound. It was a splendid, calm morning; the long lines of +our fortifications were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and +then began to doze where I was sitting. + +A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me +a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey wrapper, slippers, +and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose name was Girshel, was +continually hanging about our camp, offering his services as an agent, +getting us wine, provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, +red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked incessantly +with his diminutive little eyes, which were reddish too; he had a long +crooked nose, and was always coughing. + +He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + +'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + +'Oh, I only--I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be of use to your +honour in some way...' + +'I don't want you; you can go.' + +'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there might be, +sir, something....' + +'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + +'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to +congratulate you on your success....' + +'Why, how did you know?' + +'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... immense....Oh! how +immense....' + +Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + +'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the devil's the +good of money here?' + +'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. Money's a +capital thing; always of use; you can get anything for money, your +honour; anything! anything! Only say the word to the agent, he'll get +you anything, your honour, anything! anything!' + +'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + +'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your honour doesn't +believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed his eyes and slowly wagged +his head to right and to left.... 'Oh, I know what his honour the +officer would like.... I know,... to be sure I do!' + +The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + +'Really!' + +The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + +'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel again closed +his eyes and shot out his lips. + +'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see for +yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you won't believe... +better tell me to show you... that's the thing, that's the thing!' + +I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + +'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you then....' + +Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the shoulder, but +skipped back at once as though he had been scalded. + +'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + +'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + +'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with unusual warmth, +waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... if so, your honour, you +order me to be given five hundred... four hundred and fifty lashes,' he +added hurriedly....' You give orders--' + +At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent and called +me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a gold coin. + +'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + +I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening with some +impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; our regiment marched +to the attack. The evening came on; we sat round the fires... the +soldiers cooked porridge. My comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank +tea, and listened to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of +cards--I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. Gradually the +officers dispersed to their tents; the fires began to die down; the +soldiers too dispersed, or went to sleep on the spot; everything was +still. I did not get up. My orderly squatted on his heels before the +fire, and was beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was +hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it were +waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night came on. A long +while I watched the dying flame.... The last fire went out. 'The damned +Jew was taking me in,' I thought angrily, and was just going to get up. + +'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my ear. + +I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and whispered +something. + +'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The Jew shrank +into himself, and stepped warily over the short, damp grass. I observed +on one side a motionless, muffled-up figure. The Jew beckoned to +her--she went up to him. He whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his +head several times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to +relate, I was breathless. + +'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, 'you see. +She's a little frightened at the moment, she's frightened; but I've told +her his honour the officer's a good man, a splendid man.... Don't be +frightened, don't be frightened,' he went on--'don't be frightened....' + +The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state of dreadful +confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel too was fidgeting +restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange way.... + +'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as it seemed, +Girshel obeyed. + +I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark hood off +her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by the faint, reddish, +flickering glow of the distant fire I saw the pale face of a young +Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I stood facing her, and gazed at her in +silence. She did not raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. +Girshel was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. I +waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + +'What's your name?' I said at last. + +'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the darkness the +gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped eyes and little, even, +flashing teeth. + +I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, and asked +her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat down. She was +wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, with round, chased silver +buttons, and full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round +her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. +She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a +catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed +her cold, shaking fingers. + +'Do you know Russian?' + +'Yes... a little.' + +'And do you like Russians?' + +'Yes, I like them.' + +'Then, you like me too?' + +'Yes, I like you.' + +I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly.... + +'No, no, please, sir, please...' + +'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + +She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away +with a smile, and blushed. + +I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and +softly laughed. + +'What is it?' + +She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + +Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger +at her. She ceased laughing. + +'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me sick!' + +Girshel did not go away. + +I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them in his +hand and pushed him out. + +'Your honour, me too....' she said. + +I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them like a cat. + +'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + +'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and beseeching voice. + +'What are you frightened of?' + +'I'm afraid.' + +'Oh, nonsense....' + +'No, please.' + +She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side and clasped +her hands. I let her alone. + +'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and she raised +her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I kissed it. Sara laughed +again. + +My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not know what to +do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + +I turned to her again. + +'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + +'I know.' + +'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + +Sara shook her head. + +'No, answer me properly.' + +'Well, show yourself,' she said. + +I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, began +scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not contain myself, +and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She jumped up and in one bound +was at the entrance of the tent. + +'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + +She did not speak and did not stir. + +'Come here to me....' + +'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + +Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of words to +her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + +I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get another +glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + +The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + +The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I was +playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + +'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + +'Who is it?' + +'A Jew.' + +'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the rubber, +got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + +'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your honour, are +you satisfied?' + +'Ah, you------!' (Here the colonel glanced round. 'No ladies present, I +believe.... Well, never mind, any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, +'so you're making fun of me, are you?' + +'How so?' + +'How so, indeed! What a question!' + +'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said reproachfully, but +never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young and modest.... You frightened +her, indeed, you did.' + +'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + +'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + +'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... only, +please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and leave us in +peace; do you hear?' + +Girshel's eyes sparkled. + +'What do you say? You like her?' + +'Well, yes.' + +'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. And have +you something for me now?' + +'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring her and +then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + +'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined hurriedly. +'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near the tent, your honour, +if you like; I'll... I'll go away, your honour, if you like, a +little.... I'm ready to do your honour a service.... I'll move away... +to be sure, I will.' + +'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + +'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a beauty, eh?' + +Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + +'She's good-looking.' + +'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + +I threw him a coin; we parted. + +The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting for a long +while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It struck two in the town. +I was beginning to curse the Jew.... Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I +jumped up took her in my arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold +as ice. I could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit +down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her waist.... She +did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she broke into loud, +convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to soothe her, to persuade her.... +She wept in torrents.... I caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she +did not resist, made no answer to my questions and wept--wept, like a +waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out of the tent. + +Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + +'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. Take Sara +away.' + +The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched +hold of him. + +'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each +other again some other time.' + +Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and +pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + +For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel +did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I +slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black +eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her +cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging +party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking +the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my +horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot.... + +'Mercy on us, Sara!' + +She was pale and excited. + +'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... +Your honour....' + +She recognised me and flushed red. + +'Why, do you live here?' + +'Yes.' + +'Where?' + +Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and +galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess +was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three +hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the +hens clucked and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading +their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I +heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called to my men and told +them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The +soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as +he called her, 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + +'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + +She looked at me with a smile. + +'What has become of you all this time?' + +She dropped her eyes. + +'I will come to you to-morrow.' + +'In the evening?' + +'No, sir, in the morning.' + +'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + +'No... no, I won't.' + +I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me handsomer than +ever. I remember I was particularly struck by the even, amber tint of +her face and the bluish lights in her black hair.... I bent down from my +horse and warmly pressed her little hand. + +'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + +'Yes.' + +She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the party, and +galloped off. + +The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of the tent. It +was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen and every blade of grass +was sparkling in the dew and the crimson glow. I clambered on to a high +breastwork, and sat down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, +cast-iron cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I +looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of a bent +figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I recognised Girshel. +He stood without moving for a long while in one place, then suddenly ran +a little on one side, looked hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a +cry, squatted down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round +again and listening. I could see all his actions very clearly. He put +his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and +began writing or drawing something. Girshel continually stopped, started +like a hare, attentively scrutinised everything around him, and seemed +to be sketching our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half +closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. At last, the +Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his slipper, and stuffed the +paper in it; but he had not time to regain his legs, when suddenly, ten +steps from him, there appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the +whiskered countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole +of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew stood with +his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him and laid his heavy paw +on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to shrink into himself. He shook like a +leaf and uttered a feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him +threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear their +conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the Jew, and his +supplicating appearance, I began to guess what it was. The Jew twice +flung himself at the sergeant's feet, put his hand in his pocket, pulled +out a torn check handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold +coins.... Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not +leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a sudden bound +and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in pursuit. The Jew ran +exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue stockings, flashed by, really +very rapidly; but Siliavka after a short run caught the crouching Jew, +made him stand up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I +got up and went to meet him. + +'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,--'it's a spy I'm bringing you--a +spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was streaming with perspiration. +'Stop that wriggling, devilish Jew--now then... you wretch! you'd better +look out, I'll throttle you!' + +The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into Siliavka's +chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were rolling convulsively.... + +'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + +'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his right +foot,--I can't get at it.' He was still holding the Jew in his arms. + +I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded piece of +paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our camp. On the margin +were a number of notes written in a fine hand in the Jews' language. + +Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew opened his eyes, +saw me, and flung himself on his knees before me. + +Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + +'What's this?' + +'It's---nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice broke. + +'Are you a spy?' + +He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, pressed my knees +in terror.... + +'Are you a spy?' + +'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I never did; +I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly impossible. I'm +ready--I'll--this minute--I've money to give... I'll pay for it,' he +whispered, and closed his eyes. + +The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish hair was +soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips were blue, and +working convulsively; his brows were contracted painfully; his face was +drawn.... + +Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give Girshel a good +fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his tongue, but now the affair had +become public, and could not escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + +'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + +'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of despair. 'I +am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let me go, tell him...' + +'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come along.' + +'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me--'tell him! have mercy!' + +His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a man of +German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict in his adherence +to military discipline. I went into the little house that had been +hastily put up for him, and in a few words explained the reason of my +visit. I knew the severity of the military regulations, and so I did not +even pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair before +him as something quite trifling and not worth attention. But, unhappily +for Girshel, the general put doing his duty higher than pity. + +'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, 'inexperienced +are. You in military matters yet inexperienced are. The matter, of which +you to me reported have, is important, very important.... And where is +this man who taken was? this Jew? where is he?' + +I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in the Jew. +The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + +'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's the plan +which on this man found was?' + +I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away again, +screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + +'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who arrested him?' + +'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + +'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in your defence?' + +'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... indeed,... +your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your Excellency; ask his honour the +officer.... I'm an agent, your Excellency, an honest agent.' + +'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an undertone, +wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you explain this, my friend?' +'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, I'm not guilty.' + +'That is not probable, however. You were--how is it said in +Russian?--taken on the fact, that is, in the very facts!' + +'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + +'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + +'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your Excellency!' + +The general looked at Siliavka. + +'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the +plan out of his slipper.' + +The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + +'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + +'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + +'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? +Confess....' + +'How could I?' + +'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + +The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the skirts of his +gown. + +'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief +silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor Schliekelmann?' + +They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. Girshel began +to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes seemed starting out of +his head. The adjutant came in. The general gave him the requisite +instructions. The secretary showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an +instant. Two or three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + +'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German as best I +could; 'let him off....' + +'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to you, are +inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, and me no more to +trouble.' + +Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + +'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, your +Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a daughter... have +mercy....' + +'It's no use!' + +'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, your +Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + +'You furnished no other documents?' + +'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my children... have +mercy....' + +'But you are a spy.' + +'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + +The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it. + +'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said constrainedly, with the +air of a man forced to do violence to his heart, and sacrifice his +better feelings to inexorable duty--'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg +you to draw up a report of the occurrence....' + +A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary +timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected +the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast +trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, +he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had +on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again... his +gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + +We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + +'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched creature.' + +'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, and not +without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + +'For pity's sake....' + +'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the general, +and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + +I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere, +I remained at no great distance from the general's house. + +Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and +three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could +hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned +with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a +look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the +Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood +silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to +Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at +me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, +and closed my eyes.... + +Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head +and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and +clutched at my hands. + +'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + +'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + +'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + +'To what father?' + +'My father; they are going to hang him....' + +'What! is Girshel...?' + +'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing +her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + +We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary +birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them +without speaking.... + +'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers +won't obey me.' + +Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going +round. + +'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here? +It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together; +who knows, we may persuade him.' + +Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy. + +'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your +father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + +'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + +I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + +'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, tell them +to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the general.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +Ivanov ran off. + +We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I begged, +persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara tore her hair and +rushed at the sentinels; they would not let us pass. + +Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, and ran at +breakneck pace towards the open country, to her father. I followed her. +Every one stared at us, wondering. + +We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and picture it, +gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor Girshel. I flew into a +rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw us and fell on his daughter's +neck. Sara clung to him passionately. + +The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just beginning to +thank me... I turned away. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not pardoned?' + +I did not speak. + +'No?' + +'No.' + +'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, look... she, this +girl, see--you know--she's my daughter.' + +'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! I wouldn't +for anything...' + +He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted your money, +your honour, I must own... but not for anything....' + +I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his +accomplice.... + +'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, 'I'll +command her... I... do you understand?... everything... I'll go to every +length....' + +He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him hurriedly. Sara +silently and passionately embraced him. + +The adjutant came up to us. + +'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders to place +you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the soldiers to the Jew... +'quickly.' + +Siliavka went up to the Jew. + +'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had come with +him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor girl....' + +'Of course. Certainly.' + +The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was muttering something +to her in Yiddish.... + +The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's arms, and +carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at once she broke from +their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... Siliavka stopped her. Sara +pushed him away; her face was covered with a faint flush, her eyes +flashed, she stretched out her arms. + +'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice +accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan +and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful +death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless, +bloodthirsty dogs....' + +Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up +and carried her away. + +The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had +been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was +really ludicrous, in spite of all the horror of his position. The +intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed +itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, +and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was +horrible--intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead +with terror.... + +'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a +lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know me. I'm an agent, an +honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a minute, a little minute, a tiny +minute--wait! Let me go; I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I +know, she's at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he +bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the +quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The soldiers +were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a deafening shriek, and +wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your Excellency, have pity on the unhappy +father of a family. I'll give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, +your Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare me! +have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your Excellency, the +general and commander-in-chief!' + +They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed away. + +I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the widow of +the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes of the deceased. The +general ordered a hundred roubles to be given to her. Sara I never saw +again. I was wounded; I was taken to the hospital, and by the time I was +well again, Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the +banks of the Rhine. + + + + + + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + + +Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful days... and I +would rather not recall them.... But I have made you a promise; I shall +have to tell you the whole story. Listen. + + +I + + +I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in the house +of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was eighteen; I had only +just passed from the second into the third course in the faculty 'of +Language' (that was what it was called in those days) in the Moscow +University. My aunt was a gentle, quiet woman--a widow. She lived in a +big, wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses such as, +I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. She saw hardly any +one, sat from morning till night in the drawing-room with two +companions, drank the choicest tea, played patience, and was continually +requesting that the room should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions +ran into the hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would +bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, and stepping +hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he would sprinkle the mint +with vinegar. White fumes always puffed up about his wrinkled face, and +he frowned and turned away, while the canaries in the dining-room +chirped their hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering +mint. + +I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She placed the +whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. My rooms were +furnished very elegantly, not at all like a student's rooms in fact: +there were pink curtains in the bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned +with blue rosettes, towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, +rather an annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were +calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it was, they +nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could never succeed in +forcing myself to smoke. I studied--why conceal my shortcomings?--very +lazily, especially at the beginning of the course. I went out a great +deal. My aunt had bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with +a pair of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were +rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed masses of +tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted myself no breach of +decorum, and behaved very discreetly, _en jeune homme de bonne +maison_. I would not for anything in the world have pained my kind +aunt; and besides I was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + + +II + + +From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no idea of the +science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One day in a cafe, I was +the spectator of a prolonged contest at chess, between two players, of +whom one, a fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as +playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play a match +with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, beat me easily, +three times running. + +'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a courteous +tone, noticing probably that my vanity was suffering; 'but you don't +know the openings. You ought to study a chess-book--Allgacir or Petrov.' + +'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + +'Come to me; I will give you one.' + +He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next day I went to +see him, and a week later we were almost inseparable. + + +III + + +My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. He lived +with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow of a privy +councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart and lived quite +independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He had a post in the +department of Court affairs. I became genuinely attached to him. I had +never in my life met a young man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about +him was charming and attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his +voice, and especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue +eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little nose, the +unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the light curls of soft +hair over the rather narrow, snow-white brow. Fustov's character was +remarkable for exceptional serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained +affability; he was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with +everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over anything. +Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon him; 'that's savage, +savage,' he would say with a faint shrug, half closing his golden eyes. +Marvellous were those eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed +sympathy, good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that I +noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely from their +setting, that it never changed, even when he was sipping his soup or +smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a byword between us. His +grandmother, indeed, had been a German. Nature had endowed him with all +sorts of talents. He danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a +first-rate swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books +and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of flowers or +Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the zither with feeling; +knew a number of tricks, with cards and without; and had a fair +knowledge of mechanics, physics, and chemistry; but everything only up +to a certain point. Only for languages he had no great facility: even +French he spoke rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share +in our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright sympathy +of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was attractive, +undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such importance among young people, +he did not care to enlarge, and fully deserved the nickname given him by +his comrades, 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; +there was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, though +in reality it was only manifested by his never refusing to see me when I +called. To my mind Fustov was the happiest man in the world. His life +ran so very smoothly. His mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles +all adored him, he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and +enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + + +IV + + +One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him in his +study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of panting and +splashing reached me from there. Every morning Fustov took a cold +shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter of an hour practised gymnastic +exercises, in which he had attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive +anxiety about one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did +not neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't over-excite +yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) Fustov had not yet made +his appearance, when the outer door of the room where I was waiting flew +wide open, and there walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish +uniform. He was a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a +dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. This person +stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth wide, and with a metallic +chuckle, he gave himself a smart slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up +in front as he did so. + +'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + +'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What are you up +to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' (The voice of the man +addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the same harsh, metallic note as his +laugh.) 'I've trudged all this way to give your little brother his +lesson; and he's got a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He +can't do his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + +Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again dealt +himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a check handkerchief +out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, ferociously rolling his eyes, +spat into the handkerchief, and ejaculated with the whole force of his +lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + +Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, asked us +if we were acquainted. + +'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the veteran of the +year twelve has not that honour!' + +Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran of the +year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, professor of... +various subjects.' + +'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch chimed in. 'Come +to think of it, what is there I haven't taught, and that I'm not +teaching now, for that matter! Mathematics and geography and statistics +and Italian book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear +sir?'--he pounced suddenly upon me--'ask Alexander Daviditch if I'm not +first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a poor sort of Bohemian--Czech, I +should say--if I weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is +ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't we seen you +for so long! We ought to have a little duet... ha-ha! Really!' + +'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan Demianitch,' replied +Fustov. + +'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + +When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to side in a +strange, restless way. + +'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he addressed me +again. 'But that's because you don't understand my temperament. You must +just ask our good friend here, Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about +me. What'll he tell you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, +good-hearted chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! +At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called Ivan +Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I wear my heart, as +they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all sorts I know naught about and +don't want to neither! Can't bear it! You drop in on me one day of an +evening, and you'll see for yourself. My good woman--my wife, that +is--has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and bake you... +something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't it the truth I'm +telling?' + +Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + +'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued Mr. Ratsch. +'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of his pocket and put it +up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd better be toddling on, I suppose. I've +another chick expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... +mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, at the Red +Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks to your brother's +cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen kopecks for sledge hire to +the good! Ha-ha! A very good day to you, gentlemen, till we meet +again!... Eh?... We must have a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the +passage putting on his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard +his metallic laugh. + + +V + + +'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had already set to +work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a foreigner? He speaks Russian so +fluently.' + +'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As long ago +as 1802, some prince or other brought him from abroad... in the capacity +of secretary... more likely, valet, one would suppose. He does speak +Russian fluently, certainly.' + +'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + +'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, these +Russianised Germans.' + +'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + +'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + +'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? Was he in +the militia, or what?' + +'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained in Moscow +and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + +'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + +Fustov still went on with his turning. + +'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; but that +must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received compensation from the +treasury for his losses.' + +'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in government service +then?' + +'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a petty +councillor.' + +'What's his wife like?' + +'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or butcher....' + +'And do you often go to see him?' + +'Yes.' + +'What, is it pleasant there?' + +'Rather pleasant.' + +'Has he any children?' + +'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his first wife.' + +'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + +'About five-and-twenty,' + +I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel turned more +rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his feet. + +'Is she good-looking?' + +'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and she's +altogether... a remarkable person.' + +'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special earnestness, +and to my next question he only responded by a grunt. + +'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + + +VI + + +A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to spend the +evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard and garden, in +Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky boulevard. He came out into the +passage, and meeting us with his characteristic jarring guffaw and +noise, led us at once into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a +stout lady in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. +Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been possessed of +what the French for some unknown reason call _beaute du diable_, +that is to say, freshness; but when I made her acquaintance, she +suggested involuntarily to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly +laid by the butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word +'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of cleanliness, but +everything about her, everything in the house positively shone, and +glittered; everything had been scoured, and polished, and washed: the +samovar on the round table flashed like fire; the curtains before the +windows, the table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the +little frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting there, +stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their mother, with +coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their foreheads, and red, +shapeless fingers. All the four of them had rather flat noses, large, +swollen-looking lips, and tiny, light-grey eyes. + +'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand on the +children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, Sashka and Mashka! +This one's eight, this one's seven, that one's four, and this one's only +two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! +Eh, Eleonora Karpovna?' + +'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna and she +turned away. + +'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. Ratsch +pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all baptized into the +Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon +my soul, she is, though she is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are +you Slavonic?' + +Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + +'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm a Russian +lady and all you may say....' + +'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke in Ivan +Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + +'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be sure I love +Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? And my children too +are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze ruhig mit den Fuessen!' + +Ratsch waved his hand to her. + +'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's the nobly +born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! He'll come across +the inspector one of these fine days! He'll give him a talking-to! Das +ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + +'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie wissen +wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + +I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at what induced +him to visit such people... but at that instant there came into the room +a tall girl in a black dress, the elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom +Fustov had referred.... I perceived the explanation of my friend's +frequent visits. + + +VII + + +There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something about 'a white +dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just the impression made on me +by the girl, who entered the room. Between the world surrounding her and +herself there seemed to be too little in common; she herself seemed +secretly bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the +members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, simple-hearted, +healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already careworn, face bore the +traces of depression, pride and morbidity. The others, unmistakable +plebeians, were unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but +simple; but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably +aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace of the type +characteristic of the German race; she recalled rather the children of +the south. The excessively thick, lustreless black hair, the hollow, +black, lifeless but beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the +aquiline nose, the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic +line near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, +something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the movements, +elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this would not have struck +me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near the Pretchistensky boulevard, it +simply astonished me! I got up from my seat on her entrance; she flung +me a swift, uneasy glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down +near the window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's _Oniegin_ was then fresh +in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my friend was standing +with his back to me, taking a cup of tea from the plump hands of +Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further that the girl as she came in seemed +to bring with her a breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a +statue!' was my thought. + + +VIII + + +'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let me +introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! to Susanna +Ivanovna!' + +I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too is not the +same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose slightly, without smiling +or loosening her tightly clasped hands. + +'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander Daviditch? +eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and I've got the bassoon +out of its case already. Let us make sweet music for the honourable +company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to display his Russian; he was continually +bursting out with expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast +about the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you say? +Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no objection. +'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with the music-stand! Olga, +this way with the zither! And oblige us with candles for the stands, +better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch turned round and round in the room like a +top.) 'Piotr Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, +you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not above a +whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that silly chap, Viktor? +He ought to be here to listen too! You spoil him completely, Eleonora +Karpovna.' + +Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + +'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + +'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast verstanden? +Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + +The children had promptly done as their father had told them. The +music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already mentioned that +Fustov played the zither extremely well, but that instrument has always +produced the most distressing impression upon me. I have always fancied, +and I fancy still, that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a +decrepit Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and complaints +against the merciless musician who forces it to utter sounds. Mr. +Ratsch's performance, too, was not calculated to give me much pleasure; +moreover, his face became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant +expression, while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were +just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were swearing and +threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out chokingly husky, coarse +notes one after another. I placed myself near Susanna, and waiting for a +momentary pause, I asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + +She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and pronounced +abruptly, 'Who?' + +'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + +'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + +'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have misunderstood... But +I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + +Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + +'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + +I was silent for a while. + +'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + +Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something suggesting +a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not expected nor desired +the continuation of our conversation. + +'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. +'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with startling fury, +executing the final flourishes. I turned round, caught sight of the red +neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his +projecting ears, and very disgusting I thought him. + +'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said in an +undertone. + +'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though catching my secret +hint. + +'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at something. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in her German +Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very beautifully plays the +piano, only she likes not to play the piano when she is greatly pressed +to play.' + +Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply--she did not even look at +her--only there was a faint movement of her eyes, under their dropped +lids, in her direction. From this movement alone--this movement of her +pupils--I could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna +cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again I was +delighted at something. + +Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with hesitating footsteps +approached the window, near which Susanna and I were sitting, and asked +her if she had received from Lengold's the music that he had promised to +order her from Petersburg. + +'Selections from _Robert le Diable,_' he added, turning to me, +'from that new opera that every one's making such a fuss about.' + +'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning round with her +face to the window she whispered hurriedly. 'Please, Alexander +Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me play to-day. I don't feel in the +mood a bit.' + +'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan Demianitch, +coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a first-class article! He's +a Jew, and all Jews, like all Czechs, are born musicians. Especially +Jews. That's right, isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + +In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, there +could be heard something more than his usual bantering tone--the desire +to wound was evident. So, at least, I fancied, and so Susanna understood +him. She started instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A +spot of light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and +rising quickly, she went out of the room. + +'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled after her. + +'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. 'Wenn sie +einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + +'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his heels, and +slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the _plexus solaris._ +Oh! you needn't look at me like that, Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go +at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora +Karpovna... I cure all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at +that!' + +'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter responded +with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and gracefully swaying to and +fro, looked at the husband and wife. + +'And why not be joking, mein Muetterchen?' retorted Ivan Demianitch. +'Life's given us for use, and still more for beauty, as some celebrated +poet has observed. Kolka, wipe your nose, little savage!' + + +IX + + +'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through your doing,' +I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way home with him. 'You told +me that that girl--what's her name?--Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. +Ratsch, but she's his stepdaughter.' + +'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it all the +same?' + +'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! Did you +notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews before her? Is +she... a Jewess?' + +Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow was crisp, +like salt, under our feet. + +'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he observed at +last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish extraction.' + +'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + +'Probably.' + +'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is his +stepson too?' + +'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter into other +people's affairs, and I don't like asking questions. I'm not +inquisitive.' + +I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near home, I +overtook him and peeped into his face. + +'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + +Fustov frowned. + +'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only she's very +shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. He seemed to be +regretting having made me acquainted with her. + +I said nothing and we parted. + + +X + + +Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my mornings at his +rooms had become a necessity for me. He received me cordially, as usual, +but of our visit of the previous evening--not a word! As though he had +taken water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the pages +of the last number of the _Telescope._ + +A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to be Mr. +Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been censured by his father +the evening before. + +He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked dissipated and +unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on his unclean face, and an +expression of fatigue in his swollen eyes. He was like his father, only +his features were smaller and not without a certain prettiness. But in +this very prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a +very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's coat, one +of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked of tobacco. + +'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar twitchings +of the head and shoulders which I have always noticed in spoilt and +conceited young men. 'I meant to go to the University, but here I am. +Sort of oppression on my chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across +the room, listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his +trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + +'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to each +other. We were both students, but were in different faculties. + +'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior smiled, +again not without a certain prettiness, though he showed a set of bad +teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. Yes'--he lighted a cigar and cleared +his throat--'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + +'Where's he going?' + +'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You know the +black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + +'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed Fustov. + +Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our den +yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + +'As usual.' + +'And _she_... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with his head in +my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + +'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + +'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + +Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round his head, +gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat hoarsely. + +I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as though giving +me to understand that it was no use talking to such a dolt. + + +XI + + +Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately and +through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, of a certain +Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of him, of the new +professor, R., whom he called a brute. 'Because, only fancy, what a +monstrous notion! Every lecture he begins with calling over the +students' names, and he's reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your +liberals locked up in custody!' and turning at last his full face and +whole body towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, +half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, Alexander +Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round somehow?... You play +duets with him, you know.... Here he gives me five miserable blue notes +a month.... What's the use of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he +goes on about my not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, +and then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like _some +people_.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with peculiar +emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's no use his whining +about hard times, there's no taking me in. No fear! He's made a snug +little pile!' + +Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + +'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if you like... +meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + +'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added Viktor, +scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, 'you might hand over +five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the same to you.... What's the blessed +total I owe you?' + +'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + +'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred and ten. I'll +pay it all in a lump.' + +Fustov went into the next room, brought back a twenty-five-rouble note +and handed it in silence to Viktor. The latter took it, yawned with his +mouth wide open, grumbled thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up +from the sofa. + +'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn in to the +"Italie."' + +He moved towards the door. + +Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with himself. + +'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor Ivanitch?' he asked +at last. + +Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + +'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets one. An +awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it you one of these +days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer affair. But, I say, the +governor, you won't forget about the governor, please! His hide is +thick, of course--German, and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you +can get through it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! +Dad's afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her brats! But +there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + +'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as the door +had slammed-to. + +His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned away from +me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + + +XII + + +All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about Susanna, and +about her relations. I had a vague feeling of something like a family +drama. As far as I could judge, my friend was not indifferent to +Susanna. But she? Did she care for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And +altogether, what sort of creature was she? These questions were +continually recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told +me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the solution of them. +It ended in my setting off the next day alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + +I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I found +myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear even, very likely,' +flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to stop with the repulsive veteran +and his cook of a wife.... And indeed, even if she does show herself, +what of it? She won't even take part in the conversation.... She was +anything but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I +come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page ran to +announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after two or three +wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard the heavy shuffling of +slippers, the folding-door was slightly opened, and in the crack between +its two halves was thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and +grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not +immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once recognise +me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes narrower, and from +his opening mouth, there burst, together with a guffaw, the exclamation: +'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? Pray walk in!' + +I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to me that +this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly wishing me at the +devil. There was nothing to be done, however. He led me into the +drawing-room, and in the drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, +bending over an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy +eyes, and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... It was +a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to nervous people. There +was no one else in the room. + +'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on the haunch, +'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy upon: we're at our +accounts. My spouse has no great head for arithmetic, and I, I must own, +try to spare my eyes. I can't read without spectacles, what am I to do? +Let the young people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. +But there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in catching +fleas, he-he!' + +Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + +'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great matter if +you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was wearing a very old, +almost childish, frock with short sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a +stickler for ceremony, and I should like just to clear up last week.... +You don't mind?'--he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony with +you, eh?' + +'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + +'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar Alexey +Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for business, but a minute +for recreation!" We'll devote one minute only to that same business... +ha-ha! What about that thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in +a low voice, turning his back on me. + +'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was with your +leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + +'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. 'I'm on the +spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's had that seventeen +roubles?' + +'The upholsterer.' + +'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + +'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, and planting +a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on his nose, he began +passing his finger along the lines. 'The upholsterer,.. the +upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money out of doors! Nothing pleases +you better!... Wie die Croaten! A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added +aloud, and he turned round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles +off his nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details +later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that account-book, +and come back to us and enchant our kind guest's ears with your musical +accomplishments, to wit, playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + +Susanna turned away her head. + +'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a great +pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I would not for +anything in the world be a trouble...' + +'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, eins, zwei, +drei!' + +Susanna made no response, and went out. + + +XIII + + +I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly reappeared. She had +not even changed her dress, and sitting down in a corner, she looked +twice intently at me. Whether it was that she was conscious in my manner +to her of the involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more +than curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or whether +she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any way, she suddenly went +to the piano, and laying her hand irresolutely on the keys, and turning +her head a little over her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would +like her to play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, +taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. I loved +music from childhood, but at that time I had but little comprehension of +it, and very slight knowledge of the works of the great masters, and if +Mr. Ratsch had not grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder +dieser Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had chosen. It +was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated sonata in F minor, opus +57. Susanna's playing impressed me more than I can say; I had not +expected such force, such fire, such bold execution. At the very first +bars of the intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I +felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, which +instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with sudden flight +upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very end. I kept, wanting--and +not daring--to sigh. I was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her +face; I saw only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down +on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her delicate arms +and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, moving. The last notes +died away. I sighed at last. Susanna still sat before the piano. + +'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, listened with +attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the fashion nowadays. Only, +why not play correctly? Eh? Put your finger on two notes at once--what's +that for? Eh? To be sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! +Turns it out hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + +Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of her face +in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the downcast eyelid, an +unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the little ear was red under the +lock pushed behind it. + +'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' pursued Mr. +Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the late Field they were +all--tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And +his own compositions the finest things! But all those now +"tloo-too-too," and "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for +beginners. Da braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no +matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' (Ivan +Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) 'But I don't say +that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played well, and oughtn't to be hurt +by my remarks.' + +'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, and her lips +were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan Demianitch, you know, cannot +hurt me.' + +'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'--Mr. Ratsch turned to +me--'don't you imagine, my young friend, that that comes from our +excessive good-nature and meekness of spirit; it's simply that we fancy +ourselves so highly exalted that--oo-oo!--we can't keep our cap on our +head, as the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can +touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + +I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest spite, seemed +as it were boiling over in every word he uttered.... And long it must +have been rankling! It choked him. He tried to conclude his tirade with +his usual laugh, and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna +did not let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, +raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, stared straight +at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open eyes the hatred of long +years lay smouldering with dim, unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + +'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, with an +effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to suggest that I noticed +nothing, 'and so it is not surprising that you do not agree in your +opinions.... But, Ivan Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... +the side of the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I +must confess nothing in music has ever made such an impression on me as +the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just played us.' + +Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + +'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from the fit of +coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? We don't want that at +all! Freedom for the free, salvation for the saved! But as to the two +generations, that's right enough; we old folks find it hard to get on +with you young people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: +neither in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna +Ivanovna?' + +Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + +'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not agree, and +cannot agree,' she responded, and something menacing seemed to flit over +her brows, while her lips were faintly trembling as before. + +'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a philosopher! I'm not +capable of... rising so superior! I'm a plain man, swayed by +prejudices--oh yes!' + +Susanna smiled again. + +'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able to place +yourself above what are called prejudices.' + +'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + +'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + +Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + +'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + +'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + +There followed a brief silence. + +'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare you... +such insolence...' + +Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and still +holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on them with her +fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She seemed to challenge him to +conflict, to stand up to meet him. Her face was changed; it became +suddenly, in one instant, extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a +sort of bright, cold brilliance--the brilliance of steel--gleamed in her +lustreless eyes; the lips that had been quivering were compressed in one +straight, mercilessly stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he +gazed blankly, and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to +say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran of the year +twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake about that. + +Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though calling upon me +to witness her victory, and the humiliation of her foe, and, smiling +once more, she walked out of the room. + +The veteran remained a little while motionless in his arm-chair; at +last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, he roused himself, got +up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, laughed his noisy guffaw. + +'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've been living +with that young lady, and yet she never can see when I'm joking, and +when I'm in earnest! And you too, my young friend, are a little puzzled, +I do believe.... Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + +'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling of some +alarm and disgust. + +'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he repeated, +stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied me into the passage. +'I may be a tiresome person, knocked about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a +good-hearted fellow, 'pon my soul, I am!' + +I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed with all +speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + + +XIV + + +'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I returned +homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a wretch of a man, and +she's a good girl. But what has there been between them? What is the +reason of this continual exasperation? What was the meaning of those +hints? And how suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + +Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to see +Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had only just been +licensed for performance after being first disfigured by the censors' +mutilations. We warmly applauded Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember +what actor took the part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was +indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a Hungarian jacket, +and boots with tassels, and came on later in a frockcoat of the colour +'flamme du punch,' then in fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as +suitable as it would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that +we were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, +probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was accepted as +correct and I believe it is acted in just the same way to-day. One of +the guests hopped excessively high, while his wig flew from side to +side, and the public roared with laughter. As we were coming out of the +theatre, we jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + +'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. 'How was +it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You must come and have +supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the supper!' + +Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of mind. His +little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and there were spots of +red on his face. + +'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + +'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little aside, and +pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle of the red and blue +notes then in use waved them in the air. + +Fustov was surprised. + +'Has your governor been so liberal?' + +Viktor chuckled. + +'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on your +intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose the old +skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, "if you like. Up to +twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you hear, inclusive! No, sir, this +was a gift from God in my destitution. A lucky chance.' + +'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + +Viktor frowned. + +'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a guardsman. He +only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a chain of circumstances! +It's worth telling... only this isn't the place. Come along to Yar's; +not a couple of steps. I'll stand the show, as I said!' + +We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without making any +objection. + + +XV + + +At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was served, champagne +was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting no detail, how he had in a +certain 'gay' house met this officer of the guards, a very nice chap and +of good family, only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made +friends, how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game of +'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to nothing, and with +the condition that the officer's winnings should go to the benefit of +Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his own benefit; how afterwards they had got +on to betting on the games. + +'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, 'I +hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at +first I was completely cleaned out.... A nice position! Only then--in +answer to whose prayers I can't say--fortune smiled. The other fellow +began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no time he'd lost +seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing, +but I'm not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I +popped on my hat and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie +with the governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another +bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + +We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing +with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his +society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being +very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more +loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making +on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and +his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and +after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a +badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging +expression on his distorted face. + +'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you please, what +do you look down on me for?' + +'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + +'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down on me, and +that person does too' (he pointed at me with his finger), 'so there! As +though you were yourself remarkable for such high and exalted +principles, and weren't just as much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse +even. Still waters... you know the proverb?' + +Fustov turned rather red. + +'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + +'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly everything +that's going on under my nose.... And I have nothing against it: first +it's not my principle to interfere, and secondly, my sister Susanna +Ivanovna hasn't always been so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down +on me?' + +'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! You're +drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the wall. 'He's swindled +some fool of his money, and now he's telling all sorts of lies!' + +Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his legs, which +were hanging over its arm. + +'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for with the +money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for lying. It's not my +fault that in her past Susanna Ivanovna...' + +'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your tongue... or...' + +'Or what?' + +'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + +'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge in flight. +He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! It stings--the truth +does, it seems!' + +'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his habitual +coolness and self-possession. + +'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + +'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted after us, 'he +despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + +Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had difficulty in +keeping up with him. All at once he stopped short and turned sharply +back. + +'Where are you going?' I asked. + +'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, God knows +what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see each other to-morrow. +Good-bye!' + +And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's hotel. + +Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, on going to +his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the country to his uncle's, +near Moscow. I inquired if he had left no note for me, but no note was +forth-coming. Then I asked the servant whether he knew how long +Alexander Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a +little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate Fustov's +exact address, and sauntered home, meditating deeply. This unexpected +absence from Moscow, in the winter, completed my utter perplexity. My +good aunt observed to me at dinner that I seemed continually expecting +something, and gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it +for the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'etes pas amoureux?' she +cried at last, having previously got rid of her companions. But I +reassured her: no, I was not in love. + + +XVI + + +Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the Ratschs'. I +fancied that in their house I should be sure to find a solution of all +that absorbed my mind, that I could not make out.... But I should have +had to meet the veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous +evening--the February wind was howling angrily outside, the frozen snow +tapped at the window from time to time like coarse sand flung by a +mighty hand--I was sitting in my room, trying to read. My servant came, +and, with a mysterious air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I +was surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a late +hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door opened and with swift +step there walked in a woman, muffled up in a light summer cloak and a +yellow shawl. Abruptly she cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were +covered with snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so +astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to the window, +and leaning her shoulder against the wall, remained motionless; only her +bosom heaved convulsively and her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath +came with a faint moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no +slight trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my youth +and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes the fate of a whole +life was being decided--a bitter and terrible fate. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + +She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her voice failed +her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her heavy coils of black +hair fell about her face.... The snow had not melted from off it. + +'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, on the +sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + +'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to the +window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You could not +expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + +She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her eyes with a +violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, devouring sobs, filled the +room. I felt a tightness at my heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had +seen Susanna only twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but +I had regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at once +these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only weeps like that +in the presence of death! + +I stood like one condemned to death myself. + +'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, wiping +first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. I've come to +you....' She was still sobbing, but without tears. 'I've come.... You +know that Alexander Daviditch has gone away?' + +In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she glanced at +me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of course, you will have +pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There was no other course left her then! + +I did not know what answer to make.... + +'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' Susanna was +saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to question me; he thought I +should not tell him all the truth, he could think that of me! As though +I had ever deceived him!' + +She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch with her +nail the patterns of ice that covered the window-pane. I went hastily +into the next room, and sending my servant away, came back at once and +lighted another candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... +I was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the +window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how lightly she +was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a broad leather belt, +that was all. I went up to her, but she did not take any notice of me. + +'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying softly from +side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me this last... last blow!' +She turned suddenly to me. 'You know his address?' + +'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at his house. +He told me nothing of his intention; I had not seen him for two +days--went to inquire and he had already left Moscow.' + +'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him then that he +has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He did not talk to you of me, +I dare say, but he talked to me about you. Write... ah, write to him to +come back quickly, if he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find +me!...' + +Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was quieter +altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful than the previous +sobs. + +'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on her clasped +hands. + +A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp whistle and a +thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the room.... The candles +flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I begged her to sit on the sofa. + +'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. Please.' She +huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had found herself a refuge +in the recesses of the window. 'Please.' + +'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your shoes are +soaked.' + +'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + +A panic seized me. + +'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I entreat +you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? You will see, every +thing will be cleared up, some misunderstanding... some unlooked-for +chance.... You will see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I +will write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... Is it +possible!' + +'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same subdued +voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to you, to a stranger, if +I had not known I should not long be living? Ah, all my past has been +swept away beyond return! You see, I could not bear to die so, in +solitude, in silence, without saying to some one, "I've lost every +thing... and I'm dying.... Look!"' + +She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I forget that +head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out look, those dark, +disordered tresses against the pale window-pane, even the grey, narrow +gown, under every fold of which throbbed such young, passionate life! + +Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + +'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... You must +live!' + +She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + +'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both her hands. +'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to suffer, too much! I +lived through it.... I hoped... but now... when even this is +shattered... when...' + +She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into thought. The +tragic line, which I had once noticed about her lips, came out now still +more clearly; it seemed to spread across her whole face. It seemed as +though some relentless hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for +ever on this lost soul. + +She was still silent. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with anything; +'he will come back, I assure you!' + +Susanna looked at me again. + +'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + +'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come back!' + +'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come back, I +cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of faith....' + +She clutched at her head. + +'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is it all? +What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am going mad!...' + +Her eyes came to a rest. + +'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to remind +her. + +She started. + +'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' She +hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little manuscript +book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran away.... But he +believed... he believed him!' + +I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would not +mention him, would not utter his detested name. + +'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you suppose +that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with that person?' + +'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, and bragged +of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! Here, here, take it,' +she went on, thrusting the manuscript into my hand, 'read it, send it to +him, burn it, throw it away, do what you like, as you please.... But I +can't die like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must +go.' + +She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + +'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, what a +storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And your home is not +near here. Let me at least go for a carriage, for a sledge....' + +'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me and taking +up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's sake! or... I can't +answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a dark abyss under my feet.... +Don't come near me, don't touch me!' With feverish haste she put on her +cloak, arranged her shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy +people, for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever cared +for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; one man loved +me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but death is all about me, +death and no escape! Now it is my turn.... Don't come after me,' she +cried shrilly. 'Don't come! don't come!' + +I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, I heard the +slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the window panes shook +again under the violent onslaught of the blast. + +I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life in those +days: I had had no experience of passion nor of suffering, and had +rarely witnessed any manifestation of strong feeling in others.... But +the sincerity of this suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it +had not been for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I +had dreamed it all--it was all so unlikely, and swooped by like a +passing storm. I was till midnight reading the manuscript. It consisted +of several sheets of letter-paper, closely covered with a large, +irregular writing, almost without an erasure. Not a single line was +quite straight, and one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited +trembling of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the +manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + + +XVII + +MY STORY + + +I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest +recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the country house +of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, in a small room on the +second storey. With me lived my mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead +painter, who had come from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an +extraordinarily beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, +that sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at her, I +was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I would burst into tears +and rush to embrace her. I had tutors come to me; I had music lessons, +and was called 'miss.' I dined at the master's table together with my +mother. Mr. Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately +manner; he always smelt of _ambre_. I stood in mortal terror of him, +though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy hand to kiss under +its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was elaborately courteous, but he +talked little even with her. He would say two or three affable words, to +which she promptly made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit +looking about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of Spanish +snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms of the Empress +Catherine on it. + +My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I learnt then, +from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky was +my father, and almost on the same day, my mother, by his command, was +married to Mr. Ratsch, who was something like a steward to him. I was +utterly unable to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was +bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the strain, my +mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, mamma,' I asked her, +'that scented bogey' (that was my name for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my +father?' My mother was terribly scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never +speak to any one of that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a +word!'... she repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her +bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That prohibition of +my mother's I understood.... I understood that I must be silent, that my +mother begged my forgiveness! + +My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love my mother, +and she did not love him. He married her for money, and she was obliged +to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably considered that in this way everything +had been arranged for the best, _la position etait regularisee_. I +remember the day before the marriage my mother and I--both locked in +each other's arms--wept almost the whole morning--bitterly, +bitterly--and silently. It is not strange that she was silent.... What +could she say to me? But that I did not question her shows that unhappy +children learn wisdom sooner than happy ones... to their cost. + +Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, and even by +degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did not talk to me... but +morning and evening, after flicking the snuff from his jabot with two +fingers, he would with the same two fingers--always icy cold--pat me on +the cheek and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also +smelling of _ambre_, which I never ate. At twelve years old I +became his reader---_sa petite lectrice_. I read him French books +of the last century, the memoirs of Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, +Helvetius, Voltaire's correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course +without understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, he +ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien remarquable!' +Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He had lived in Paris till +the Revolution, remembered Marie Antoinette, and had received an +invitation to Trianon to see her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, +according to his account, wore very large buttons--_exagere en +tout_, and was altogether a man of _mauvais ton, en depit de sa +naissance!_ Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that time; but +two or three times a year, addressing himself to the crooked old +emigrant whom he had taken into his house, and called for some unknown +reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, +the impromptu he had once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de +Polignac. I remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a +comparison between the Russians and the French: + + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austeres + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' + + +'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every time +exclaim. + +Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: his cheeks +were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and immobile, his eyes +agreeable and expressive, clear, black eyes, perfect agate. He was not +at all unreasonable, and was very courteous with every one, even with +the servants.... But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy +I always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his presence! Ah, +I was not to blame for them!... I was not to blame for what they had +made of me.... + +Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far from the +big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a cheerless life I led +there. She soon gave birth to a son, Viktor, this same Viktor whom I +have every right to think and to call my enemy. From the time of his +birth my mother never regained her health, which had always been weak. +Mr. Ratsch did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of +good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air and tried +to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he was cruel and rude. I +felt relief when I retired from Ivan Matveitch's presence; but my own +home too I was glad to leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed +from one shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I would +run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep snow, in a thin +frock--run to the big house to read to Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be +glad to go.... But when I was there, when I saw those great cheerless +rooms, the bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and +heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the white jabot and +white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over his fingers, with a +_soupcon_ of powder (so his valet expressed it) on his combed-back +hair, I felt choked by the stifling scent of _ambre_, and my heart +sank. Ivan Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall +behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, with a +bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a sumptuous Hebrew +costume, and simply covered with precious stones, with diamonds.... I +often stole a glance at this picture, but only later on I learned that +it was the portrait of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan +Matveitch's request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had +he succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! Loved +that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! Love him!' And yet, +when I recalled some of my mother's glances, some half-uttered phrases +and unconscious gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated +with horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such feelings! + +Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or four hours +together.... So much reading in such a loud voice was harmful to me. Our +doctor was anxious about my lungs and even once communicated his fears +to Ivan Matveitch. But the old man only smiled--no; he never smiled, but +somehow sharpened and moved forward his lips--and told him: 'Vous ne +savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette jeunesse.' 'In former +years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... the doctor ventured to observe. +Ivan Matveitch smiled as before. 'Vous revez, mon cher,' he interposed: +'le commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache a chaque mot. J'aime les +voix jeunes.' + +And I still went on reading, though my cough was very troublesome in the +mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan Matveitch made me play the +piano. But music always had a soporific influence on his nerves. His +eyes closed at once, his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, +'C'est du Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan Matveitch +looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had succeeded in overcoming +in himself 'la grossiere lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault +with him for one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When +Ivan Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would offer me +'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped by.... + +And then one night--a night never to be forgotten!--a terrible calamity +fell upon me. My mother died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. +Oh, what a sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down +upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with death! My poor +mother! Strange were our relations; we passionately loved each other... +passionately and hopelessly; we both as it were treasured up and hid +from each other our common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, +though we knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even of +the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to me, and she +never complained in words, though her whole being was nothing but one +dumb complaint. We avoided all conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I +kept hoping that the hour would come, and she would open her heart at +last, and I too should speak out, and both of us would be more at +ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, shrinking temper, +illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and most of all the eternal +question,--what is the use? and the relentless, unbroken flowing away of +time, of life.... All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the +words which would have loosed us from the burden of our secret--even the +last dying words of leave-taking--I was not destined to hear from my +mother! All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, 'Susanna +Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you her blessing!' and +then the pale hand stretched out from the heavy counterpane, the +agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... Oh, enough! enough! + +With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity I looked +next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the face of my father... +yes, my father! In my dead mother's writing-case were found his letters. +I fancied he looked a little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was +stirring in that heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to +his room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to read: +'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur l'histoire de France de +Mably, a la page 74... la ou nous avons ete interrompus.' And he had +not even had my mother's portrait moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed +call me to him, and giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he +observed: 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mere vous a privee de votre appui +naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter sur ma protection,' but with +the other hand he gave me at once a slight push on the shoulder, and, +with the sharpening of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he +added, 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you +know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + +Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in all its +glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat on the new grave. I +did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was filling my brain: 'Do you +hear, mother? He means to extend his protection to me, too!' And it +seemed to me that my mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which +it instinctively called up on my lips. + +At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to wring--not a +confession... no, indeed! but, at least, one warm word of kinship from +Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know what he was, and how little he was like +all that I pictured in my dreams as a _father_!... But I was so +lonely, so alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave +me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him for +something?' + +Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the monotonous round of +life, marked out and arranged for us. Viktor was growing into a boy. I +was eight years older and would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. +Ratsch opposed my doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep +strict watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow me +to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One day Mr. Ratsch +came into my room, perturbed, excited, and angry. On the previous +evening unpleasant rumours had reached me about my stepfather; the +servants were talking of his having been caught embezzling a +considerable sum of money, and taking bribes from a merchant. + +'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the table with his +fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan Matveitch.' + +'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + +'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm accused... +well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to eat, and you, too.' + +'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + +'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + +'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + +'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. Do you mean +to tell me you don't understand that?' + +He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks simply burning. +Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged in a rush upon me, drowning +me. + +'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at last--my own +voice seemed strange to me--'and I am not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I +will not ask him for anything. Bread, or no bread!' + +Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his fists. + +'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. 'I won't +forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for him, and, I was told, +shook his cane at him, the very cane which he had once exchanged with +the Due de la Rochefoucauld, and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and +extortioner! I put you outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak +Russian at all, and despised our 'coarse jargon,' _ce jargon vulgaire +et rude_. Some one once said before him, 'That same's self-understood.' +Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and often afterwards quoted the phrase +as an example of the senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. +'What does it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in Russian, +with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply that's understood, and why +same and self?' + +Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did not even +deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept his word: he never +forgot it. + +I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was low-spirited, +depressed, his health broke down a little. His fresh, rosy face grew +yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front tooth. He quite ceased going out, +and gave up the reception-days he had established for the peasants, +without the assistance of the priest, _sans le concours du clerge_. +On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in the habit of going in to the +peasants in the hall or on the balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, +and putting his lips to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a +speech something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even as I +am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We are all _brothers_; +at our birth we are equal; I drink your health!' He bowed to them, and +the peasants bowed to him, but only from the waist, no prostrating +themselves to the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were +entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no longer +showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he interrupted my reading with +exclamations: 'La machine se detraque! Cela se gate!' Even his +eyes--those bright, stony eyes--began to grow dim and, as it were, +smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and breathed hard in his sleep. His +manner with me was unchanged; only a shade of chivalrous deference began +to be perceptible in it. He never failed to get up--though with +difficulty--from his chair when I came in, conducted me to the door, +supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and instead of Suzon began +to call me sometimes, 'ma chere demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' +M. le Commandeur died two years after my mother's death; his death +seemed to affect Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had +disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later years M. le +Commandeur's sole service had consisted in crying, 'Bien joue, mal +reussi!' every time Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards +with Mr. Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed him +at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le Commandeur, +c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses _Lettres Persanes_?' he had +still, sometimes dropping a spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded +profoundly: 'Ah, Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand ecrivain, monsieur, +un grand ecrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch told him that 'les +theophilanthropes ont eu pourtant du bon!' the old man cried in an +excited voice, 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the +course of twenty years in learning to pronounce his patron's name +correctly), 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de +cette secte, ce La Reveillere Lepeaux etait un bonnet rouge!' 'Non, +non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and rolling together a pinch of +snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out +eu du bon, ils out eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of +Ivan Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his knowledge to +himself. + +Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a good face on +it. One day, three weeks before his death, he had a violent attack of +giddiness just after dinner. He sank into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' +and pulling himself together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to +Petersburg to his sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no +intercourse for twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a +neighbour paid him a visit--a German, a Catholic--once a distinguished +physician, who was living in retirement in his little place in the +country. He was very rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always +received him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect for +him. He was almost the only person in the world he did respect. The old +man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a priest, but Ivan Matveitch +responded that 'ces messieurs et moi, nous n'avons rien a nous dire,' +and begged him to change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he +gave his valet orders to admit no one in future. + +Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there were blue +patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and stiff, his jaw hung +down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he said, with difficulty articulating +the consonants, but still trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous +allez peut-etre bientot rester seule. Soyez toujours sage et vertueuse. +C'est la derniere recommandation d'un'--he coughed--'d'un vieillard qui +vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommande a mon frere et je ne doute pas +qu'il ne respecte mes volontes....' He coughed again, and anxiously felt +his chest. 'Du reste, j'esepre encore pouvoir faire quelque chose pour +vous... dans mon testament.' This last phrase cut me to the heart, like +a knife. Ah, it was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan +Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling--to a feeling of grief +or gratitude--what was expressed in my face, and as though wishing to +comfort me, he patted me on the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, +gently repelling me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous +sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. Ce n'est +qu'une precaution que j'ai cru devoir prendre.... Allez!' + +Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's death, I longed +to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! your daughter!' But I thought +in those words, in that cry of the heart, he would doubtless hear +nothing but a desire to assert my rights, my claims on his property, on +his money.... Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to +this man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in whose +eyes I was of so little account that he did not even trouble himself to +ascertain whether I was aware of my parentage! Or, perhaps, he +suspected, even knew it, and did not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite +saying of his, almost the only Russian expression he ever used), did not +care to deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! Let +him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her mother! Let him +carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I swore he should not hear +from my lips the word which must have something of a sweet and holy +sound in every ear! I would not say to him father! I would not forgive +him for my mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of +that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt no need of +it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should not, he should not! + +God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my heart would +not have softened, whether I should not have overcome my shyness, my +shame, and my pride... but it happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with +my mother. Death carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was +again Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to Ivan +Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last dying gestures, +which had left such a vivid impression on my memory at my mother's +bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged pillows lay a sort of withered, +dark-coloured doll, with sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I +shrieked with horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways +against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, and found +myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + +I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the bedroom, at a +violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan Matveitch not in the bed, but a +few feet from it. And that he was sitting huddled up on the floor, and +that twice over he repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for +you!' And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe that. Was +it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, and such a homely old +Russian saying too! + +For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival of the new +master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders that nothing was to +be touched, no one was to be discharged, till he had looked into +everything in person. All the doors, all the furniture, drawers, +tables--all were locked and sealed up. All the servants were downcast +and apprehensive. I became suddenly one of the most important persons in +the house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as 'the +young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to take a new +significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar emphasis. It began to +be whispered that 'the old master had died suddenly, and hadn't time to +send for a priest, indeed and he hadn't been at confession for many a +long day; but still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + +Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. He did not +affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he would not impose upon +me, but his face wore an expression of sulky resignation. 'You see, I +give in,' he seemed to say. Every one showed me deference, and tried to +please me... while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could +only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were hurting me. At +last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + +Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, and his +whole life had taken a completely different turn. He was a government +official in Petersburg, filling an important position.... He had married +and been left early a widower; he had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch +was like his brother, only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round +bald head, bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more +prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he spoke of even +after his death as a French philosopher, and sometimes bluntly as a +queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost invariably talked Russian, loudly +and fluently, and he was constantly laughing, completely closing his +eyes as he did so and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though +he were shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went +into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from every one. +The very first day of his arrival he ordered a service with holy water, +and sprinkled everything with water, all the rooms in the house, even +the lofts and the cellars, in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel +the Voltairean and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan +Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was even +banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was inflicted on others; +the old valet--he was a Turk, knew French, and had been given to Ivan +Matveitch by the late field-marshal Kamensky--received his freedom, +indeed, but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, 'as +an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be a harsh master; +many probably regretted the late owner. + +'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit with age, +wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see that the linen put +out was clean, and that the rooms smelt sweet, and that the servants' +voices weren't heard in the passages--God forbid! For the rest, you +might do as you pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! +Ah, it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + +Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in the +position in which I had been placed for a few days against my own +will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan Matveitch's papers, not a +line written for my benefit. At once every one seemed in haste to avoid +me.... I am not speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry +with me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived them. + +One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at the altar, +Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had seen him by glimpses, +and he seemed not to have noticed me. He received me in his study, +standing at the window. He was wearing an official uniform with two +stars. I stood still, near the door; my heart was beating violently from +fear and from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I +wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, glancing first at +my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. The look was like a slap in the +face. 'I wished to see you to inform you of my decision, and to assure +you of my unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised +his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my brother's +reader you may always reckon on my... my consideration. I am... of +course convinced of your good sense and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, +your stepfather, has already received from me the necessary +instructions. To which I must add that your attractive exterior seems to +me a pledge of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went +off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended exactly... but I +suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and at that moment I fully +realised how utterly forsaken and alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went +with short, firm steps to the table, took a roll of notes out of the +drawer, and putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from +me for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; but +good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the roll +mechanically: I should have taken anything he had offered me, and going +back to my own room, a long while I wept, sitting on my bed. I did not +notice that I had dropped the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +found it and picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, +kept it for himself. + +An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in those days. +After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, he became a great +favourite, and soon after received the position of head steward. From +that time dates his cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it +was an effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became a +habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. Semyon +Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he called himself 'a +true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the European dress, which he wore +however. He sent away to a remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan +Matveitch had spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known +how to prepare pickled giblets. + +Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the responses +with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were brought together to dance +and sing choruses, he would join in their songs too, and beat time with +his feet, and pinch their cheeks.... But he soon went back to +Petersburg, leaving my stepfather practically in complete control of the +whole property. + +Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, and I gave +myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately Mr. Ratsch was very +fully occupied, but he took every opportunity to make me feel his +hostility; as he had promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He +ill-treated me, made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon +Matveitch, and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to +obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he meant to +tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you mean by those mutinous +eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, drinking his beer, and slapping +the table with his hand. 'You think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, +so you must be all right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a +sheep too!' My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was +growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more frequently to +stir within it. I passed nights without sleep and without a light, +thinking, thinking incessantly; and in the darkness without and the +gloom within, a fearful determination began to shape itself. The arrival +of Semyon Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + +No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring in +unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the Alexander ribbon, +and they had presented him with a snuff-box. Discontented with the +government, which had failed to appreciate his talents, and with +Petersburg society, which had shown him little sympathy, and did not +share his indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and +devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived alone. His +son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the holidays for the New Year. +My stepfather was scarcely ever out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still +stood high in his good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for +me then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start a paper +factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of manufacturing work, and +Semyon Matveitch was aware of the fact; but then my stepfather was an +active man (the favourite expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That +was just what Semyon Matveitch used to call him--'my Araktcheev!' +'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there is zeal, I +myself will direct it.' In the midst of his numerous occupations--he had +to superintend the factory, the estate, the foundation of a +counting-house, the drawing up of counting-house regulations, the +creation of new offices and duties--Semyon Matveitch still had time to +attend to me. + +I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to play the +piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less than his brother; he +praised and thanked me, however, and next day I was invited to dine at +the master's table. After dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long +conversation with me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, +though there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at me +so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his eyes, I did not +like their open expression, their clear glance.... It always seemed to +me that this very openness concealed something evil, that under that +clear brilliance it was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my +reader,' Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and setting +himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank God, not blind yet, +and can read myself; but coffee will taste better to me from your little +hands, and I shall listen to your playing with pleasure.' From that day +I always went over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in +the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was in favour: +it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon Matveitch, I am bound to own, +showed me a certain respect, but in the man there was, I felt it, +something that repelled and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed +itself not in words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his +laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and it seemed +to me that he avoided the subject, not because he did not want to excite +ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, but from another cause, to which I +could not give a definite shape, but which made me blush and feel +bewildered.... Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + +Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are too +painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... But what is +the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he loved me. + +How it came to pass--I am not going to describe that either. From the +very evening when he came into the drawing-room--I was at the piano, +playing a sonata of Weber's when he came in--handsome and slender, in a +velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he was, +straight from the frost outside, and shaking his snow-sprinkled, sable +cap, before he had greeted his father, glanced swiftly at me, and +wondered--I knew that from that evening I could never forget him--I +could never forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his +voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, and in every +sound such a true, honest nature! + +Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced him, but +at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' and sent me away. + +I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights flitting to and +fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched them, I listened to the +new, unfamiliar voices; I was attracted by the cheerful commotion, and +something new, unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next +day before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had come +across to see my stepfather with some message from Semyon Matveitch, and +he found me in our little sitting-room. I was getting up to go; he +detained me. He was very lively and unconstrained in all his movements +and words, but of superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of +Petersburg superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the +officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very freedom of +his manner there was something appealing, almost shamefaced, as though +he were begging you to overlook something. Some people's eyes are never +laughing, even at the moment of laughter; with _him_ it was the +lips that almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes were +almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an hour... what about I +don't remember; I remember only that I looked him straight in the face +all the while, and oh, how delightfully at ease I felt with him! + +In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of music, and he +sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly head on his arm, he +listened intently. He did not once praise me, but I felt that he liked +my playing, and I played with ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting +near his son, looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, +madam,' he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as his +manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away like a canary? +It's enough to make one's head ache. For us old folks you wouldn't exert +yourself so, no fear...' he added in an undertone, and again he sent me +away. Michel followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his +seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried Semyon +Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said something more... I +could not catch his words; but Mr. Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a +corner of the drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he +had brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my ears.... +The same thing, or almost the same thing, was repeated the following +evening... Semyon Matveitch grew suddenly cooler to me. + +Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the big house +in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a room near the +dining-room, which was called the portrait gallery. I followed him, not +without emotion, but with perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I +would have followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no +suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with all the +passion, all the despair of a young creature who not only has no one to +love, but feels herself an uninvited and unnecessary guest among +strangers, among enemies!... Michel said to me--and it was strange! I +looked boldly, directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and +flushed slightly--he said to me that he understood my position, and +sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive his father.... 'As far as +I'm concerned,' he added, 'I beseech you always to trust me, and believe +me, to me you 're a sister--yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand +warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had somehow +expected something else, some other word. I began to thank him. 'No, +please,'--he cut me short--'don't talk like that.... But remember, it's +a brother's duty to defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, +against any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, but I +have seen a good deal already... and among other things, I see through +your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand again, and left me. + +I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. Ratsch from +his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried to ingratiate himself +with him too, but becoming convinced of the uselessness of his efforts, +promptly took up himself an attitude of hostility to him, and not only +did not disguise it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no +opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his regret that +he had been so unlucky as to displease the young heir. Mr. Ratsch had +carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's character; his calculations did not +lead him astray. 'This man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the +very reason that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot +endure him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's head. +They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are readily caught by +that bait, the bait of exclusive personal devotion.... + +Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his Araktcheev.... +He might well have called him another name too. 'You're not one to make +difficulties,' he used to say to him. He had begun in this +condescendingly familiar tone with him from the very first, and my +stepfather would gaze fondly at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop +deprecatingly on one side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as +though to say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + +Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against the table +on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for me to recall those +days, and my blood boils.... But I will tell everything to the end... to +the end! + +A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me during my brief +period of favour. He began to be deferential to me, to be respectfully +familiar with me, as though I had grown sensible, and become more on a +level with him. 'You've done with your airs and graces,' he said to me +one day, as we were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite +right too! All those fine principles and delicate sentiments--moral +precepts in fact--are not for us, young lady, they're not for poor +folks.' + +When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it necessary +to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his sympathy with me, the +latter suddenly redoubled his severity with me; he was continually +following me about, as though I were capable of any crime, and must be +sharply looked after. 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting +without knocking into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his +head; 'I won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up +airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud spirit.' + +And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree had gone +forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear at the dinner-table +for the future without special invitation.... I don't know how all this +would have ended if it had not been for an event which was the final +turning-point of my destiny.... + +Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his head to +break in a young horse, which went well for a while, then began kicking +and flung him out of the sledge.... He was brought home unconscious, +with a broken arm and bruises on his chest. His father was +panic-stricken; he sent for the best doctors from the town. They did a +great deal for Michel; but he had to lie down for a month. He did not +play cards, the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him +to read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended by +Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old capacity of reader. + +Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to Michel +directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table in the +half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a little room out of +the drawing-room, at the further end, on a broad leather sofa in the +Empire style, with a gold bas-relief on its high, straight back. The +bas-relief represented a marriage procession among the ancients. +Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always moved at once, +and his pale face turned towards me: he smiled, his whole face +brightened, he flung back his soft, damp curls, and said to me softly, +'Good-morning, my kind sweet girl.' I took up the book--Walter Scott's +novels were at the height of their fame in those days--the reading of +Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection in my mind.... I +could not help my voice thrilling and quivering as I gave utterance to +Rebecca's speeches. I, too, had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like +hers? Was I not, like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every +time I removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met his +eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. We talked very +little; the door into the drawing-room was invariably open and some one +was always sitting there; but whenever it was quiet there, I used, I +don't know why, to cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he +looked at me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and +shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other then without a +gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came together, ran to meet each +other, as underground streams flow together, unseen, unheard... and +irresistibly. + +'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + +'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + +'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up the table.' + +I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not dare +glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the room, how freely I +had gazed at him! + +I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + +'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an undertone, +also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer me.' + +I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, moved a +pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at him. His head was +stretched a little forward; pale all over, with imploring eyes he signed +towards my hand... + +Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something +instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely breathing, +I took up the knight and moved it right across the board. Michel bent +down swiftly, and catching my fingers with his lips, and pressing them +against the board, he began noiselessly and passionately kissing +them.... I had no power, I had no wish to draw them back; with my other +hand I hid my face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... +oh, what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, I knew, +with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that he was who held my +hand in his power! I knew that he was not a boy, carried away by a +momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, not a military Lovelace, but one of +the noblest, the best of men... and he loved me! + +'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make you shed +other tears than these.' + +He was wrong... he did. + +But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... especially, +especially now? + +Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that Semyon +Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not conceal it from +me. I had no doubt about it myself and I rejoiced, not that he did not +deceive me--he _could not_ deceive--but that he did not try to +delude himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have followed +where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he repeated to me. 'I am +not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is not with Lady Rowena.' + +Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going to see him, +but everything was decided between us. I was already entirely absorbed +in the future; I saw nothing of what was passing around me, as though I +were floating on a glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. +But we were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I noticed +my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his loathsome laugh.... But +that laugh, those eyes as it were emerged for an instant from the +mist... I shuddered, but forgot it directly, and surrendered myself +again to the glorious, swift river... + +On the day before the departure of Michel--we had planned together that +he was to turn back secretly on the way and fetch me--I received from +him through his trusted valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him +at half-past nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched +room, built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that he +absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had twice already +met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the key of the outer door. As +soon as it struck half-past nine I threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, +stepped quietly out of the lodge, and made my way successfully over the +crackling snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood +a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind whistled +shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver passed over me, but I put +the key into the lock, went into the room, closed the door behind me, +turned round... A dark figure became visible against one of the walls, +took a couple of steps forward, stopped... + +'Michel,' I whispered. + +'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a voice, +which seemed to rend my heart... + +Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + +I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + +'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite equal to +stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have to be equal to the +consequences.' + +I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the door... In vain! +Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon Matveitch held me tight. + +'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + +'I tell you you shan't stir!' + +Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness I could not +distinguish his face. I had turned away from him too, but I heard him +breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I felt neither fear nor despair, +but a sort of senseless amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb +like that in the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which +still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious claw.... + +'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's come to +this... Ah, wait a bit!' + +I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I almost +shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and menace burst upon +me... + +'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + +Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not control +myself... I screamed. + +That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little quieter, let +go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps from me, between me and +the door. + +A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily as before. + +'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see that your +morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you are still capable of +listening to the voice of reason. Impulsive folly I can overlook, but +stubborn obstinacy--never! My son...' there was a catch in his +breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? Hasn't he? +Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + +I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost flying into +fury again. + +'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after a brief +pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my daughter-in-law? A pretty +notion! But you're not a child of four years old, and you must be fully +aware that young boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if +only they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could you +suppose that I--a noble gentleman of ancient family, Semyon Matveitch +Koltovsky--would ever give my consent to such a marriage? Or did you +mean to dispense with the parental blessing?... Did you mean to run +away, get married in secret, and then come back, go through a nice +little farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old man +will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + +I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to speak--that +was not in his power. + +He walked up and down a little. + +'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You mustn't think... +don't imagine... I see one must talk to you in a different manner. +Listen; I understand your position. You are frightened, upset.... Pull +yourself together. At this moment I must seem to you a monster... a +despot. But put yourself in my position too; how could I help being +indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you that I am +not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember how I treated you on my +arrival here and afterwards till... till lately... till the illness of +Mihail Semyonitch. I don't wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should +have thought simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the +slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + +Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still patted me +lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still ached from his violence, +and was for long after marked with blue bruises. + +'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a little +headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to think, we don't care to +consider what our advantage consists in and where we ought to seek it. +You ask me: where that advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... +It's, maybe, close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of +the family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm a man +at the same time, and you know that very well. Undoubtedly I'm a +practical person and of course cannot tolerate any sentimental nonsense; +expectations that are quite inconsistent with everything, you must of +course dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in +them?--not to speak of the immorality of such a proceeding.... You will +assuredly realise all this yourself, when you have thought it over a +little. And I say, simply and straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine +myself to what I have done for you. I have always been prepared--and I +am still prepared--to put your welfare on a sound footing, to guarantee +you a secure position, because I know your value, I do justice to your +talents, and your intelligence, and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch +stooped down to me a little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... +though I am not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I +understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy matter.' + +These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe my ears. +For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch meant to bribe me +to break with Michel, to pay me 'compensation.'... But what was he +saying? My eyes had begun to get used to the darkness and I could make +out Semyon Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was +walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly before me.... + +'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer please you?' + +'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not understand a +word. + +Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting thin laugh. + +'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young women'--he corrected +himself--'young ladies... young ladies... you all dream of nothing +else... you must have young men! You can't live without love! Of course +not. Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that it's +only young men that can love?... There are some older men, whose hearts +are warmer... and when once an old man does take a fancy to any one, +well--he's simply like a rock! It's for ever! Not like these beardless, +feather-brained young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! +They can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! Yes... yes! +And as for kissing, old men know all about that too, he-he-he...' Semyon +Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, please... your little hand... just as a +proof... that's all....' + +I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him a blow in +the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of decrepit, scared sound, he +almost fell down. There are no words in human language to express how +loathsome and infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had +left me. + +'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get away, Mr. +Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! I, too, am of your +blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I curse the day and the hour +when I was born of that ancient family!' + +'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon Matveitch, +gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very minute when I've caught +you... when you came to meet Misha... eh? eh? eh?' + +But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, desperate was +roused up within me. + +'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the insolence, +you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be so blind as not to +have seen long ago the loathing you arouse in me?... You dare use the +word offer!... Let me out at once, this instant!' + +I moved towards the door. + +'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon Matveitch piped +shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but obviously not able to make up his +mind to come near me.... 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come +here!' + +The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near flew wide +open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted candelabrum in each +hand. His round, red face, lighted up on both sides, was beaming with +the triumph of satisfied revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered +valuable service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I cease +to behold them? + +'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon Matveitch, +turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing to me with a shaking +hand. 'Be so good as to take her home and put her under lock and key... +so that she... can't stir a finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! +Till further orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll +answer for her with your head!' + +Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made Semyon +Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a malignant smile, +moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, approaches a mouse who has no chance +of escape in that way. All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the +man was capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! oh +ignominy! I shivered. + +'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + +He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He saw that I +should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed forward towards the door; +at that instant I had but one thought in my mind, to escape as quickly +as possible from the presence of Semyon Matveitch. + +But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and Ratsch +stopped me and turned me round face to face with his patron. + +'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the brother... +of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a cousin, a first cousin you +could marry? You could? eh? Take her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. +'And remember, keep a sharp look-out! The slightest communication with +her--and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + +Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, he said +nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He closed the +shutters and the doors, and then, as he was finally returning, he bowed +low to me as he had to Semyon Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, +triumphant guffaw! + +'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she didn't catch +her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad idea in its way! It's a +lesson for the future: not to keep up correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How +capitally it has all turned out though!' He went out, and all of a +sudden poked his head in at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? +Hey? I kept my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I +breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... but they +were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched the silken cord off my +dressing-gown, made a noose, and was putting it on my neck, but I flung +the cord aside again at once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What +madness, really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my +life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel wretches! No! +You have not won your game yet! He will save me, he will tear me out of +this hell, he... my Michel!' + +But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and I flung +myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and sobbed.... And only +the thought that my tormentor was perhaps at the door, listening and +triumphing, only that thought forced me to swallow my tears.... + +I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it is evening; +if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I shall not be capable +of taking up the pen again.... I must hasten, hasten to the finish! And +besides, to dwell on the hideous things that followed that dreadful day +is beyond my strength! + +Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an isolated hut, +surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, and kept shut up for six +whole weeks! I was not for one instant alone.... Later on I learnt that +my stepfather had set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his +arrival, that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's note. +I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene had taken place the +next morning between the son and the father.... The father had cursed +him. Michel for his part had sworn he would never set foot in his +father's house again, and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed +at me by my stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch +announced that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the +estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an unpardonable +offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear the brunt of the +_scandal_. Semyon Matveitch recompensed Mr. Ratsch liberally, +however: he gave him the necessary means to move to Moscow and to +establish himself there. Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought +back to the lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The +loss of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived 'thanks +to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage against me more than +ever. + +'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting with +indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got a little too +hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he made a mess of it; now, +of course, his vanity's hurt, there's no setting the mischief right +again now! If you'd only waited a day or two, it'd all have been right +as a trivet; you wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have +stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but their wit is +short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, and that pretty young +gentleman shall smart for it too!' + +I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. Semyon Matveitch +I did not once see again. The separation from his son had been a shock +to him too. Whether he felt remorse or--which is far more likely--wished +to bind me for ever to my home, to my family--my family!--anyway, he +assigned me a pension, which was to be paid into my stepfather's hands, +and to be given to me till I married.... This humiliating alms, this +pension I still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for +me.... + +We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor mother, I would +not have remained two days, not two hours, with my stepfather, after +once reaching the town... I would have gone away, not knowing where... +to the police; I would have flung myself at the feet of the +governor-general, of the senators; I don't know what I would have done, +if it had not happened, at the very moment of our starting from the +country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give me a letter +from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I read over each line, how +many times I covered it with kisses! Michel besought me not to lose +heart, to go on hoping, to believe in his unchanging love; he swore that +he would never belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he +promised to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, he +asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a little.... + +And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not have +agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his will! That +letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my anchor. Sometimes when +my stepfather would begin abusing and insulting me, I would softly lay +my hand on my bosom (I wore Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and +only smile. And the more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, +lighter, and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at last, +by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was going out of my +mind.... Following on this first letter came a second, still more full +of hope.... It spoke of our meeting soon. + +Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can see Mr. +Ratsch coming in--and triumph again, malignant triumph, in his face--and +in his hands a page of the _Invalid_, and there the announcement of +the death of the Captain of the Guards--Mihail Koltovsky. + +What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. Ratsch's +house. He hated me as before--more than before--he had unmasked his +black soul too much before me, he could not pardon me that. But that was +of no consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my own +fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think of him! I had no +interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel died with my name on his +lips.... I was told so by a servant, devoted to him, who had been with +him when he came into the country. The same year my stepfather married +Eleonora Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he +secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... In the +event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + +Two--three--years passed... six years, seven years.... Life has been +passing, ebbing away... while I merely watched how it was ebbing. As in +childhood, on some river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, +and tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking through, +from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, and then you abandon +all your vain efforts, and you are glad instead to watch all that you +had guarded ebbing away to the last drop.... + +So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray of warmth +and light....' + +The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves had been +torn off, and several lines completing the sentence had been crossed +through and blotted out. + + +XVIII + + +The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression made by +Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep all night, and +early in the morning I sent an express messenger to Fustov with a +letter, in which I besought him to come to Moscow as soon as possible, +as his absence might have the most terrible results. I mentioned also my +interview with Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. +After having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all day, +and pondered all the time on what might be happening at the Ratsches'. I +could not make up my mind to go there myself. I could not help noticing +though that my aunt was in a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to +be burnt every minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the +traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never succeed. The +visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late hour, had not been kept +secret from her: her imagination at once pictured a yawning abyss on the +edge of which I was standing, and she was continually sighing and +moaning and murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript +book entitled _Extraits de Lecture_. In the evening I found on the +little table at my bedside the treatise of De Girando, laid open at the +chapter: On the evil influence of the passions. This book had been put +in my room, at my aunt's instigation of course, by the elder of her +companions, who was called in the household Amishka, from her +resemblance to a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, +not to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the following day +was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's coming, of a letter from +him, of news from the Ratsches' house... though on what ground could +they have sent to me? Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit +her.... But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her without +first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression in my letter to +him.... I thought it was strong enough; at last, late in the evening, he +appeared. + + +XIX + + +He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate step. His +face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces of the fatigue of +the journey, there was an expression of astonishment, curiosity, and +dissatisfaction--emotions of which he had little experience as a rule. I +rushed up to him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and +after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed him the +manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very window in which +Susanna had sat two days before, and without a word to me, he fell to +reading it. I at once retired to the opposite corner of the room, and +for appearance' sake took up a book; but I must own I was stealthily +looking over the edge of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he +read rather calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on +his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not stir again. +His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his mouth slightly opened. At +last he finished the manuscript, turned it over, looked round, thought a +little, and began reading it all through a second time from beginning to +end. Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved towards +the door; but he turned round and stopped in the middle of the room. + +'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to speak. + +'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. 'I have +behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed that... Viktor--' + +'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what could he say +to you?' + +Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was ashamed, I saw +that. + +'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor alluded +to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my head. It's the cause +of everything. I began questioning him.... Well, and he--' + +'What did he say?' + +'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... Koltovsky, had +allowed Susanna that pension because... on account of... well, in fact, +by way of damages.' + +I flung up my hands. + +'And you believed him?' + +Fustov nodded. + +'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young one... In +fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + +'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + +'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, savagely,' +he repeated. + +We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was ashamed; but it +was easier for me; I was not ashamed of myself. + + +XX + + +'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued Fustov, +clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm in fault. I see now +what the whole trick was contrived for, with Susanna's marriage they +would lose the pension.... Wretches!' + +I took his hand. + +'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + +'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... early +to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + +'But you... love her, Alexander?' + +Fustov seemed offended. + +'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + +'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + +Fustov stamped impatiently. + +'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared to marry +her--she's been baptized--I'm ready to marry her even now, I'd been +thinking of it, though she's older than I am.' + +At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure was seated +in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had burnt down; it was +dark in the room. I shivered, looked more intently, and saw nothing, of +course, in the window seat; but a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, +anguish and pity, came over me. + +'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I implore you, +go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off till to-morrow! An inner +voice tells me that you really ought to see Susanna to-day!' + +Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + +'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, most +likely they're all in bed.' + +'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a presentiment.... +Please do as I say! Go at once, take a sledge....' + +'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I go now? +To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything will be cleared up.' + +'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that you would +not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only think, imagine, to +make up her mind to come to me... what it must have cost her....' + +'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had apparently +regained his self-possession completely. 'All girls are like that... at +first. I repeat, everything will be all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, +good-bye. I'm tired, and you're sleepy too.' + +He took his cap, and went out of the room. + +'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about it?' I +called after him. + +'I promise.... Good-bye!' + +I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed with my +friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was wandering with Susanna +along underground, damp passages of some sort, and crawling along +narrow, steep staircases, and continually going deeper and deeper down, +though we were trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was +all the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive tones. + + +XXI + + +Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several times.... I +opened my eyes and in the faint light of the solitary candle, I saw +Fustov standing before me. He frightened me. He was staggering; his face +was yellow, almost the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging +down, his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become of +his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a cousin who from +epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov looked like him at that +moment. + +I sat up hurriedly. + +'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + +He made no answer. + +'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + +Fustov gave a slight start. + +'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + +'What of her? Have you seen her?' + +He stared at me. + +'She's no more.' + +'No more?' + +'No. She is dead.' + +I jumped out of bed. + +'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + +Fustov turned his eyes away again. + +'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + +'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + +'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + +'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + +They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + +I seized him by the hand. + +'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + +'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I came straight +to you.' + +My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising an +irrevocable misfortune. + +'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So suddenly! Or +perhaps she took her own life?' + +'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me she died at +midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + +'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive yesterday when I +fancied I saw her in the window, when I entreated him to hasten to +her....' + +'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to Ivan +Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my thought. + +'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we both knew her! +"High-flown," said he, "all girls are like that."... And at that very +minute, perhaps, she was putting to her lips... Can one love any one and +be so grossly mistaken in them?' + +Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, like a guilty +man. + + +XXII + + +I dressed hurriedly. + +'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + +He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the absurdity of +my question. And indeed what was there to do? + +'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound to +ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime concealed. One +may expect anything of those people.... It is all to be thoroughly +investigated. Remember the statement in her manuscript, the pension was +to cease on her marriage, but in event of her death it was to pass to +Ratsch. In any case, one must render her the last duty, pay homage to +her remains!' + +I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. In the midst +of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort of unconscious feeling +of superiority over Fustov had suddenly come to the surface in me.... +Whether from seeing him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, +distracted, shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost +always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, 'you can't +be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come off better than that!' +God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to me almost like a child, and I felt +pity for him, and saw the necessity of severity. I held out a helping +hand to him, stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is +free from condescension. + +But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at me--my +authoritative tone obviously had no effect on him, and to my second +question, 'You're going to them, I suppose?' he replied-- + +'No, I'm not going.' + +'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for yourself, to +investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has left a letter... a document +of some sort....' + +Fustov shook his head. + +'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, to ask you +to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + +Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both hands, and +sobbed bitterly. + +'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, poor girl... +poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + +I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the slightest sympathy +was excited in me by those incontestably sincere sobs. I simply +marvelled that Fustov could cry _like that_, and it seemed to me +that _now_ I knew what a small person he was, and that I should, in +his place, have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If +Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have hated him, have +conceived an aversion for him, but he would not have sunk in my +esteem.... He would have kept his prestige. Don Juan would have remained +Don Juan! Very late in life, and only after many experiences, does a man +learn, at the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to +sympathise with him, and help him without a secret self-congratulation +at his own virtue and strength, but on the contrary, with every humility +and comprehension of the naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + + +XXIII + + +I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the Ratsches'; but +when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock (nothing would induce +Fustov to go with me, he only begged me to give him an exact account of +everything), when round the corner of the street their house glared at +me in the distance with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one +of the windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I +would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, and went +into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the pink cover of the +coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a corner, leaning against the +wall. In one of the adjoining rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous +muttering of the deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the +drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, who murmured +in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the dead?' She indicated the +door of the dining-room. I went in. The coffin stood with the head +towards the door; the black hair of Susanna under the white wreath, +above the raised lace of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up +sidewards, crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful +God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no pity on her, +had denied her--beauty, that would be little--even that peace, that +tender and impressive peace which is often seen on the faces of the +newly dead. The little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the +visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that face! It +looked as though she were on the point of shrieking--a shriek of +despair--and had died so, uttering no sound... even the line between the +brows was not smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back +and clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a brief +interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and attentively at her. +Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. 'That girl died by violence,' I +decided inwardly; 'that's beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at +the dead girl, the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and +uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning again, and +yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, and went out into the +passage. + +In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on the +look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. Beckoning to +me with his hand, he led me to his own room--I had almost said, to his +lair. The room, dark and close, soaked through and through with the sour +smell of stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf +or a fox. + + +XXIV + + +'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external covering.... You +understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' said Mr. Ratsch, directly the +door closed. 'Such a misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was +nothing to notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! +It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; it's what was +to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov the regimental doctor, +Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... you've probably heard of him... a +first-rate medical man, a specialist--' + +'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + +'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, at first +in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to my surprise, with a +perceptible German accent, 'he was always warning me: "Ay, Ivan +Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must be careful! Your stepdaughter has +an organic defect in the heart--hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing +and there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions above +all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my word, with a +young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... ha... ha...' + +Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, but he +recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient guffaw into a +cough. + +And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found out about +him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him whether a doctor was +called in. + +Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + +'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was already +over--abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though they were agreeing' +(Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though they had agreed), 'rupture! +rupture of the heart! That's what, with one voice, they cried out. They +proposed a post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to +that.' + +'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + +'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The procession +will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.... From +here to the church of St. Nicholas on Hen's Legs... what strange names +your Russian churches do have, you know! Then to the last resting-place +in mother earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I +make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the elevation of +your sentiments!...' + +I made haste to nod my head. + +'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has been, as they +say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz aus heiterem Himmel!' + +'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left nothing?' + +'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of paper! Only +fancy, when they called me to her, when they waked me up--she was stiff +already! Very distressing it was for me; she has grieved us all +terribly! Alexander Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he +knows.... They say he is not in Moscow.' + +'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + +'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his sledge +harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming in--the same girl I had +seen in the passage. Her face, still looking half-awake, struck me this +time by the expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when +they know that their masters are in their power, and that they do not +dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. 'Eleonora +Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + +There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other side of the +door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's imperious call: 'Why on +earth don't they put the horses in? You don't catch me trudging off to +the police on foot!' + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. 'Eleonora +Karpovna, come here!' + +'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine Toilette +gemacht!' + +'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + +Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck with two +fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned up, and had not yet +done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to her. + +'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, hurriedly pointing +his finger first to the door, then to the window. 'Please, do see to it, +as quick as possible! Der Kerl schreit so!' + +'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' responded +Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the coachman myself, but he's +taken it into his head to give the horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity +to happen so suddenly,' she added, turning to me; 'who could have +expected such a thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + +'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw up his +arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did so, and displaying +most repulsive unmentionables of chamois leather, with buckles on the +belt. 'Rupture of the heart! rupture of the external membrane! +Hypertrophy!' + +'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... Well, so +it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I say again...' And +her coarse-featured face worked a little, her eyebrows rose into the +shape of triangles, and a tiny tear rolled over her round cheek, that +looked varnished like a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young +person who ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... +And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + +'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + +'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she went away, +still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and shedding tears. + +And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a student's coat with +a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily on one side. He barely glanced +at me over his shoulder, shook his collar up, and did not nod to me, for +which I mentally thanked him. + +I went back to Fustov. + + +XXV + + +I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with downcast head and +arms folded across his breast. He had sunk into a state of numbness, and +he gazed around him with the slow, bewildered look of a man who has +slept very heavily and has only just been waked. I told him all about my +visit to Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his wife, +described the impression they had made on me and informed him of my +conviction that the unhappy girl had taken her own life.... Fustov +listened to me with no change of expression, and looked about him with +the same bewildered air. + +'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + +'Yes.' + +'In the coffin?' + +Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + +'In the coffin.' + +Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly rubbed his +hands. + +'Are you cold?' I asked him. + +'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he shook his +head stupidly. + +I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had poisoned +herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the matter could not be +left so.... + +Fustov stared at me. + +'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his eyes wide +and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if it's known about. +They won't bury her. We must let things... alone.' + +This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My friend's +practical sense had not deserted him. + +'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + +'To-morrow.' + +'Are you going?' + +'Yes.' + +'To the house or straight to the church?' + +'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the cemetery.' + +'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and began +crying. It was at these same words that he had broken into sobs in the +morning. I have noticed that it is often so with weeping; as though to +certain words, for the most of no great meaning,--but just to these +words and to no others--it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, +to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity for others +and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once describing before me +the sudden death of her daughter, and she fairly dissolved and could not +go on with her tale as soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, +Fekla. And she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... +sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + +But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by Fustov's tears. +I could not conceive how it was he did not ask me if Susanna had not +left something for him. Altogether their love for one another was a +riddle to me; and a riddle it remained to me. + +After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the sofa, +turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I waited a little, +but seeing that he did not stir, and made no answer to my questions, I +made up my mind to leave him. I am perhaps doing him injustice, but I +almost believe he was asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that +he did not feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be +unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was too +awfully well-balanced! + + +XXVI + + +The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. Fine hail was +falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a slight frost, a thaw was +close at hand, but there were cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind +flitting across in the air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, +cold-catching weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In +a black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, he +fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, shouted up to +the house, and then down into the street, in the direction of the +funeral car with a white catafalque, already standing there with two +hired carriages. Near it four garrison soldiers, with mourning capes +over their old coats, and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up +eyes, were pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long +stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair positively +stood up straight above the red face of Mr. Ratsch, and his voice, that +brazen voice, was cracking from the strain he was putting on it. 'Where +are the pine branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' +he yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The pine! Hand +over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried once more, and dashed +into the house. It appeared that in spite of my punctuality, I was late: +Mr. Ratsch had thought fit to hurry things forward. The service in the +house was already over; the priests--of whom one wore a calotte, and the +other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and oiled his +hair--appeared with all their retinue on the steps. The coffin too +appeared soon after, carried by a coachman, two door-keepers, and a +water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on +the coffin lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled +Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, surrounded +by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor stepped out in a new +uniform with a sword with crape round the handle. The coffin-bearers, +grumbling and altercating among themselves, laid the coffin on the +hearse; the garrison soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began +crackling and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to +the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the fine snow +suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white flies.' Mr. Ratsch +bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the procession started. Besides Mr. +Ratsch's family, there were in all five men accompanying the hearse: a +retired and extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded +Stanislas ribbon--not improbably hired--on his neck; the police +superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man with a meek face and greedy +eyes; a little old man in a fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger +in a tradesman's bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. +The absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such two +aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, and a hunchback +old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her blue nose), the absence of +girl friends and acquaintances struck me at first; but on thinking it +over I realised that Susanna, with her character, her education, her +memories, could not have made friends in the circle in which she was +living. In the church there were a good many people assembled, more +outsiders than acquaintances, as one could see by the expression of +their faces. The service did not last long. What surprised me was that +Mr. Ratsch crossed himself with great fervour, quite as though he were +of the orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the +responses, though only with the notes not with the words. When at last +it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed low, but did not give the +last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the contrary, went through this terrible +ordeal with the utmost composure, and with a deferential inclination of +his person invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as +though offering him entertainment, and picking his children up under the +arms swung them up in turn and held them up to the body. Eleonora +Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, suddenly broke into a roar that +filled the church; but she was soon soothed and continually asked in an +exasperated whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself +aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to convey that he +was out of sympathy with all such customs and was only performing a +social duty. The person who showed the most sympathy was the little old +man in the smock, who had been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in +the Tambov province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know +Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits at the +sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to the church. She had +somehow or other found out that the deceased woman was the very lady who +had paid me a visit, and had been thrown into a state of indescribable +agitation! She could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of +misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange chain of +circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that Susanna had been led +by love for me to commit suicide, and attired in her darkest garments, +with an aching heart and tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of +the soul of the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of +the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her too, and she +too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at me, horror-stricken.... +That elderly spinster, alas! did not regard me with indifference. On +leaving the church, my aunt distributed all her money, more than ten +roubles, among the poor. + +At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. During the +whole service I had not courage to look straight at the poor girl's +distorted face; but every time that my eyes passed by it--'he did not +come, he did not come,' it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were +just going to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain +myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why did you do +it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not come!' I fancied for the +last time.... The hammer was knocking in the nails, and all was over. + + +XXVII + + +We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in number, of +all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than an idle crowd. The +wearisome journey lasted more than an hour. The weather became worse and +worse. Halfway there Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped +gallantly on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped +through the snow when, after the fateful interview with Semyon +Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl whose life he had +ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and eyebrows were edged with snow; +he kept blowing and uttering exclamations, or manfully drawing deep +breaths and puffing out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might +have thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass to +Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript recurred again +to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; we moved up to a freshly +dug grave. The last ceremony was quickly performed; all were chilled +through, all were in haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning +hole; they began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the +energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, did he +fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing himself into an +heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly before him... he could not have +shown more energy if he had been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as +before, held himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and +rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other children +eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and earth was a source of +great enjoyment to them, for which, of course, they were in no way to +blame. A mound began to rise up where the hole had been; we were on the +point of separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in +soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, announced to all +of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited us, and also the 'reverend +clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' which had been arranged at no great +distance from the cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior +restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured friend Sigismund +Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he indicated the assistant of the +police superintendent, and added that for all his grief and his Lutheran +faith, he, Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old +Russian usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the +ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we gentlemen +commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy departed servant!' Mr. +Ratsch's proposal was received with genuine sympathy; 'the reverend +clergy' exchanged expressive glances with one another, while the officer +of roads and highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and +called him a patriot and the soul of the company. + +We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, in the +middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the first storey, stood +two tables laid for dinner, covered with bottles and eatables, and +surrounded by chairs. The smell of whitewash, mingled with the odours of +spirits and salad oil, was stifling and oppressive. The police +superintendent's assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the +clergy in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were crowded +together conspicuously; after the priests the other guests took their +seats; the banquet began. I would not have used such a festive word as +banquet by choice, but no other word would have corresponded with the +real character of the thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, +even slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were emptied, +but sighs too were audible--possibly sighs of digestion, but possibly +also of feeling. There were references to death, allusions to the +brevity of human life, and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The +officer of roads and highways related a military but still edifying +anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, and himself +contributed an interesting fact from the life of the saint, Ivan the +Warrior. The priest with the superbly arranged hair, though his +attention was chiefly engrossed by the edibles, gave utterance to +something improving on the subject of chastity. But little by little all +this changed. Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter +reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected exclamations, +caressing appellations, after the manner of 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart +alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a pig like that'--everything, in fact, of +which the Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes +unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made champagne were +popping, the party had become noisy; some one even crowed like a cock, +while another guest was offering to bite up and swallow the glass out of +which he had just been drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, +suddenly rose from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great +noise before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out with +it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even bawled 'bravo!' and +clapped his hands... but he was already sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +lifted his glass high above his head, and announced that he proposed in +brief but 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the +noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk (die +irdische Huelle) has soared to heaven, and plunged...' Mr. Ratsch +corrected himself: 'and plashed....' He again corrected himself: 'and +plunged...' + +'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a subdued but +insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish good voice; honour us +with a song, strike up: "We live among the fields!"' + +'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the guests. + +...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, turning a +severe glance in the direction of the lover of music, 'plunged all her +family into the most irreplaceable grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, +'well may the Russian proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + +'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the table, 'my +purse has just been stolen!...' + +'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box on the +ear. + +Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, till then +only growling and faintly stirring within us, had suddenly broken from +its chains and reared up, ruffled and fierce in all its hideousness. It +seemed as though every one had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as +the natural outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed +to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered and rolled +about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, hands were waving in +the air, coat-tails were flying, and a fight began in earnest. + +'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the +fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most peaceable +person in the world; it is true he had been silently drinking some dozen +glasses of spirits. 'Thrash him!...' + +Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, he had no +idea, but he bellowed furiously. + +The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads and +highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected such a speedy +termination to his eloquence, tried to restore order... but their +efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the fishmonger, even fell foul of +Mr. Ratsch himself. + +'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he yelled at him, +shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the police, and here he's crowing +over it!!' + +At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I don't know; +I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off as fast as my legs would +carry me! All I remember is a fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains +of a herring in the hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat +flying right across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a +corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... Such were +the last impressions I carried away of the 'memorial banquet,' arranged +by the excellent Sigismund Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + +After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him all of +which I had been a witness during that day. He listened to me, sitting +still, and not raising his head, and putting both hands under his legs, +he murmured again, 'Ah! my poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down +on the sofa and turned his back on me. + +A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up his life +as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a keepsake: he gave +it me without raising any objection. + + +XXVIII + + +Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow and settled +in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to Petersburg. He had entered the +department of the Ministry of Finance, but we rarely met and I saw +nothing much in him then. An official like every one else, and nothing +more! If he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, +unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses dumb-bells, and +is as much a lady-killer as ever, and sketches Napoleon in a blue +uniform in the albums of his lady friends. It happened that I had to go +to Moscow on business. In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, +that the fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an +adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, two boys, +whom as a true Russian he had christened Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but +his house had been burnt down, he had been forced to retire from his +position, and worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become +practically a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in +Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to hear an +allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most insulting allusion! +I did all I could to defend the memory of the unhappy girl, to whom fate +had denied even the charity of oblivion, but my arguments did not make +much impression on my audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, +however, a little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I +have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' + + +I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. Susanna's image +rose before me; once more I seemed to see the frozen window in my room; +I recalled that evening and the blustering snowstorm, and those words, +those sobs.... I began to ponder how it was possible to explain +Susanna's love for Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively +given way to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it +she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter truth from +the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, even? How could she +fling herself at once headlong into the abyss? Because she was +passionately in love with Fustov, I shall be told; because she could not +bear the slightest doubt of his devotion, of his respect for her. +Perhaps; or perhaps because she was not at all so passionately in love +with Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but simply +rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over the thought that +even this man had at once, at the first breath of slander, turned away +from her with contempt! Who can say what killed her; wounded pride, or +the wretchedness of her helpless position, or the very memory of that +first, noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully pledged +herself in the morning of her early days, who had so deeply trusted her, +and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps at the very instant when I +fancied that her dead lips were murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul +was rejoicing that she had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The +secrets of human life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable +of those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of Susanna +rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity for her, and of +angry reproach against fate, and my lips whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy +girl! unhappy girl!' + +1868. + + + + + + +THE DUELLIST + + +I + + +A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the village of +Kirilovo, in the K--- province. That village, with its huts and +hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and gaunt willows, looked from a +distance like an island in a boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth +fields. In the middle of the village was a small pond, invariably +covered with goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces +from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden +manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one side. Behind +the house stretched the deserted garden; in the garden grew old +apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall birch-trees, full of rooks' +nests. At the end of the principal garden-walk, in a little house, once +the bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, gasping and +groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag himself across the garden +to the seignorial apartments, though there was nothing to take care of +in them except a dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two +podgy chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with +holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken nose. The +owner of the house, a careless young man, lived partly at Petersburg, +partly abroad, and had completely forgotten his estate. It had come to +him eight years before, from a very old uncle, once noted all over the +countryside for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles +are to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with rubbish of +all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured covers, scantily +filled with writing, old-fashioned glass lustres, a nobleman's uniform +of the Catherine period, a rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. +In one of the lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his +abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim and +sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, an emotional +person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, fond of flowers and female +society. The social life of the officers of this regiment did not differ +from any other kind of society. Among their number were good people and +bad, clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch +Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. Lutchkov was a +short and not thick-set man; he had a small, yellowish, dry face, lank, +black hair, unnoticeable features, and dark, little eyes. He had early +been left an orphan, and had grown up among privations and hardships. +For weeks together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at once--as +though he were possessed by some devil--he would let no one alone, +annoying everybody, staring every one insolently in the face; trying, in +fact, to pick a quarrel. Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof +from intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate terms +with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play cards, and did +not drink spirits. + +In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the manoeuvres, +there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor Fedorovitch Kister, a +Russian nobleman of German extraction, very fair-haired and very modest, +cultivated and well read. He had lived up to his twentieth year in the +home of his fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and +his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely to the +wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age could not see a white +plumed helmet without emotion.... He served with no special enthusiasm +but with energy, as it were conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a +dandy, but was always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of +his arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior officers, +and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had brought with him some +cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so forth. He papered all the walls +and the doors, put up some screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a +stable, and a kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole +week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards to go into +his room. Before the window stood a neat table, covered with various +little things; in one corner was a set of shelves for books, with busts +of Schiller and Goethe; on the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and +guns; near the table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; +there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and locked; the +windows were hung with curtains. Everything in Fyodor Fedoritch's room +had a look of cleanliness and order. + +It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. Often one +could scarcely make one's way across the muddy yard; in the outer room, +behind a canvas screen, with its covering peeling off it, would lie +stretched the snoring orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, +boots and a broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped +card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, half-full of cold, +dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, rickety, greasy sofa; on the +window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would +find the master of the place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson +plush facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, and +a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass collar would be +snoring at his side.... All the doors always ajar.... + +Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new comrades. They +liked him for his good-nature, modesty, warm-heartedness, and natural +inclination for everything beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in +another officer they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They +called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their manners +with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed him dubiously. One +day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, slightly pursing up his lips +and inflating his nostrils: + +'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + +Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + +'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + +'My name's Kister, sir.' + +'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. Lutchkov +looked after him with a grin. + +Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + +'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + +Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey +Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant glee. + +'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + +'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and +ill-bred--do you hear?--stupid and ill-bred.' + +'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + +'When you like,... to-morrow.' + +Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and +to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, +took him by the hand and begged his pardon. Kister had to keep indoors +for a fortnight. Avdey Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him +and on Fyodor Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was +pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling akin to +remorse was roused in his soul--it's hard to say... but from the time of +his duel with Kister, Avdey Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and +called him first Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he +became quite another man and--strange to say!--the change was not in his +favour. It did not suit him to be gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not +call forth in any one anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that +class of persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of +authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts essential for +the justification of such a privilege. Having received no education, not +being distinguished by intelligence, he ought not to have revealed +himself; possibly his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of +the defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself +altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at first +forced himself to despise people, then he began to notice that it was +not a difficult matter to intimidate them, and he began to despise them +in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed cutting short by his very approach all but +the most vulgar conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, +and I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall know +nothing and not show off your talents before me....' Kister, perhaps, +had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had taken up--just because before +his acquaintance with him, the bully had never met any one genuinely +idealistic, that is to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in +dreams, and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + +Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe and +quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in Kister's company +abashed by his own ignorance; he relied--and with good reason--on his +German modesty. + +'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been reading, I'll +bet, eh?' + +'Yes, I read....' + +'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell away.' +Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the end. + +'I read Kleist's _Idyll_. Ah, what a fine thing it is! If you don't +mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And Kister translated with +fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up his forehead and compressing his +lips, listened attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, +with a disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, I've +read it... very fine.' + +'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were reluctantly, +'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + +And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the Fourteenth, while +Lutchkov listened, totally failing to understand a great deal, +misunderstanding a part... and at last venturing to make a remark.... +This threw him into a cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' +he thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. But +Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the good-hearted youth was +inwardly rejoicing that, as he thought, the desire for enlightenment was +awakened in a fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for +enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God knows why he +did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself what sort of head he, +Lutchkov, had, whether it was really dull, or simply untrained. 'So I +really am stupid,' he said to himself more than once with a bitter +smile; and he would draw himself up instantly and look rudely and +insolently about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some +comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my man, you're +so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter between his teeth. +'I'll show you... that's all....' + +The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of Kister and +Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer ways. 'The devil's made +friends with the baby,' they said.... Kister was warm in his praises of +his friend on all hands; no one disputed his opinion, because they were +afraid of Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name +before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the perfumed +adjutant. + + +II + + +The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving balls, +inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off their daughters. + +About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just such a country +gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four hundred souls, and a +fairly spacious house. He had a daughter of eighteen, Mashenka, and a +wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. Perekatov had once been an officer in the +cavalry, but from love of a country life and from indolence he had +retired and had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of +the middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence in a not +perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished gentleman of Moscow. + +Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, as it is +called, in his own house, but got her off his hands rather hurriedly, at +the first offer, as a not very marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was +ugly; the distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten +thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To Mr. +Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a highly educated, +intellectual young lady... who was, after all, so closely related to so +illustrious a personage. This illustrious personage extended his +patronage to the young people even after the marriage, that is to say, +he accepted presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my +dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna took complete +possession of her husband, managed everything, and looked after the +whole property--very sensibly, indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. +Perekatov could have done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too +much; but she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and +dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper for a country +gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov grew a little Napoleonic +beard on his chin, to cover a large wart, which looked like an over-ripe +raspberry. Nenila Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that +her husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always let the +beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their instrument more +comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in the early morning, wore a +high, clean stock, and was well combed and washed. He was, moreover, +well content with his lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and +slept all he could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household +'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few servants, +and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by ambition; she wanted at +least to be the wife of the marshal of the nobility of the district; but +the gentry of the district, though they dined at her house to their +hearts' content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired +premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major Burundukov. +Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a product of the capital. + +Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her father. Nenila +Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with her education. She spoke +French well, and played the piano fairly. She was of medium height, +rather plump and white; her rather full face was lighted up by a kindly +and merry smile; her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her +pleasant voice--everything about her was gently pleasing, and that was +all. On the other hand the absence of all affectation and +conventionality, an amount of culture exceptional in a country girl, the +freedom of her expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks +could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her own free +will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in restraint. + +One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the Perekatovs were in +the drawing-room. The husband in a round green coat, a high check +cravat, and pea-green trousers with straps, was standing at the window, +very busily engaged in catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her +embroidery frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and +gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa, +gazing in silence at the floor. + +'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, Sergei +Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + +'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chere.' (He was under the +strictest orders not to call her 'little mother.') 'To be sure!' + +'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila Makarievna. 'Nobody +for the girls to dance with.' + +Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of partners. + +'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov asked?' + +'What Lutchkov?' + +'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting person.' + +'How's that?' + +'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every one's afraid of +him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma frowned a little.) 'I should so +like to see him.' + +Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + +'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he must look +like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just beginning to talk +about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I declare, my dear, there was a time +when I had a terrible character as a fighting man.' + +Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped up and +kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, too... but Sergei +Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + +'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila Makarievna. +'Possibly he may come too.' + +The daughter sighed. + +'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked Sergei +Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that nowadays--so--what shall +I say?--romantic...' + +'No,' Masha responded simply. + +Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei Sergeitch played +with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, then took his wide-brimmed, +English hat from the table, and set off to see after things on the +estate. + +His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent animal, she +was well aware that her master was not a person of very great authority in +the house, and behaved herself accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + +Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her head, and +looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell me when you fall in +love?' she asked. + +Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head several +times in the affirmative. + +'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her cheek, and she +went out after her husband. Masha leaned back in her chair, dropped her +head on her bosom, interlaced her fingers, and looked long out of +window, screwing up her eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh +cheeks; with a sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but +dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting the tips of +her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at her own shoulder, at her +outstretched hand, got up, went to the window, laughed, put on her hat +and went out into the garden. + +That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. Madame +Perekatov with great affability received and 'entertained' the ladies, +Mashenka the girls; Sergei Sergeitch talked about the crops with the +gentlemen and continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived +the young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at last +the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, Kister and Lutchkov. +He presented them to the lady of the house. Lutchkov bowed without +speaking, Kister muttered the customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. +Perekatov went up to the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him +in the face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked +forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a dance. At +that time the _Ecossaise_ was still flourishing. + +'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after galloping twenty +times to the end of the room, they stood at last, the first couple, 'why +isn't your friend dancing?' + +'Which friend?' + +Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + +'He never dances,' answered Kister. + +'Why did he come then?' + +Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the pleasure...' + +Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred into our +regiment, I think?' + +'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not long.' + +'Aren't you dull here?' + +'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the scenery!'... +Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. Masha listened to him, +without raising her head. Avdey Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, +looking indifferently at the dancers. + +'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + +'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + +'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added hurriedly. + +'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + +'They say every one's afraid of him.' + +Kister laughed. + +'And you?' + +'I'm a friend of his.' + +'Really?' + +'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. They +started and began galloping again right across the room. + +'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up to him +after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does nothing but ask +questions about you.' + +'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + +'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; only look at +her.' + +'Which of them is she?' + +Kister pointed out Masha. + +'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + +'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask another girl +to dance. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister had +mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned loudly. To arouse +curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: love he despised--in +words--but inwardly he was himself aware that it would be a hard and +difficult task for him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him +to win love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of indifference, +of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was unattractive and no longer +young; but on the other hand he enjoyed a terrible reputation--and +consequently he had every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, +unspoken enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he had +attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to get upon more +friendly terms with him, but he repelled their advances with exasperated +obstinacy; he knew that sentiment was not in his line (during tender +interviews, avowals, he first became awkward and vulgar, and, through +anger, rude to the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that +the two or three women with whom he had at different times been on a +friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the first moment of +closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse made haste to get away +from him... and so he had at last schooled himself to remain an enigma, +and to scorn what destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only +sort of scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, spontaneous, +that is to say good, demonstration of passion suited Lutchkov; he was +bound to keep a continual check on himself, even when he was angry. +Kister was the only person who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke +into laughter; the kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous +delight of sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from +Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering looks, like +a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, Lutchkov never left his +corner, scowled, glanced stealthily at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at +once threw an expression of indifference into his own. Masha danced +three times with Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with +confidence. She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not +at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + +A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up and down, +tapping with their heels, and tossing the epaulettes on their shoulders; +the civilians tapped with their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir +from his place, and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they +whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; his +neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before him with +downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov for the first +moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he carelessly took off his +sword, threw his hat on the floor, picked his way awkwardly among the +arm-chairs, took Masha by the hand, and went round the circle, with no +capering up and down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an +unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + +'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + +'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + +'Where's your place?' + +'Over there.' + +Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her and coolly +returned to his corner... but there was an agreeable stirring of the +spleen within him. + +Kister asked Masha for a dance. + +'What a strange person your friend is!' + +'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly twinkle of +his blue and kindly eyes. + +'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + +'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch laughed. + +'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook her head with +an important air. + +'Me not know? How's that?'... + +Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, +and walked away into the other room. + + +III + + +Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had not once been +at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them pretty often. Nenila +Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but it was not she that attracted +Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had +not yet talked himself out, he derived great pleasure from the +interchange of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in +the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a young man and +a young girl. + +One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him rapidly along +to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, close and sultry. Not a +cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky was so thick and dark on the horizon +that the eye mistook it for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had +erected for a summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the +steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. Nenila +Makarievna had every shutter closed from early morning. Kister walked +into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. The light lay in long lines on +the floor and in short, close streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila +Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. Perekatov settled +himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; Masha sat near the window at +her embroidery frame, Kister facing her. Masha, without opening her +frame, leaned lightly over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began +telling her something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for +something, looked from time to time towards her father, and all at once +stretched out her hand. + +'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more softly... papa's +asleep.' + +Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, with his +head hanging and his mouth a little open. + +'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + +'You will laugh at me.' + +'Oh, no, really!...' + +Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face remained +uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not without hesitation, +asked Kister why it was he never brought Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was +not the first time Masha had mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did +not speak. Masha glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + +'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + +'Oh, why not? of course.' + +'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on you.' + +'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to examine +the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of light lay on her +hair; 'no... but...' + +'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + +'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted her head, so +that the streak of light fell straight in her eyes; 'don't you see... +he...' + +'He interests you....' + +'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, turned her +head a little away and in that position went on talking. 'There is +something about him so... There, you're laughing at me,' she added +suddenly, glancing swiftly at Fyodor Fedoritch. + +Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + +'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha went on: 'I +know that you are a very'... (she nearly said great) 'good friend of +mine.' + +Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her hand to him; +Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers respectfully. + +'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again she propped +her elbows on the frame. + +'Queer?' + +'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha added +slily. + +'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined solemnly. 'They +don't know him in our regiment, they don't appreciate him, they only see +his external side. He's embittered, of course, and strange and +impatient, but his heart is good.' + +Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + +'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need to be afraid +of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... I'll tell him... Oh! +yes, I know what to say... Only you mustn't suppose, though, that I +would...' (Kister was embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... +'Besides, after all, of course you only... like him....' + +'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + +Kister looked mischievously at her. + +'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll bring him to +you....' + +'Oh, no....' + +'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange +everything.' + +'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her finger at +him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + +'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with surprise. This +doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. Masha and Kister began +discussing Schiller. + +Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt something like a +stir of envy within him... and was generously indignant with himself. +Nenila Makarievna came down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. +Mr. Perekatov made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then +explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog wagged its +tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. When at last the great +heat began to lessen, and an evening breeze blew up, the whole family +went out for a walk in the birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually +glancing at Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would +carry out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and happy +and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, plunged into a +rather high-flown discourse upon love in the abstract, and upon +friendship... but catching Nenila Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye +he, as abruptly, changed the subject. The sunset was brilliant and +glowing. A broad, level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. +Masha took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' +Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with his wife, +Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential little shrieks; Mr. +Perekatov's valet had the temerity to separate Nenila Makarievna from +her spouse; one of the servant-girls respectfully paired off with her +master; Fyodor Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he +regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, all +flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, passing her hand +over her hair. After supper, Kister took leave. + +It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He was +excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said at last, almost +aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them together; I will justify her +confidence in me.' Though there was as yet nothing to prove a definite +passion for Lutchkov on Masha's part, though, according to her own +account, he only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up +a complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. He +resolved to sacrifice his feelings--the more readily as 'so far I have +no other sentiment for her but sincere devotion,' thought he. Kister +really was capable of sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised +duty. He had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of +experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the truth of his +suppositions; he did not suspect that life is endlessly varied, and +never repeats itself. Little by little, Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself +into a state of ecstasy. He began musing with emotion on his mission. To +be the mediator between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered +only because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; to +bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, and then to +withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of his sacrifice, what a +splendid feat! In spite of the coolness of the night, the simple-hearted +dreamer's face burned.... + +Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a pipe. +Kister greeted him. + +'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some solemnity. + +'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + +'Yes. They are splendid people.' + +'Really?' + +'We talked about you.' + +'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + +'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + +'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + +'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + +'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + +'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a clever, sweet +and sensitive girl.' + +Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' + + +'But I assure you....' + +'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked sarcastically. + +'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + +'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + +'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + +'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my hearth,' +Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + +'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with vexation. + +With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more than +before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen Sie deutsch, Ivan +Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, 'don't be angry.' + +'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside him. 'You +know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) 'But there's one +thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... it's just that you won't make +friends with any one, that you will stick at home, and refuse all +intercourse with nice people. Why, there are nice people in the world, +hang it all! Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been +embittered, what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of +course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast me off +some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + +Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + +'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness knows what +some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister after a brief silence; +'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + +'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + +Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + +'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to reconcile you with +life. You will grow happier, blossom out... yes, blossom out. How I +shall rejoice then! Only you must let me dispose of you now and then, of +your time. To-day it's--what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on +Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the Perekatovs'. They +will be so glad to see you... and we shall have such a jolly time +there... and now let me have a pipe.' + +Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at the +ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and began drumming +on the panes with his fingers. + +'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + +'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + +'What did they say?' + +'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your acquaintance.' + +'Which of them's that?' + +'I say, what curiosity!' + +Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be saddled. + +'Where are you off to?' + +'The riding-school.' + +'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + +'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + +'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the street, +pondered, and sighed deeply. + + +IV + + +Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the arrival of +Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly returned to her own +room, and went up to the looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing +violently. A girl came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a +little water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. Mr. +Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa; +Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing his uniform, with his hat +on his knees; Kister was near him. They both got up on Masha's +entrance--Kister with his usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn +and constrained air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her +mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha recovered +herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To the questions +addressed to him by the lady of the house, he answered briefly, but +uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic people. Nenila Makarievna +suggested a stroll in the garden to her guests, but did not herself go +beyond the balcony. She did not consider it essential never to lose +sight of her daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a +fat reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in the +steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha talked more with +Kister, but did not dare to look either at him or at Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch did not address a remark to her; Kister's voice showed +agitation. He laughed and chattered a little over-much.... They reached +the stream. A couple of yards or so from the bank there was a +water-lily, which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, +encircled by its broad, round leaves. + +'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + +She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out his sword, +clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a willow, and, bending his +whole body over the water, cut off the head of the flower. 'It's deep +here, take care!' Masha cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his +sword brought the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, +picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted amazement at +Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't swim...' Lutchkov observed +abruptly. Masha did not like that remark. 'What made him say that?' she +wondered. + +Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the evening. +Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's soul; a dreamy +perplexity was reflected more than once in her face. She moved somehow +more slowly, she did not flush on meeting her mother's eyes--on the +contrary, she seemed to seek them, as though she would question her. +During the whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; +but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When they had +both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a few days, she +quietly went off to her own room, and for a long while, as it were, in +bewilderment she looked about her. Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed +and embraced her as usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say +something--and did not utter a word. She wanted to confess---she did not +know what. Her soul was gently wandering in dreams. On the little table +by her bedside the flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean +glass. Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her elbow, +and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white petals.... + +'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like the +Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + +Lutchkov did not answer. + +'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + +'Really, I don't know.' + +'Nonsense, come now!' + +'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not bad-looking.' + +'There, you see...' said Kister--and he said no more. + +Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that they should +call on the Perekatovs. + +Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor Fedoritch's absence +he would have had to keep up a conversation, and that he could not do, +and as far as possible avoided. + +On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more at her ease. +She was by now secretly glad that she had not disturbed her mamma by an +uninvited avowal. Before dinner, Avdey had offered to try a young horse, +not yet broken in, and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it +completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking and +laughing--and though he soon pulled himself up, yet he had succeeded in +making a momentary unpleasant impression on Masha. She could not yet be +sure herself what the feeling exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, +but everything she did not like in him she set down to the influence of +misfortune, of loneliness. + + +V + + +The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. Kister's +position became more and more painful. He did not regret his action... +no, but he desired at least to cut short the time of his trial. His +devotion to Masha increased daily; she too felt warmly towards him; but +to be nothing more than a go-between, a confidant, a friend even--it's a +dreary, thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great deal +about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of suffering... but to +Kister's warm and simple heart his sufferings were not a source of any +bliss whatever. At last, one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to +fetch him, and the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, +to the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he should +stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and angry... Kister +pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + +The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his comrades in +peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his spirit had not +'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet he certainly had toned down +a little. He could not have been called 'disillusioned' before--he had +seen and experienced almost nothing--and so it is not surprising that +Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched though; only his +spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for him were of a strange kind. +She almost never looked him straight in the face; she could not talk to +him.... When they happened to be left alone together, Masha felt +horribly awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt overawed +by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did not understand him, +and was unworthy of his confidence; miserably, drearily--but +continually--she thought of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, +soothed her and put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed +nor excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours together, +leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, looking +affectionately into his face, and laughing with his laughter--and she +rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov there was something enigmatic for the +young girl; she felt that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained +every effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So children +stare a long while into a deep well, till at last they make out at the +very bottom the still, black water. + +On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was at first +scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more than once fancied +that there existed some sort of misunderstanding between Lutchkov and +her, that he had not hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. +Lutchkov mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents expressed +their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at Avdey, and felt faint +with expectation. After dinner they were left alone; Masha did not know +what to say, she sat down to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly +and tremblingly over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting +for the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for music. +Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was at that time just +coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... Avdey Ivanovitch responded: +'Quite so,' 'by no means,' 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. +Masha played some brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. +Lutchkov listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, +his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped up at once +and closed the piano. She went up to the window, and for a long while +stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not stir from his seat, and still +remained silent. Impatience began to take the place of timidity in +Masha's soul. 'What is it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' +It was Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his +miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... 'It was +the devil's own notion to have anything to do with the wretched girl,' +he muttered to himself.... And all the while how easy it was to touch +Masha's heart at that instant! Whatever had been said by such an +extraordinary though eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would +have understood everything, have excused anything, have believed +anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of vexation were +standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be open, if I am really not +worthy of his confidence, why does he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps +it is that I don't set the right way to work to make him reveal +himself?'... And she turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, +so searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her glance, +and could not keep silence any longer.... + +'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I ought to +tell you something....' + +'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + +Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + +'I can't now...' + +'Why not?' + +'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + +'Why, we are alone now.' + +'Yes... but... here in the house....' + +Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, 'it's all +over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + +'I agree,' she said at last. + +'When then? Where?' + +Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + +'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the Long +Meadow?'... + +'Behind the mill?' + +Masha nodded. + +'What time?' + +'Wait...' + +She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she turned pale +and went quickly out of the room. + +A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his characteristic +politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, pressed his hand feelingly, +and begged him 'not to forget them'; then, having let out his guest, he +observed with dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to +shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn air to his +own room, with the same careworn air sat down on the sofa, and +guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + +'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her daughter, +on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite well?' + +'Yes, mamma.' + +Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's neck. + +'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that motherly +solicitude in which there is none the less audible a note of parental +authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy too. You're not well, +Masha.' + +'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of escape. + +'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on Masha's +forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + +Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + +Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender waist. + +'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she said +caressingly, not loosing her hands. + +Masha shuddered inwardly. + +'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + +Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's attention. + +'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + +But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and instead of +answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a laugh. + +'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + +'No, really, nothing.' + +'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short silence. 'I +know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's true, isn't it?' + +'Of course, mamma.' + +Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + +'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep anything from +me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + +'Oh yes, mamma.' + +And Masha hugged her. + +'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked about the +room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of one who feels that the +question asked is of no special importance; 'what were you talking about +with Avdey Ivanovitch to-day?' + +'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all sorts of +things....' + +'Do you like him?' + +'Oh yes, I like him.' + +'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how excited +you were?' + +Masha turned away and laughed. + +'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed +good-humouredly. + +Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held her tongue. + +'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer fish, but +still he's a nice man!' + +'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + +'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch wanted to +make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + +'What? Accept his present?' + +'Yes.' + +'Of course.' + +'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + +Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned back again. + +'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + +'What promise?' + +'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + +'I remember.' + +'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed musically.) 'Look +into my eyes.' + +Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + +'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt reassured. 'As if +she could deceive me!... How could I think of such a thing!... She's +still a perfect baby....' + +She went away.... + +'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + + +VI + + +Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his room. The +bully's face never expressed _one_ feeling; so it was now: feigned +indifference, coarse delight, consciousness of his own superiority... a +number of different emotions were playing over his features. + +'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question him. + +'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + +'Well? Are they all well?' + +'Of course, why not?' + +'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + +'Yes, I think so.' + +Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister looked +down and mused. + +'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring voice, +'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured fellow, but +you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for all that, if I may +venture to say so.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking +them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, +they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!' + +'I like and respect women, but------' + +'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not going to +argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain man.' + +'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just now,... are you +talking about women?' + +'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + +Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple heart!) +that Masha had been treating him badly; had been torturing him, perhaps, +as only women can.... + +'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + +Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + +'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he said, in a +drawling tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. 'No, only, look +here, Fedya,' he went on with the manner of a preceptor, 'I was only +going to point out that you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. +You believe me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a +little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things in your own +hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + +'Oh!' + +Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + +'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I shouldn't +have thought there was anything. There isn't anything, is there? And +here, I've a clandestine appointment for to-morrow.' + +Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement at Lutchkov. + +'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued serenely. +'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's only a bit of fun. +It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty little girl,... well, says I, +why not? Marriage, of course, I'm not going in for... but there, I like +to recall my young days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats--but +I may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the nightingales +together. Of course, it's really more in your line; but the wench has no +eyes, you see. I should have thought I wasn't worth looking at beside +you.' + +Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. His head +was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand over his face. +Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, screwed up his eyes, +stretched, and putting down Kister's emotion to jealousy, was almost +gasping with delight. But it was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; +he was wounded, not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse +carelessness, his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He +was still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for the +first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it was he had been +scheming for! This for which he had sacrificed his own inclinations! +Here it was, the blessed influence of love. + +'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he muttered at +last. + +'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant chuckle. + +Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even then; perhaps, +thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is 'humbugging' from old +habit... he has not yet found a new language to express new feelings. +And was there not in himself some other feeling lurking under his +indignation? Did not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply +because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps Lutchkov really +was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a thousand times no! That man in +love?... That man was loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his +nervous, cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, not +in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted friend the secret +of his love.... In overflowing happiness, in dumb rapture, with bright, +blissful tears in his eyes would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + +'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect it, and +now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? eh?' + +Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to the wall. +'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he whispered to himself. 'He +wouldn't understand me... so be it! He supposes none but evil feelings +in me--so be it!...' + +Avdey got up. + +'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I don't want to +be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... pleasant dreams!' + +And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + +Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With feverish +persistence he turned over and over and thought over and over the same +single idea--an occupation only too well known to unhappy lovers. + +'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she has flung +herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with me, with his friend, +to speak so disrespectfully, so offensively of her! In what way is she +to blame? How could any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced +girl? + +'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She has--yes, +she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he never tells a lie. But perhaps +it means nothing, a mere freak.... + +'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of insulting +her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for anything.... And wasn't it I +myself that praised him up and exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her +curiosity?... But who could have known this? Who could have foreseen +it?... + +'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... But, after +all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! What a lesson!' + +All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. 'Yes, I did +like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my liking cooled so +suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why did I ever like him? I +alone?' + +Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the very reason +that all the rest avoided him. But the good-hearted youth did not know +himself how great his good-heartedness was. + +'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? What right +have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in other people's love? +How do I know the nature of that love? Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, +no!' he said aloud, with irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out +his pillow, 'that man's stone.... + +'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious friend, +indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a sickening egoist I +am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I wish them happiness.... +Happiness! but he is laughing at her!... And why does he dye his +moustaches? I do, really, believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' +he repeated, as he fell asleep. + + +VII + + +The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When they met, +Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, too, found a change +in him, but neither spoke of it. The whole morning they both, contrary +to their habit, felt uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number +of hints and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but all +this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown away. Masha was +vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; she fancied that he +pronounced some words with intentional significance; but she was +conscious, too, of her own excitement, and did not trust her own +observations. 'If only he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what +she was thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that he +was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness and her +uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more afraid he was for her +the more impossible he found it to speak of Lutchkov; while Masha +obstinately refrained from uttering his name. It was a painful +experience for poor Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his +own feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She had, to +all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint flush stood in +patches on her pale face; her figure was faintly drooping; an +unconscious, weary smile never left her lips; now and then a shiver ran +over her white shoulders; a soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and +quickly faded away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and +possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in her mother's +presence Masha was armed _jusqu'aux dents,_ as the French say, and +she did not betray herself at all. So passed the whole morning. + +'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + +Masha turned away. + +'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. 'Excuse me... +duties of the service...' + +Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, following +her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I don't want to be in the +way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, as he passed her, but he bowed down +and whispered instead: 'Be happy... farewell... take care of +yourself...' and was gone. + +Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then felt +panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting her? Love or +curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity alone was enough to +ruin Eve. + + +VIII + + +Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground on the right +of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile from the Perekatovs' +property. The left bank, completely covered by thick young oak bushes, +rose steeply up over the stream, which was almost overgrown with willow +bushes, except for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild +ducks. Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long Meadow, +began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here and there with old +birch-trees, nut bushes, and guelder-roses. + +The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the distance, +sounding louder or softer according to the wind. The seignorial drove of +horses was lazily wandering about the meadows; a shepherd walked, +humming a tune, after a flock of greedy and timorous sheep; the +sheepdogs, from boredom, were running after the crows. Lutchkov walked +up and down in the copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near +by, more than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of the +mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered and shy, as +usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt wrathful with her and +annoyed with himself... but his excitement smothered his annoyance. He +stopped at last before a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip +switching off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + +He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces from him +stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a hat, but with no +gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily tied kerchief round her neck. +She dropped her eyes instantly, and softly nodded.... + +Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + +'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + +'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I +usually walk here in the evening... and you...' + +But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her +innocent deception. + +'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, 'you yourself +suggested...' + +'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you +wanted...' Her voice died away. + +Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + +'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not +used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, +I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....' + +'Speak.' + +'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long +while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...' + +Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence. + +'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no +changing one's destiny...' + +'How can one know?...' + +'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!' + +It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for +Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + +'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; +'some even too kind....' + +'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your +friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?' + +'No.... What do you want to say?' + +'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully +charming....' + +'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching +with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went +on--'look, what a view!' + +She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and +flushed red with the sunset. + +Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov +began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha.... + +'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little +head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which +is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls. + +'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's +pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine +sentiments are not in my line.' + +Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief silence +followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + +'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, though! Come, +more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in a fairly resolute voice. + +Masha turned to him. + +'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my side know +what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so to say,... amiably +disposed towards my person?' + +'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do you know, +Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's not always easy to +give a direct answer to a direct question.' + +'Still...' + +'But what is it to you?' + +'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + +'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?' +said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you have killed more than +one man?' + +'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his +moustaches. + +Masha looked intently at him. + +'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood had caught +fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had +been moving before his eyes. + +'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, 'you +know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for.... You've +been so kind.... You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for....' + +Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced sideways at +Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense you do talk,' and gave +him the flower. + +Avdey seized her hand. + +'And so you love me!' he cried. + +Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest +idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure +herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was +forestalling her, forcing her to speak out--he must be misunderstanding +her then.... This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. +She had never expected such a speedy _denouement._... Masha, like +an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: 'Can it be that +Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a +respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with +him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting +to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + +Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough moustaches on +her cheek.... + +'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other happiness on +earth!' + +Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, +stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly +confused. + +'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect really...' + +Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A disagreeable smile +twisted his lips... patches of red came out on his face.... + +'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great matter.... +Why, we understand each other... and so....' + +Masha did not speak. + +'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing but...' Lutchkov +stretched out his hand to her. + +Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, sinking with +terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, 'Taniusha!' + +From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... Avdey was +completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence of her hand-maiden, +Masha did not stir. But the bully was shaking all over with rage; his +eyes were half closed; he clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + +'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick--no denying that!' he cried out. + +Masha was petrified. + +'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya Sergievna! +Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! Nowadays young ladies +see further than old men. So this is all your love amounts to!' + +'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to speak about +love... what love?' + +'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what next!' He felt +he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but he could not restrain +himself. + +'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to your request, +relying upon your _delicatesse_... but you don't know French... on +your courtesy, I mean....' + +Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + +'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very well that you +have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + +'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + +'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut her short +peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + +'Mr. Lutchkov...' + +'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's trouble thrown +away! you don't impress me.' + +Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked away. + +'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd lad, your +tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after her. He had lost his +head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + +Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She felt light +at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. She felt as though she +had waked up from a troubled sleep, had stepped out of a dark room into +air and sunshine.... Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless +frenzy he broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously +drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at the reins +that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a quarter of an hour and +almost expired the same night. + +Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next morning he +went round himself to see him. The orderly informed Fyodor Fedoritch +that his master was lying down and had given orders that he would see no +one. 'He won't see me even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked +twice up and down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and +then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + +'From whom?' + +'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + +Kister's hands began to tremble. + +'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to wait for +your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + +'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,--I want very, very much to see you. +Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I entreat you, +for the sake of our old friendship. If only you knew... but you +shall know everything. Good-bye for a little while,--eh? + +MARIE. + +'P.S.--Be sure to come to-morrow.' + + +'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's countenance, +and went out without uttering a word. + +'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a drink +with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the postillion. + + +IX + + +Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet Kister, when he +came into the drawing-room, she pressed his hand so warmly and +affectionately, that his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight +seemed rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however, say a single word, +and she promptly left the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the +sofa, playing patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not +yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the conversation round +from all extraneous topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a +plaid silk sash, Kister's favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all +laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up spirit and +described one of the merriest pranks of his youthful days, hiding his +head from his wife like an ostrich, as he told the story. + +'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to Kister after +dinner with that note of affectionate authority in her voice which is, +as it were, conscious that you will gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk +to you about something very, very important,' she added with enchanting +solemnity, as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, +_maman_?' + +'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + +'But we are not going into the garden.' + +'Where then?' + +'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + +'Take Taniusha with you.' + +'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly as a bird +from the room. + +A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the Long +Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of bread to her +favourite cow, patted it on the head and made Kister stroke it. Masha +was in great good humour and chatted merrily. Kister responded +willingly, though he awaited explanations with impatience.... Taniusha +walked behind at a respectful distance, only from time to time stealing +a sly glance at her young lady. + +'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + +'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + +'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + +'You were out of humour... that was all.' + +'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. That's +right.... You were out of humour too.' + +'Yes, I was too.' + +'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + +'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + +'And do you know why? Because...' + +Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because I am with +you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + +Kister softly pressed her hand. + +'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an undertone. + +'What about?' + +'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + +'I was waiting for...' + +'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him +impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, because you +are incapable... _parceque vous avez de la delicatesse_. One can +say that to you: you understand French.' + +Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least understand +Masha. + +'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha admired it, +and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from his arm, with an anxious +smile she began carefully sticking the tender stalk in the buttonhole of +Kister's coat. Her slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at +the fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though to say +'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of her gloves. + +Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha became +suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent altogether. They came +to the very place where Lutchkov had waited for her. The trampled grass +had not yet grown straight again; the broken sapling had not yet +withered, its little leaves were only just beginning to curl up and +fade. Masha stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + +'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about your +friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + +Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + +'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I made... an +appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + +'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + +'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before yesterday... Mr. +Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of his _conquest_.' + +Kister was about to answer.... + +'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know he's your +friend. You are capable of taking his part. You knew, Kister, you +knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me from acting so stupidly? Why +didn't you box my ears, as if I were a child? You knew... and didn't you +care?' + +'But what right had I...' + +'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your friend.... I'm +ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That man behaved to me yesterday, +as if...' + +Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + +'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, don't be +angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of yesterday's +explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' added Masha. 'What do you +suppose I am telling you about it for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? +Nonsense! I've forgotten about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good +friend.... I want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... +your advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease with +you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + +'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with difficulty; +'but...' + +'Why _but_? Aren't you ashamed to say _but_? He is coarse, +_and_ clumsy, _and_ ill-natured, _and_ conceited.... Do +you hear?--_and_, not _but_.' + +'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya Sergievna,' Kister +observed mournfully. + +'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like this when +they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may think what you like of +me... but if you imagine I am flirting with you to-day from pique, +well... well...' (tears stood in her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + +'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + +'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not open with +you, don't you see right through me?' + +'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a smile, seeing +with what anxious insistence she tried to catch his eyes. 'But tell me, +what induced you to arrange to meet Lutchkov?' + +'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to me alone. I +fancied he had never had time, never had an opportunity to speak freely. +He has spoken freely now! Do you know, he may be an extraordinary man, +but he's a fool, really.... He doesn't know how to put two words +together. He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him +much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. I hardly +ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, certainly, but I +imagined that a man who was worthy of being your friend...' + +'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister interposed. + +'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + +'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a friend.... +Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' Kister added hurriedly. + +Masha looked intently into his face. + +'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. It's a +lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. For several months +past I have almost every day seen a man who is good, clever, bright, +friendly who...' (Masha was confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, +cared... a little... for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on +quickly, 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + +She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + +Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept repeating to +himself. + +'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + +Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with unshed tears. + +'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + +Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha at once +clutched it warmly. + +'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you answer?' + +'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + +'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You understand me? +You're not laughing at a girl who made an appointment only yesterday +with one man, and to-day is talking to another, as I am talking to +you.... You're not laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed +crimson, she clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + +'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love you... I love +you,' he cried. + +Masha hid her face. + +'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + + +X + + +Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in his room, +writing the following letter to his mother:-- + +Dearest Mother!--I make haste to share my great happiness with you; I am +going to get married. This news will probably only surprise you from my +not having, in my previous letters, even hinted at so important a change +in my life--and you know that I am used to sharing all my feelings, my +joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for silence are not easy to +explain to you. To begin with, I did not know till lately that I was +loved; and on my own side too, it is only lately that I have realised +myself all the strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters +from here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am +engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly convinced that we +shall both be happy. My feeling for her is not a fleeting passion, but a +deep and genuine emotion, in which friendship is mingled with love. Her +bright, gentle disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is +well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you could only +see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I need hardly say she is +a hundred times better-looking than her portrait. Masha loves you +already, like a daughter, and is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. +I mean to retire, to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. +Mr. Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent +condition. You see that even from the material point of view, you cannot +but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come to Moscow and to you. +Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My own dearest mother, how happy I +am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + +Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the window, lighted +a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the table. He took out a small +sheet of notepaper, carefully dipped his pen into the ink, but for a +long while he did not begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes +to the ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his mind, +and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had composed the following: + +'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,--Since the day of your last visit (that is, for +three weeks) you have sent me no message, have not said a word to me, +and have seemed to avoid meeting me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to +act as he pleases; you have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I +do not, believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any way. +It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon any one +whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not to blame in the +matter. I am writing to you now from a feeling of duty. I have made an +offer to Marya Sergievna Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and +also by her parents. I inform _you_ of this fact--directly and +immediately--to avoid any kind of misapprehension or suspicion. I +frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel great concern about the +good opinion of a man who himself shows so little concern for the +opinions and feelings of other people, and I am writing to you solely +because I do not care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to +be acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and will not +ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. Addressing you for +the last time, I cannot, for the sake of our old friendship, refrain +from wishing you all good things possible on earth.--I remain, +sincerely, your obedient servant, Fyodor Kister.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed his +uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. Light-hearted and +happy, he walked up and down his little room humming, even gave two +little skips in the air, twisted a book of songs into a roll, and was +tying it up with blue ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a +coat without epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. +Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, without +finishing the bow he was tying. + +'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a calm voice. + +Kister fired up. + +'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say good-morning +when they come into another man's room.' + +'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. +'Good-morning.' + +'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to marry Miss +Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + +'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I congratulate +you.' + +'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I must be +starting.' + +'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, Fyodor +Fedoritch.' + +'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured fellow. 'I +must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your behaviour to me has +been so strange, and I think, on my side, I have not deserved... at +least, I had no reason to expect... But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you +like a pipe?' + +Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible in his +movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his eyebrows. + +'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you keep it up +with me so long?...' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you were just +such another as all the rest of us sinners all the while?' + +'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some way?...' + +'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak more plainly. +Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you had a liking for the +Perekatov girl all along, or is it a case of sudden passion?' + +'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my relations +with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + +'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to believe that +you've been humbugging me.' + +Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + +'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + +'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark forest, +and the best side of goods is always turned uppermost. I know you read +German poetry with great feeling and even with tears in your eyes; I +know that you've hung various maps on your walls; I know you keep your +person clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + +Kister began to lose his temper. + +'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object of your +visit? You have sent no message to me for three weeks, and now you come +to me, apparently with the intention of jeering at me. I am not a boy, +sir, and I do not allow any one...' + +'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor Fedoritch, +who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the other way; I've come to +you with a most humble request, that is, that you'd do me the favour to +explain your behaviour to me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who +forced me to make the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you +assure your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into +flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous Marya +Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to _you_ I'm indebted +for that final agreeable scene, of which you have doubtless been +informed in befitting fashion? An engaged girl, of course, tells her +betrothed of everything, especially of her _innocent_ indiscretions. +How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been made such a +terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest in my "blossoming out," +you know!' + +Kister walked up and down the room. + +'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you really--joking +apart--are convinced of what you say, which I confess I don't believe, +then let me tell you, it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an +insulting construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to +justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your memory.' + +'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya Sergievna. +Besides that, let me ask you another question: Weren't you at the +Perekatovs' after a certain conversation with me, after that evening +when I like a fool chattered to you, thinking you my greatest friend, of +the meeting she'd arranged?' + +'What! you suspect me...' + +'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with cutting +iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I have the weakness +to suppose that other men are no better than I am.' + +'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men are better +than you.' + +'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; 'but...' + +'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly infuriated, +'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... of... But these +explanations are leading to nothing, I see.... Think what you choose of +me, and act as you think best.' + +'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're beginning to +speak plainly.' + +'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + +'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on with an +affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, certainly. A man has been +acting, acting a part, and no one has recognised him as a humbug; and +all of a sudden...' + +'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, 'that it +was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I should feel sorry for +you; I could excuse you.... But in your abuse, in your false charges, I +hear nothing but the shriek of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy +for you.... You have deserved what you've got.' + +'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. 'Pride,' he +went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, has been mortified +intensely and insufferably. But who isn't proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm +proud, and for instance, I permit no one to feel sorry for me....' + +'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an expression, +sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you yourself have broken. I must +beg you to behave with me as with a complete outsider.' + +'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. 'Understand me; I +have sent you no message, and have not been to see you because I was +sorry for you; you must allow me to be sorry for you, since you 're +sorry for me!... I didn't want to put you in a false position, to make +your conscience prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you +could remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you were +only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied superiority...' + +Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + +'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. 'I must own +I don't see why you've been pleased to come to me.' + +'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked inquiringly. + +'I certainly don't see why.' + +'N--o?' + +'No, I tell you...' + +'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it of a fellow +of your intelligence!' + +'Come, speak plainly...' + +'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his feet, 'I +have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you understand now? I want to +fight you. Ah! you thought you could get rid of me like that! Why, +didn't you know the sort of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + +'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept your +challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + +'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to let his +victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll own to put a +bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance to-morrow.' + +'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister rejoined +contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of you.' + +'Oh, to be sure, _delicatesse_!... Ah, Marya Sergievna, I don't +know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on his cap. 'Till we meet again, +Fyodor Fedoritch!' + +He bowed and walked out. + +Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face burned, his +breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor anger; but it sickened +him to think what this man really was that he had once looked upon as a +friend. The idea of the duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to +him.... Once get free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, +and then to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I shall +be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed to smile to him, +to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be killed! not I!' he repeated +with a serene smile. On the table lay the letter to his mother.... He +felt a momentary pang at his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending +it off. There was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of +which a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all the +possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and himself in all +the agonies of misery and parting, and looked forward to the future with +hope. He swore to himself not to kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly +drawn to Masha. He paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and +directly after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening Kister +was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + +Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of evil, and +flirted charmingly with him. At first her unconsciousness wounded him, +then he took Masha's very unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was +rejoiced and reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him +every day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than passion. +Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated desires, and she +renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila Makarievna loved Kister +like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual followed his wife's lead. + +'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the hall and +gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and tenderly kissed her +hands. + +'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till we meet.' + +But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' house, he stood +up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness began looking for the +lighted windows.... All in the house was dark as in the tomb. + + +XI + + +Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an old major +of tried merit, came for him. The good old man growled to himself, bit +his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey Ivanovitch everything +unpleasant.... The carriage was brought to the door. Kister handed the +major two letters, one for his mother, the other for Masha. + +'What's this for?' + +'Well, one can never tell...' + +'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + +'Any way it's better...' + +The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side pocket of +his coat. + +'Let us start.' + +They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the village of +Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his former friend, the +perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, the birds were twittering +peacefully; not far from the copse a peasant was tilling the ground. +While the seconds were marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, +examining and loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at +one another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, swinging a +flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, with folded arms and +scowling brow. The decisive moment arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister +went rapidly towards the barrier, but he had not gone five steps before +Avdey fired, Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His +head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack on the +grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it possible?' whispered the +dying man. + +Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and sunken face +was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He looked at the adjutant +and the major, bent his head like a guilty man, got on his horse without +a word, and rode slowly straight to the colonel's quarters. + +Masha... is living to this day. + + + + + + +THREE PORTRAITS + + +'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of life in the +country. I knew a country gentleman of the Vologodsky district, who used +on every suitable occasion to repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I +have no neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that happy +mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the most thickly +peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by a vast number of dear +neighbours, from highly respectable and highly respected country +gentlemen, attired in ample frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, +down to regular loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a +so-called shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I +chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He had served in +the army, had retired and settled for good and all in the country. +According to his story, he had served for two years in the B------ +regiment. But I am totally unable to comprehend how that man could have +performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but even for two +days. He was born 'for a life of peace and country calm,' that is to +say, for lazy, careless vegetation, which, I note parenthetically, is +not without great and inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair +property, and without giving too much thought to its management, spent +about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent cook--my +friend was fond of good fare--and ordered too from Moscow all the newest +French books and magazines. In Russian he read nothing but the reports +of his bailiff, and that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not +go out shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till dinner-time +and at dinner. He would look through plans of some sort, or go round to +the stables or to the threshing barn, and joke with the peasant women, +who, to be sure, in his presence wielded their flails in leisurely +fashion. After dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the +looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed of two or +three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and unconcernedly with +one of them, play blind-man's-buff with them, return home rather late +and promptly fall into a heroic sleep. He could never be bored, for he +never gave himself up to complete inactivity; and in the choice of +occupations he was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child +with the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no particular +attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced to get a glimpse of +the track of a wolf or a fox, he would let his horse go at full gallop +over such ravines that to this day I cannot understand how it was he did +not break his neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of +persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know their own +value, that under their appearance of indifference strong and violent +passions lie concealed. But he would have laughed in one's face if he +could have guessed that one cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed +I must own I believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in +youth some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so sweetly +called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long ago died out. He was +rather stout and enjoyed superb health. In our day one cannot help +liking people who think little about themselves, because they are +exceedingly rare... and my friend had almost forgotten his own +personality. I fancy, though, that I have said too much about him +already, and my prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero +of my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + +One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, gathered +together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the whole morning out, had +run down a couple of foxes and a number of hares, and had returned home +in that supremely agreeable frame of mind which comes over every +well-regulated person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. +The wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging the +bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's house. We +reached the house, got off our horses.... On the steps I stood still and +looked round: long storm-clouds were creeping heavily over the grey sky; +a dark-brown bush was writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; +the yellow grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; +flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes among the +bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among the light brittle +twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped whistling. In the village +there was the hoarse barking of dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was +with a genuine sense of comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The +shutters were closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of +dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, there were +eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a fire glowed cheerfully +on the hearth, and an old and very stately-looking butler, with a huge +bald head, wearing an English dress, stood before another table on which +was pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by light +savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by another venerable man, +engaged in icing champagne--'according to the strictest rules of the +art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly pleasant. +We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's shooting, and +recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' After dining pretty +heartily, we settled comfortably into ample arm-chairs round the fire; a +huge silver bowl made its appearance on the table, and in a few minutes +the white flame of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable +intention 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some taste; +he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal an influence on +the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light of a lamp, and so he gave +orders that only two candles should be left in the room. Strange +half-shadows quivered on the walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the +fire in the hearth and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly +agreeable sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat +boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + +Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin proverb +says, like everything in the world. Our conversation that evening was +particularly many-sided and lively. From details it passed to rather +serious general questions, and lightly and casually came back to the +daily incidents of life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all +sank into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is flying +over. + +I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my tongue because +my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three dusty portraits in black +wooden frames. The colours were rubbed and cracked in places, but one +could still make out the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a +young woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up high, in +the style of the eighties of last century. On her right, upon a +perfectly black background, there stood out the full, round face of a +good-natured country gentleman of five-and-twenty, with a broad, low +brow, a thick nose, and a good-humoured smile. The French powdered +coiffure was utterly out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic +face. The artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson +colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding some +unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was the work of some +other more skilful hand, represented a man of thirty, in the green +uniform, with red facings, of the time of Catherine, in a white shirt, +with a fine cambric cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the +other lay on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of +insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew together over +the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely discernible lips played +an evil smile. + +'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch asked me. + +'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + +'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three persons?' + +'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + +Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the portraits, and +in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, +'this lady was the adopted child of my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna +N.N., called Lutchinov, who died forty years ago unmarried. This +gentleman,' he pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a +lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, expired by the +will of God in the year seventeen hundred and ninety. And this +gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of being related, is a certain +Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... +Kindly take note of the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the +heart should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, would +be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, 'he went on in +his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm yourselves with patience, +and listen.' + +Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not proud of +my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all fearful prodigals. Though +that reproach cannot indeed be made against my great-grandfather, Ivan +Andreevitch Lutchinov; on the contrary, he had the character of being +excessively careful, even miserly--at any rate, in the latter years of +his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived through the reign +of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and had by his wife, my +great-grandmother, four children, three sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, +my grandfather, and one daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch +took into his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and +destitute orphan--Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just now. My +great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his existence, for they +used (when nothing particularly unlucky occurred) to send him a trifling +rent, but they had never seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, +deprived of the bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing +exceedingly, when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family +coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's hut. The +peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, ran up and saw their +master and mistress and all their young ones, except the eldest, +Vassily, who was left behind in Petersburg. From that memorable day down +to the very day of his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. +He built himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure of +conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, and began +living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan Andreevitch was a man of +immense height, thin, silent, and very deliberate in all his movements. +He never wore a dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen +him without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his hands +clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. Every day he +used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, which he had planted with +his own hand; and before his death he had the pleasure of enjoying the +shade of those trees. Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his +words; a proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable fact +that in the course of twenty years he had not said a single word to his +wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with Anna Pavlovna altogether were of +a very curious sort. She directed the whole management of the household; +at dinner she always sat beside her husband--he would mercilessly have +chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word to her--and +yet he never spoke to her, never touched her hand. Anna Pavlovna was a +pale, broken-spirited woman, completely crushed. She prayed every day on +her knees in church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they +had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, lived on very +cordial terms with one another. They did say too that Anna Pavlovna had +been untrue to her matrimonial vows; that her conduct had come to her +husband's knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, +even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last illness, she +never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. One night, Anna +Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's bedroom--he suffered from +sleeplessness--a lamp was burning before the holy picture. My +grandfather's servant, Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words +later, went out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and +sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, tried to +say something--stretched out her hands... Ivan Andreevitch looked at +her, and in a faint voice, but resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant +went in; Anna Pavlovna hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her +place. + +Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. They grew up +in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan Andreevitch's strange +treatment of his wife. They all loved Anna Pavlovna passionately, but +did not dare to show their love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof +from them.... You remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his +death he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is the +force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan Ivanovitch, were +simple, good-hearted people, quiet and depressed. My grand'tante Natalia +married, as you are aware, a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life +she cherished an unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But +their brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that Ivan +Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then twelve. His father +confided him to the care of a distant kinsman, a man no longer young, a +bachelor, and a terrible Voltairean. + +Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but was +well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French excellently, and was +renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. He was considered one of the +most brilliant young men of the beginning of the reign of Catherine. My +father used often to tell me that he had known more than one old lady +who could not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt +emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional strength +of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and daring, reserved in +the extreme, and--according to the testimony of all his +contemporaries--fascinatingly, captivatingly attractive. He had no +conscience, no heart, no principle, though no one could have called him +positively a bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his +vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When Vassily +Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling affectionately, when +he wanted to fascinate any one, they say it was impossible to resist him; +and even people, thoroughly convinced of the coldness and hardness of +his heart, were more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his +personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, and made +other people, too, work for his advantage; and he was always successful +in everything, because he never lost his head, never disdained using +flattery as a means, and well understood how to use it. + +Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, he came for +a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant officer of the Guards, +and in that time succeeded positively in turning the head of the grim +old man, his father. Strange to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with +enjoyment to his son's stories of some of his _conquests_. His +brothers were speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of +a higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder of him +than any of her other children who were so sincerely devoted to her. + +Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily to visit his +people, but also with the second object of getting as much money as +possible from his father. He lived sumptuously in the glare of publicity +in Petersburg, and had made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get +round his father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on +this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his other +children together during twenty years spent under his roof, Vassily +followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what you can!' + +Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such another tall, +thin, taciturn person as his master. They say that this man Yuditch was +partly responsible for Ivan Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna +Pavlovna; they say he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue +with one of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely Yuditch +deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would be difficult to +conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory is held in veneration by +all my house-serfs to this day. My great-grandfather put unbounded +confidence in Yuditch. In those days landowners used to have money, but +did not put it into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in +chests, under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his +money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the head of his +bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to Yuditch. Every evening as +he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch used to bid him open the coffer in his +presence, used to tap in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a +stick, and every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and +carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these doings, and +burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred coffer. In the course of +five or six days he had _softened_ Yuditch, that is, he had worked +on the old man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young +master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on a careworn +and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer Yuditch's questions, +and at last told him that he had lost at play, and should make an end of +himself if he could not get money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, +flung himself on his knees before him, begged him to think of God, not +to be his own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering +a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously knocking at +his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway Yuditch pale and +trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily took in the whole position +at a glance. At first, for a long while, he refused to take it. With +tears Yuditch repeated, 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... +Vassily at last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to +Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of crockery. He +reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags with his stick, and not +noticing the hardly perceptible difference in the sound, and by Saturday +he hoped to obtain and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, +so he did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by Saturday +Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to win the sum from a +rich neighbour at cards, and instead of that, he lost it all. Meantime, +Saturday had come; it came at last to the turn of the bags filled with +broken crocks. Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + +'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + +'You stole the money?' + +'No, sir.' + +'Then some one took the key from you?' + +'I didn't give the key to any one.' + +'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + +'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + +'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So you're deceiving +me! For the last time I tell you--confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and +folded his hands behind his back. + +'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. 'A stick!' + +'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + +'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a thief! O +Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + +'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' Yuditch +articulated with effort. + +'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your service!' + +The servants came in. + +'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan Andreevitch's lips were +white and twitching. He walked up and down the room like a wild beast in +a small cage. + +The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + +'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to undertake him +myself, eh?' + +Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + +'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last time I tell +you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + +'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + +'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood be on my +head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The flogging began.... The door +suddenly opened, and Vassily came in. He was almost paler than his +father, his hands were shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare +a row of even, white teeth. + +'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I took the +money.' + +The servants stopped. + +'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + +'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily Ivanovitch the key +of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily Ivanovitch! why does your honour +trouble?' + +'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, Vassily, +thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you anyway. Why didn't +you tell me all about it directly? Hey, you there! why are you standing +still? do you too resist my authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, +my pretty gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + +The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + +'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The men did not +heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon them.... They stepped +back. + +'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his stick, he +approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched at the handle of his +sword, and bared it to half its length. Every one was trembling. Anna +Pavlovna, attracted by the noise, showed herself at the door, pale and +scared. + +A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. He tottered, +dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an arm-chair, hiding his face +in both hands. No one stirred, all stood rooted to the spot, Vassily +like the rest. He clutched the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his +eyes glittered with a weary, evil light.... + +'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in a low +voice, not taking his hands from his face. + +The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, then +suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his mother's hand... +and two hours later he had left the place. He went back to Petersburg. + +In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the steps of the +house serfs' hut. The servants were all round him, sympathising with him +and bitterly reproaching their young master. + +'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... why do you +abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare say is not very happy at +his audacity....' + +In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father again. +Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably with such a load of +sorrow on his heart as God grant none of us may ever know. Vassily +Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into the world, enjoyed himself in his own +way, and squandered money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I +cannot tell for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart +and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was passionately +attached to him and aided him in all his numerous manoeuvres. I do not +intend to relate in detail all the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was +possessed of such unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such +inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I must own I can +understand the complete sway that unprincipled person exercised even +over the noblest natures. + +Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, Vassily +Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He fought a duel, +seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced to leave the capital; he +was banished to his estate, and forbidden to leave it. Vassily +Ivanovitch was thirty years old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with +what feelings he left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used +to, and came into the country. They say that he got out of the hooded +cart several times on the road, flung himself face downwards in the snow +and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would have known him as the gay and +charming Vassily Ivanovitch they had seen before. He did not talk to any +one; went out shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid +caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in his ridicule +of his brothers, and of their wives (they were both married by that +time).... + +I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga Ivanovna. She +had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; she all but died on the +road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, as they say, in the fear of God and +her betters. It must be admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna +both treated her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint +spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily Ivanovitch. While +Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not dare even to wonder about the +cause of the strange, dumb feud between their parents, Olga was from her +earliest years disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like +Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. She was +devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old Lutchinov she +detested, and more than once, sitting at table, she shot such black +looks at him, that even the servant handing the dishes felt +uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never noticed these glances, for he +never took the slightest notice of his family. + +At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, but some bold +questions of Olga's forced her to complete silence. The children of Ivan +Andreevitch adored Olga, and the old lady too was fond of her, but not +with a very ardent affection. + +Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and every strong +feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear a proof of Vassily's +captivating charm as that he had made even his mother love him +passionately. Demonstrations of tenderness on the part of children were +not in the spirit of the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that +Olga did not dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna +Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said good-night to her. +Twenty years later, Russian girls began to read romances of the class of +_The Adventures of Marquis Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the +Cottage in the Forest_; they began to play the clavichord and to sing +songs in the style of the once very well-known: + + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. + + +But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born in 1757) +our country beauties had no notion of such accomplishments. It is +difficult for us now to form a clear conception of the Russian miss of +those days. We can indeed judge from our grandmothers of the degree of +culture of girls of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is +one to distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of their +long lives from what they were in the days of their youth? + +Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong Russian accent: +in her day there was as yet no talk of French emigrants. In fact, with +all her fine qualities, she was still pretty much of a savage, and I +dare say in the simplicity of her heart, she had more than once +chastised some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + +Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna had been +betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch Rogatchov, a very +good-natured and straightforward fellow. Nature had forgotten to put any +spice of ill-temper into his composition. His own serfs did not obey +him, and would sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and +leave poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could trouble the +peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been stout and indolent, +had never been in the government service, and was fond of going to +church and singing in the choir. Look, gentlemen, at this round, +good-natured face; glance at this mild, beaming smile... don't you +really feel it reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals +to drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with him his +Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every possible way. +Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on Ivan Andreevitch on his +own account, fell in love with Olga Ivanovna, and offered her his hand +and heart--not to her personally, but to her benefactors. Her +benefactors gave their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga +Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the words of my +grandmother, 'such refinements were not the thing.' Olga soon got used +to her betrothed, however; it was impossible not to feel fond of such a +gentle and amiable creature. Rogatchov had received no education +whatever; his French consisted of the one word _bonjour_, and he +secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose person had +taught him the following lines, as a French song: 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! +Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa--I adore you--me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed +song he always used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His +father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore a long +nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded with a smile. +From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, +father and son, had been tremendously busy. They had been having their +house entirely transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a +friendly way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had +not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put off the +wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan Andreevitch died; the +wedding was deferred till the following spring. In the winter Vassily +Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov was presented to him; he received him +coldly and contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by +his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a leaf at the +very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled nervously. Vassily once +almost annihilated him altogether--by making him a bet, that he, +Rogatchov, was not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost +cried with, embarrassment, but--actually!--a smile, a stupid, nervous +smile refused to leave his perspiring face! Vassily toyed deliberately +with the ends of his neckerchief, and looked at him with supreme +contempt. Pavel Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, +and after an interval of a few days--'for the sake of greater +formality'--he sallied off to Lutchinovka with the object of +'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent to the halls of his +ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed all over the countryside for his +eloquence--that is to say, for his capacity for enunciating without +faltering a rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of +bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not sustain his +reputation; he was even more disconcerted than his son, Pavel +Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite inarticulate, and though he +had never been used to taking vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to +carry things off'--he found Vassily at lunch,--tried at least to clear +his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in making the +slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel Afanasievitch whispered to his +parent, 'Well, father?' Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a +whisper, 'Don't speak of it!' + +The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at Lutchinovka. Though +indeed they were not the only people intimidated by Vassily; he awakened +in his own brothers, in their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an +instinctive feeling of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid +him in every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but +apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to them. Suddenly, +at the beginning of the spring, he became once more the charming, +attractive person they had known of old... + +The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's unexpected +visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in particular, was fairly +disconcerted at the sight of Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very +quickly vanished. Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. +He took young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new +buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, with his own +hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, asked to be shown Afanasey +Lukitch's stud horses, himself trotted them out on a halter, and +altogether so affected the good-hearted children of the steppes by his +gracious affability that they both embraced him more than once. At home, +too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to turn every one's +head just as before. He contrived all sorts of laughable games, got hold +of musicians, invited the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, +told the old ladies the scandals of the town in the most amusing way, +flirted a little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, +fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every thing and +every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the Lutchinovs was suddenly +converted into a noisy, brilliant, enchanted palace of which the whole +countryside was talking. This sudden transformation surprised many and +delighted all. All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. +Sagacious persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been +crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw chances of +returning to the capital... but the true cause of Vassily Ivanovitch's +metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + +Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her beauty consisted +rather in the extraordinary softness and freshness of her shape, in the +quiet grace of her movements than in the strict regularity of her +features. Nature had bestowed on her a certain independence; her +bringing up--she had grown up without father or mother--had developed in +her reserve and determination. Olga did not belong to the class of quiet +and tame-spirited young ladies; but only one feeling had reached its +full possibilities in her as yet--hatred for her benefactor. Other more +feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's heart with +abnormal and painful violence... but she had not the cold pride, nor the +intense strength of will, nor the self-centred egoism, without which any +passion passes quickly away. + +The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive natures is +sometimes extremely violent; but they give way very quickly, especially +when it is a question of relentless conformity with accepted principles; +they are afraid of consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly +confess, women of that sort always make the strongest impression on me. +... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. Rubbish! +rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; nothing in the world +makes a strong impression on you, my dear fellow!) + +Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in race. Olga +Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her foster sister, Natalia. +How did this blood show itself, do you ask? Why, in everything; in the +lines of her hands, in her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her +glance, in her carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In +all these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am bound to +admit that the--how can one express it?--_la distinction_, which +had fallen to Olga Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's +notice had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the wilds, +she not only caught his attention, she was positively the sole cause of +the transformation of which I have just been speaking. + +Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy life; he could +not but be bored in the country; his brothers were good-natured fellows, +but extremely limited people: he had nothing in common with them. His +sister, Natalia, with the assistance of her husband, had brought into +the world in the course of three years no less than four babies; between +her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to church, +prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. There remained only +Olga--a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... Vassily did not notice her at +first... indeed, who does notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from +charity in the house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, +Vassily was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off the +heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, which come out +first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon as they begin to grow +green. He was walking in the garden in front of the house; he lifted his +head, and caught sight of Olga Ivanovna. + +She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a tabby +kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, and with great +satisfaction held up her little nose into the rather hot spring +sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white morning gown, with short +sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, girlish shoulders and arms were a picture +of freshness and health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her +thick, soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was only +just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so charmingly; there +was such seductive negligence, such modesty in the restful pose of her +figure, free from corsets, that Vassily Ivanovitch (a great +connoisseur!) halted involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred +to him that Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive +ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very sweet and +charming woman. He stole up to the window, stretched up on tiptoe, and +imprinted a silent kiss on Olga Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little +below the elbow. + +Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the air and +leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a smile kept her by the +arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her ears; he began to rally her on her +alarm... invited her to come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became +suddenly conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than +the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + +The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was suddenly +happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love with Olga, no! the word +'love' is not to be used lightly.... He had found an occupation, had set +himself a task, and rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did +not even remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's +betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was fully aware +that it was not for her to be his wife.... Possibly there was passion to +excuse him--not a very elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a +fairly strong and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like +a boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very well what he +wanted and what he was striving for. + +Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in the shortest +time, any one however shy or prejudiced against him. Olga soon ceased to +be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch led her into a new world. He ordered +a clavichord for her, gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly +well on the flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with +her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head turned +completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew how to tell her of +what had been till then unknown to her, and to tell her in a language +she could understand. Olga little by little gained courage to express +all her feelings to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the +words she could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her +back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily busied himself +with her education from no disinterested desire to awaken and develop +her talents. He simply wanted to draw her a little closer to himself; +and he knew too that an innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more +easily seduced through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an +exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for he treated +her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, there was nothing +specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried all he could to work on her +imagination, and often in the evening she left his side with such a +whirl of new images, phrases and ideas in her head that she could not +sleep all night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning +cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went to the +window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark distance. Vassily +filled every moment of her life; she could not think of any one else. As +for Rogatchov, she soon positively ceased to notice his existence. +Vassily had the tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; +but he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or arranged some +noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a boating party by night with +torches and music--he did not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a +chance to think clearly. + +But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov dimly felt that +he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had somehow become as it were +an outsider to her... but in the boundless goodness of his heart, he was +afraid of wounding her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and +prized her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what to +say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two months passed +by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, disappeared at last in Olga. +Rogatchov, feeble and tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had +no wish even to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she +surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + +Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of the bliss of +love; but it was not for long. Though Vassily--for lack of other +occupation--did not drop her, and even attached himself to her and +looked after her fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she +found no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away from +Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did not dare to +think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, and was devoured by +misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in carrying her along with him and +making her forget everything and every one. But the very next day he +would find her pale, speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on +her lips.... There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but +no difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a skilled +gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga Ivanovna; she was +continually betraying herself, turning pale, blushing, weeping... her +new part was utterly beyond her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his +restless and boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have +detected something strained and feverish. He played his brothers, +sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns at chess. He was +everlastingly on the alert. Not a single glance, a single movement, was +lost on him, yet he appeared the most heedless of men. Every morning he +faced the fray, and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the +least oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four +hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was healthy, fresh, +and good-humoured. + +Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded in +persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of delay. Then +he despatched him to Moscow to make various purchases, while he was +himself in correspondence with friends in Petersburg. He took all this +trouble, not so much from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural +bent and liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning +to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a violent outbreak +of passion for her, he would look at her, as he sometimes did at +Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a riddle to every one. In the +coldness of his relentless soul you felt the presence of a strange +almost southern fire, and even in the wildest glow of passion a breath +of icy chill seemed to come from the man. + +Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But when they +were alone, he played with her like a cat with a mouse, or frightened +her with sophistries, or was wearily, malignantly bored, or again flung +himself at her feet, swept her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and +there was no feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was +moved himself. + +One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting alone in his +room, attentively reading over the last letters he had received from +Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a faint creak at the door, and Olga +Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, came in. + +'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + +'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + +'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing there for?' +he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + +'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants to see +you,' she said. + +'Why, what's the matter?' + +'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + +Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and went in to +Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, pale and passive. + +'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + +Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + +'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + +He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... She tried +to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman had no possible +doubt of her condition left her. + +Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a couple of +steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily cautiously sat down by Olga, +kissed and chafed her hands, comforted her in whispers. She listened to +him, and silently, faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, +stealthily wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even +ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. Olga +Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and stifled sobs. Tears +are like a storm; after them one is always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna +had quieted down a little, and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, +like a child, Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender +promises, soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her +to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote two or three +letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a gold locket containing +the portrait of a black-browed, black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous +face, scrutinised her features slowly, and walked up and down the room +pondering. + +Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor Olga's red +and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After breakfast he proposed a +stroll in the garden to her. Olga followed Vassily, like a submissive +sheep. When two hours afterwards she came in from the garden she quite +broke down; she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down +on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable show of +remorse, informed her that he was secretly married--he was really as +much a bachelor as I am. Olga Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon--people +don't fall into swoons except on the stage--but she turned all at once +stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to marry Vassily +Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think about it. Vassily had begun +to explain to her the inevitableness of her parting from him and +marrying Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. Vassily +talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, blamed himself, +expressed his regret, but concluded all his remarks with the following +words: 'There's no going back on the past; we've got to act.' + +Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and shame; a +dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for death, and waited in +agony for Vassily's decision. + +'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at last. + +Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + +'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust to me, I +won't desert you... I will make everything right... rely upon me.' + +The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and deep, but +hopeless devotion. + +'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her at +parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly hands.... + +Next morning--Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her bed--her door +opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in the doorway. She was supported +by Vassily. In silence she got as far as an arm-chair, and in silence +she sat down. Vassily stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows +were knitted and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, +indignant, angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga +Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her lover, with a +terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on her knees with a shriek in +the middle of the room, and hid her face in her hands. + +'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and bent down to +her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching Olga by the arm. + +'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me not to be +hard on her.' + +'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + +'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + +This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in her chair, +and burst into sobs. + +Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung herself at +the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, raised her from the +ground, and led her to another arm-chair. Anna Pavlovna went on weeping +and muttering disconnected words.... + +'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the trouble may +yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + +Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + +'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at Olga Ivanovna, +'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable family with impunity...' + +Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + +'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + +'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, her youth, +he--you wish to say something'--he broke off, seeing that Olga made a +movement towards him.... + +Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + +'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her this very +day. You may be sure I will not let him make a laughing-stock of us....' + +'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + +He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence again. + +'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. Look, she +is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon me; I answer for +everything; in any case, wait till I return. I tell you again, don't +torture her, or yourself, and trust to me.' + +He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come with me, leave +her alone, I beg of you.' + +Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down to the +ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, without a word or a +movement, looked after them. + +Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in her ear, +'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' +he called, running swiftly down the stairs, 'Bourcier!' + +A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage with his +valet. + +That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to the +district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his servants. Pavel +Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, looking through a collection +of faded butterflies. With lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was +carefully, with a pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night +sphinx' moth, when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on +his shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + +'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some amazement. + +Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + +Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at Vassily, and +subsided with his mouth open and his hands clasped. + +'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are you meaning +to dance at your _wedding soon?_' + +'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and your sister +... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + +'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel +Afanasievitch.' + +'How so?' + +'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I know all; +you understand me, and I order you without delay to-morrow to marry +Olga.' + +'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from his seat; +'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of myself and there's no +need to give me orders.... I confess, Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite +understand you.' + +'You don't understand me?' + +'No, really, I don't understand you.' + +'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + +'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself put off +our wedding more than once? Except for you it would have taken place +long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking it off. What is the meaning +of your threats, your insistence?' + +Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + +'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated +emphatically. + +'Excuse me... I will... but...' + +'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + +'Who has confessed?' + +'Olga Ivanovna.' + +'Why, what has she confessed?' + +'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? I'm not a +stranger to you.' + +'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I positively +don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna confess?' + +'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + +'May God slay me...' + +'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you understand?' + +'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing Vassily. 'Olga +Ivanovna... you tell me...' + +'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'--Vassily with a smile +patted him on the shoulder--'though you do look so innocent.' + +'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you mean, +explain, for God's sake!' + +Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + +Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + +Vassily stamped. + +'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + +'Yes... your betrothed...' + +'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I never wish +to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Good-bye to her for ever! +What do you take me for? I'm being duped... I'm being duped... Olga +Ivanovna, how wrong of you, have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from +his eyes.) 'Thanks, Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never +wish to see her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful +Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, very well!' + +'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. 'Remember, +you've given me your word: the wedding's to-morrow.' + +'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I say again, +what do you take me for? You do me too much honour. I'm humbly obliged. +Excuse me.' + +'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + +'Sword... what for?' + +'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + +Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it a little +against the floor. + +'You want... to fight... me?' + +'Precisely so.' + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can I, only +think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man of honour, Vassily +Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + +'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so good as to +fight with me.' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + +'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + +'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You thought you +would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare him, you thought, he's +a coward, and he'll agree to anything directly... No, Vassily +Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much as you are, though I've not had city +breeding, and you won't succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse +me.' + +'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + +'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + +'Get me the sword--there--you know, in the loft... make haste....' + +Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became exceedingly pale, +hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put on a reddish coat with big +paste buttons... twisted a cravat round his neck... Vassily looked at +him, and twiddled the fingers of his right hand. + +'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + +'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and hurriedly +buttoned up his shirt. + +'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... what is it to +you... And believe me, I'll...' + +'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll kill me or +maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my honour; if I'm to die +then I must die.' + +Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old sword in a +torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen wore swords with +powder, but in the steppes they only put on powder twice a year. Eroshka +moved away to the door and burst out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed +him out of the room. + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some embarrassment, 'I can't +fight with you on the spot: allow me to put off our duel till to-morrow. +My father is not at home, and it would be as well for me to put my +affairs in order to--to be ready for anything.' + +'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + +'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + +'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of patience.... Either +give me your word to marry her at once, or fight...or I'll thrash you +with my cane like a coward,--do you understand?' + +'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + +But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, utterly +distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees before Rogatchov, and +clasped his legs.... + +'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it you are +about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, your honour? Sure, +he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the word, you say the word, and +we'll make an end of him, the insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, +my baby-boy, for the love of God!' + +A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there was even the +red beard of the village elder... + +'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + +'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are you about? +What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us all out of the light +of day.... Why are you fellows standing still? Take the uninvited guest +in hand and show him out of the house, so that not a trace be left of +him.' + +'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + +'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' said Pavel +Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, and you others, off +with you, do you hear?...' + +Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out a small +silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered from close by. +Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel Afanasievitch. + +'What's to be the end of this farce?' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I do with +this crazy old woman?...' + +'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, and he +swiftly raised his cane... + +Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, snatched up the +sword, and rushed through another door into the garden. + +Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, painted +cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves in, and drew their +swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons in fencing, but now he was +scarcely capable of drawing a sword properly. The blades crossed. +Vassily was obviously playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel +Afanasievitch was breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into +Lutchinov's face. + +Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of people were +running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov heard the heart-rending +wail of old age...he recognised the voice of his father. Afanasey +Lukitch, bare-headed, with dishevelled hair, was running in front of +them all, frantically waving his hands.... + +With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent the sword +flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + +'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this foolery!' + +'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his eyes, and +shook all over. + +Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the summerhouse. + +'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + +Rogatchov shook his head. + +'Well, damn you, then!' + +Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed him to the +heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst into the summerhouse, +but Vassily had already jumped out of window... + +Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She rushed in +terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; took out his sword and +pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait in the place of the heart. Olga +shrieked and fell unconscious on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna +Pavlovna. He found her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are +avenged.' The poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + +Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two years later he +came back stricken with paralysis--tongue-tied. He found neither Anna +Pavlovna nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of +Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who could +understand his incoherent stuttering. + +1846. + + + + + + +ENOUGH + +A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + + +I + +II + +III + + +'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over the steep +mountainside down to the quiet little brook. 'Enough,' I said again, as +I drank in the resinous fragrance of the pinewood, strong and pungent in +the freshness of falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat +on the mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, +lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their pale green +blades.... 'Enough.' + +No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to keep firm +hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No more to brood over +the voluptuous sweetness of vague, seductive ecstasy, no more to run +after each fresh form of beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of +her delicate, strong wings. + +All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. What to me +now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than ever, the sunset floods +the heavens as though aflame with some triumphant passion? What to me +that, amid the soft peace and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces +hence, hidden in a thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung +his heart out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on +earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first love? All +this was, has been, has been again, and is a thousand times +repeated--and to think that it will last on so to all eternity--as +though decreed, ordained--it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + + +IV + + +Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me once--in +those happy days of old, when I too was aflame like the sunset and my +heart sang like the nightingale. + +There is no hiding it--everything has faded about me, all life has +paled. The light that gives life's colours depth and meaning--the light +that comes out of the heart of man--is dead within me.... No, not dead +yet--it feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + +Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to the grating +window of an old church, and leaned against the faulty pane. It was dark +under the low arched roof--a forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon +the ancient picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the +sacred face--stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered about it, +ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the feeble ray of +impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the light; and such the +darkness. + + +V + + +And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten friend, to +thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for ever, but shall not cease +to love till my life's end.... Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But +that I have no wish to speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, +in these wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and +through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I feel the +sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + +For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence in which I +am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on all my past... our +past.... No hope and no return; but no bitterness is in my heart and no +regret, and clearer than the blue of heaven, purer than the first snow +on mountain tops, fair memories rise up before me like the forms of +departed gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow procession +they follow one another like those draped Athenian figures we admired so +much--dost thou remember?--in the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + + +VI + + +I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, and sheds +brightness on all around him... I long to talk with thee of the time +when in my heart too that light burned bright with blessing... Listen... +and I will fancy thee sitting before me, gazing up at me with those +eyes--so fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to be +forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his heart thy +glance--that glance that seems to flow from depths unknown even as +mysterious springs--like ye, both clear and dark--that gush out into +some narrow, deep ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + + +VII + + +It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I had seen +thee for the first time and--not yet dreaming of what thou wouldst be to +me--already, silently, secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to +cross one of the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, +but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. The snow was +melting everywhere--steadily but slowly; there was the running of water +on all sides; a noiseless wind strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky +alike were steeped in one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was +there light; not one object stood out clear in the general whiteness, +everything looked both close and indistinct. I left my cart far behind +and walked swiftly over the ice of the river, and except the muffled +thud of my own steps heard not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides +by the first breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually +gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, a glad +tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within me... it drew me +on, it hastened me, and so strong was the flood of gladness within me, +that I stood still at last and with questioning eyes looked round me, as +I would seek some outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, +white, slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated a +flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome spring!' I shouted +aloud: 'welcome, life and love and happiness!' And at that instance, +with sweetly troubling shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image +blossomed aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and +radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only--that I am all filled +full of thee.... + + +VIII + + +I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures float before +me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my life I meet thee. Now an +old Russian garden rises up before me on the slope of a hillside, +lighted up by the last rays of the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars +peeps out the wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish +smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate stands +just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with faltering hand; and I +stand and wait and gaze at that gate and the sand of the garden +path--wonder and rapture in my heart. All that I behold seems new and +different; over all a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already +I catch the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a +bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my heart burns and +shudders in joyous dread before the approaching, the alighting +rapture.... + + +IX + + +Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. In rows +kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful chill, of something +grave and melancholy is wafted from the high, bare roof, from the huge, +branching columns. Thou standest at my side, mute, apart, as though +knowing me not. Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved +in stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the stained +windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, violently thrilling the +incense-clouded air, thrilling us within, rolled out the mighty flood of +the organ's notes... and I saw thee paler, rigid--thy glance caressed +me, glided higher and rose heavenwards--while to me it seemed none but +an immortal soul could look so, with such eyes... + + +X + + +Another picture comes back to me. + +No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; the low +walls of a little snug room shut us off from the whole world. What am I +saying? We are alone, alone in the whole world; except us two there is +nothing living--outside these friendly walls darkness and death and +emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not the rain +streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, his sightless eyes +are weeping. But with us all is peaceful and light and warm and +welcoming; something droll, something of childish innocence, like a +butterfly--isn't it so?--flutters about us. We nestle close to one +another, we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I +feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear that thou +livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is born on my face +before it is on thine, thou makest mute answer to my mute question, thy +thoughts, my thoughts are like the two wings of one bird, lost in the +infinite blue... the last barriers have fallen--and so soothed, so +deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished that we have +no need for word or look to pass between us.... Only to breathe, to +breathe together is all we want, to be together and scarcely to be +conscious that we are together.... + + +XI + + +Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September when we +walked through the deserted, still flowering garden of a forsaken palace +on the bank of a great river--not Russian--under the soft brilliance of +the cloudless sky. Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly +flowing river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of +voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the unfamiliar +monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws in the high sun-lit +treetops, and the tender words and smiles and looks, long, soft, +piercing to the very in-most soul, and the beauty, beauty in our lives, +about us, on all sides--it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat +in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of feeling--I cannot +forget it till the hour I die! How delicious were those few strangers +passing us with brief greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet +boats floating by (in one--dost thou remember?--stood a horse pensively +gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of the tiny ripples by +the bank, and the very bark of the distant dogs across the water, the +very shouts of the fat officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, +with outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We both felt +that better than those moments nothing in the world had been or would be +for us, that all else... But why compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: +enough. + + +XII + + +For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid them +farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, his gold, his +bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, grey earth; so the wick of +a smouldering lamp flickers up in a last bright flare and sinks into +cold ash. The wild creature has peeped out from its hole for the last +time at the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and +has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to sleep. Will he +have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun and the grass and the blue +kindly water?... + + +XIII + + +Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at the first, +absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in ourselves, we are not +aware of her harsh hand. While one can be deceived and has no shame in +lying, one can live and there is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full +truth, of that, indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can +reach locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the No.' +Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall to pieces, not +to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... of self-contempt,--calmly +to turn away from all, to say 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon +the empty breast, to save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, +the dignity of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal +hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the whole +universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher than the universe, +because he would know it was crushing him, and it would know it not. A +poor dignity! A sorry consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by +it, to have faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and +there's no refuting those words of menace: + + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' + + +I quoted these lines from _Macbeth_, and there came back to my mind +the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no ghosts, no fantastic, +unearthly powers are terrible; there are no terrors in the Hoffmann +world, in whatever form it appears.... What is terrible is that there is +nothing terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, uninteresting +and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked through and through with that +knowledge, once one has tasted of that bitter, no honey more seems +sweet, and even the highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of +perfect nearness, of complete devotion--even that loses all its magic; +all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its brevity. Yes; a +man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of eternal bliss, of undying +raptures, and lo, no trace is left of the very worm that devoured the +last relic of his withered tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, +when all is lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare +forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the fog and +turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once the gnats swarm up +on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, bustle, flutter up and down, +circle round one another... The sun is hidden--the gnats fall in a +feeble shower, and there is the end of their momentary life. + + +XIV + + +But are there no great conceptions, no great words of consolation: +patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; those words there are, +and many men live by them and for them. And yet it seems to me that if +Shakespeare could be born again he would have no cause to retract his +Hamlet, his Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in +human life: still the same motley picture--in reality so little +complex--would unroll before him in its terrifying sameness. The same +credulity and the same cruelty, the same lust of blood, of gold, of +filth, the same vulgar pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the +name... why, in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered +at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which the +many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, the same workings +of power, the same traditions of slavishness, the same innateness of +falsehood--in a word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old +unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear repeating his +cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words means: 'None is without +offence.' and he too would say 'enough!' he too would turn away. One +thing perhaps, may be: in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, +the great poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the +tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own virtue, and +sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too sumptuous a dinner at the +very time when his half-crushed victims try to find comfort in picturing +him, like Richard, haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + +But to what end? + +Why prove--picking out, too, and weighing words, smoothing and rounding +off phrases--why prove to gnats that they are really gnats? + + +XV + + +But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they are more +powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. Venus of Milo is, may +be, more real than Roman law or the principles of 1789. It may be +objected--how many times has the retort been heard!--that beauty itself +is relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other than the +European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of art confounds me; +its transitoriness, again its brevity, its dust and ashes--that is what +robs me of faith and courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, +may be, than nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no +picture of Ruysdaeel, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted pedants or +disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art is the imitation of +nature. But at the end of all, nature is inexorable; she has no need to +hurry, and sooner or later she takes her own. Unconsciously and +inflexibly obedient to laws, she knows not art, as she knows not +freedom, as she knows not good; from all ages moving, from all ages +changing, she suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is +her child; but man's work--art--is hostile to her, just because it +strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the child of nature; but +she is the universal mother, and she has no preferences; all that exists +in her lap has arisen only at the cost of something else, and must in +its time yield its place to something else. She creates destroying, and +she cares not whether she creates or she destroys--so long as life be +not exterminated, so long as death fall not short of his dues.... And so +just as serenely she hides in mould the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus +as the simplest pebble, and gives the vile worm for food the priceless +verse of Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work of +of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the force of +nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian recklessly smashing +the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage yells with which he casts in +the fire the picture of Apelles? How are we, poor folks, poor artists to +be a match for this deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her +conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How stand +against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, unceasingly moving +upward? How have faith in the value and dignity of the fleeting images, +that in the dark, on the edge of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an +instant? + + +XVI + + +All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, said Schiller; +and nature in the incessant play of her rising, vanishing forms is not +averse to beauty. Does not she carefully deck the most fleeting of her +children--the petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly--in the +fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite lines? Beauty +needs not to live for ever to be eternal--one instant is enough for her. +Yes; that may be is true--but only there where personality is not, where +man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing spoiled appears +again and again for a thousand years as the same wing of the same +butterfly; there sternly, fairly, impersonally necessity completes her +circle... but man is not repeated like the butterfly, and the work of +his hands, his art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for +ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but strange and +dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... for one hour--as there +was, in the tale, a caliph for an hour. In this is our pre-eminence--and +our curse; each of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even +this _I_ is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on lines +laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware of his +significance, is aware that he is innately something noble, eternal--and +lives, and must live in the moment and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, +my friend, and aspire to the skies! The greatest among us are just those +who more deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; +though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as greatest, great? + +[Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's words +to Faust:-- + + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht-- + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + --AUTHOR'S NOTE.] + + +XVII + + +What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one cannot apply +such terms, even in the sense given them by the feeble tongue of man? +What can one say of the ordinary, common, second-rate, third-rate +toilers--whatsoever they may be--statesmen, men of science, +artists--above all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb +indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the field of +battle, if once the conception has stolen into their brains of the +nullity of everything human, of every sort of effort that sets before +itself a higher aim than the mere winning of bread? By what crowns can +they be lured for whom laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what +end will they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the +judgment of the fool'--of the old fool who cannot forgive them from +turning away from the old bogies--of the young fool who would force them +to kneel with him, to grovel with him before the new, lately discovered +idols? Why should they go back again into that jostling crowd of +phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat each other +alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is paltry and worthless? Why +'with impotence in their bones' should they struggle back into that +world where the peoples, like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in +the mire for handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed +adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that world where +only that is living which has no right to live, and each, stifling self +with his own shouting, hurries feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended +goal? No... no.... Enough... enough... enough! + + +XVIII + + +...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the original.--TRANSLATOR'S +NOTE.] + +1864. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 8696.txt or 8696.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/6/9/8696/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8696] +[This file was first posted on August 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + +BY IVAN TURGENEV + +_Translated from the Russian_ +_By CONSTANCE GARNETT_ + + + + + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK +WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV +SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION + + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the childish +attitude of certain English men of letters to the novel in general, +their depreciation of its influence and of the public's 'inordinate' +love of fiction. Many men of letters to-day look on the novel as a mere +story-book, as a series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their +'idle hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, and +poetry as the age's _serious_ contribution to literature. Whereas +the reverse is the case. The most serious and significant of all +literary forms the modern world has evolved is the novel; and brought to +its highest development, the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour +of being the supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + +To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden marked out +for the crowd's diversion--a field of recreation adorned here and there +by the masterpieces of a few great men--argues in the modern critic +either an academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed +obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama in all but +two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by artists as a coarse +playground for the great public's romps and frolics, but the novel can +be preserved exactly so long as the critics understand that to exercise +a delicate art is the one _serious_ duty of the artistic life. It +is no more an argument against the vital significance of the novel that +tens of thousands of people--that everybody, in fact--should to-day +essay that form of art, than it is an argument against poetry that for +all the centuries droves and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and +rhymesters have succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in +worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be vindicated +in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm of critics in stripping +bare the false, and in hailing as the true all that is animated by the +living breath of beauty. The true function of the novel! That can only +be supported by those who understand that the adequate representation +and criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men were the +novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned to the mass of vulgar +standards. That the novel is the most insidious means of mirroring human +society Cervantes in his great classic revealed to seventeenth-century +Europe. Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great +realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century that the +novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their days to the days of +Henry James the form of the novel has been adapted by European genius to +the exact needs, outlook, and attitude to life of each successive +generation. To the French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must +be given the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has +become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, however, +reserved for the youngest of European literatures, for the Russian +school, to raise the novel to being the absolute and triumphant +expression by the national genius of the national soul. + +Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best defined by saying +that while he stands as a great classic in the ranks of the great +novelists, along with Richardson, Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, +Thackeray, Meredith, Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest +of them all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been +recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both wider in +its range and more beautiful in its form than the work of any modern +European artist. The novel modelled by Turgenev's hands, the Russian +novel, became _the_ great modern instrument for showing 'the very +age and body of the time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life +in all its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the same +time to assess its values by the great poetic insight that reveals man's +relations to the universe around him,--that is an art only transcended +by Shakespeare's own in its unique creation of a universe of great human +types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we see that if +he has made the novel both more delicate and more powerful than their +example shows it, it is because as the supreme artist he filled it with +the breath of poetry where others in general spoke the word of prose. +Turgenev's horizon always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and +Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev speaks for the +nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an endless stream of human +figures, Turgenev's characters reveal themselves as wider apart in the +range of their spirit, as more mysteriously alive in their inevitable +essence, than do Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or +Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in _War and +Peace_, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole generation, +Turgenev in _Fathers and Children_ concentrates in the few words of +a single character, Bazarov, the essence of modern science's attitude to +life, that scientific spirit which has transformed both European life +and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further parallels +between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England alone, perhaps, is it +necessary to say to the young novelist that the novel can become +anything, can be anything, according to the hands that use it. In its +application to life, its future development can by no means be gauged. +It is the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief method +to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. If you love your +art, if you would exalt it, treat it absolutely seriously. If you would +study it in its highest form, the form the greatest artist of our time +has perfected--remember Turgenev. + +EDWARD GARNETT. + +November 1899. + + + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE JEW + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + +THE DUELLIST + +THREE PORTRAITS + +ENOUGH + + + + + + + +THE JEW + + +...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai Ilyitch. + +The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke between his +moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, looked at us and +considered. We all had the greatest liking and respect for Nikolai +Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, common sense, and kindly indulgence +to us young fellows. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; +his dark face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: Lermontov +in the _Treasurer's Wife_.--AUTHOR'S NOTE.] straight-forward, +clever glance, gentle smile, manly and mellow voice--everything about +him pleased and attracted one. + +'All right, listen then,' he began. + +It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the E---- regiment of +cuirassiers, and had just, I recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It +is an exhilarating occupation--fighting; and marching too is good enough +in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a besieging army. There one sits +the whole blessed day within some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on +mud or straw, playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from +simple boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets +flying. + +At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they quickly +subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions too; we were +overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that we were ready to howl for +sheer _ennui_. I was not more than nineteen then; I was a healthy +young fellow, fresh as a daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the +fun I could out of the French... and in other ways too... you +understand what I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to +do, I fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my luck +turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I had won an +immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out into the fresh air, and +sat down on a mound. It was a splendid, calm morning; the long lines of +our fortifications were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and +then began to doze where I was sitting. + +A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me +a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey wrapper, slippers, +and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose name was Girshel, was +continually hanging about our camp, offering his services as an agent, +getting us wine, provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, +red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked incessantly +with his diminutive little eyes, which were reddish too; he had a long +crooked nose, and was always coughing. + +He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + +'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + +'Oh, I only--I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be of use to your +honour in some way...' + +'I don't want you; you can go.' + +'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there might be, +sir, something....' + +'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + +'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to +congratulate you on your success....' + +'Why, how did you know?' + +'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... immense....Oh! how +immense....' + +Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + +'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the devil's the +good of money here?' + +'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. Money's a +capital thing; always of use; you can get anything for money, your +honour; anything! anything! Only say the word to the agent, he'll get +you anything, your honour, anything! anything!' + +'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + +'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your honour doesn't +believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed his eyes and slowly wagged +his head to right and to left.... 'Oh, I know what his honour the +officer would like.... I know,... to be sure I do!' + +The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + +'Really!' + +The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + +'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel again closed +his eyes and shot out his lips. + +'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see for +yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you won't believe... +better tell me to show you... that's the thing, that's the thing!' + +I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + +'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you then....' + +Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the shoulder, but +skipped back at once as though he had been scalded. + +'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + +'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + +'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with unusual warmth, +waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... if so, your honour, you +order me to be given five hundred... four hundred and fifty lashes,' he +added hurriedly....' You give orders--' + +At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent and called +me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a gold coin. + +'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + +I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening with some +impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; our regiment marched +to the attack. The evening came on; we sat round the fires... the +soldiers cooked porridge. My comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank +tea, and listened to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of +cards--I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. Gradually the +officers dispersed to their tents; the fires began to die down; the +soldiers too dispersed, or went to sleep on the spot; everything was +still. I did not get up. My orderly squatted on his heels before the +fire, and was beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was +hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it were +waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night came on. A long +while I watched the dying flame.... The last fire went out. 'The damned +Jew was taking me in,' I thought angrily, and was just going to get up. + +'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my ear. + +I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and whispered +something. + +'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The Jew shrank +into himself, and stepped warily over the short, damp grass. I observed +on one side a motionless, muffled-up figure. The Jew beckoned to +her--she went up to him. He whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his +head several times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to +relate, I was breathless. + +'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, 'you see. +She's a little frightened at the moment, she's frightened; but I've told +her his honour the officer's a good man, a splendid man.... Don't be +frightened, don't be frightened,' he went on--'don't be frightened....' + +The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state of dreadful +confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel too was fidgeting +restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange way.... + +'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as it seemed, +Girshel obeyed. + +I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark hood off +her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by the faint, reddish, +flickering glow of the distant fire I saw the pale face of a young +Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I stood facing her, and gazed at her in +silence. She did not raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. +Girshel was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. I +waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + +'What's your name?' I said at last. + +'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the darkness the +gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped eyes and little, even, +flashing teeth. + +I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, and asked +her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat down. She was +wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, with round, chased silver +buttons, and full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round +her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. +She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a +catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed +her cold, shaking fingers. + +'Do you know Russian?' + +'Yes... a little.' + +'And do you like Russians?' + +'Yes, I like them.' + +'Then, you like me too?' + +'Yes, I like you.' + +I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly.... + +'No, no, please, sir, please...' + +'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + +She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away +with a smile, and blushed. + +I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and +softly laughed. + +'What is it?' + +She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + +Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger +at her. She ceased laughing. + +'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me sick!' + +Girshel did not go away. + +I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them in his +hand and pushed him out. + +'Your honour, me too....' she said. + +I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them like a cat. + +'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + +'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and beseeching voice. + +'What are you frightened of?' + +'I'm afraid.' + +'Oh, nonsense....' + +'No, please.' + +She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side and clasped +her hands. I let her alone. + +'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and she raised +her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I kissed it. Sara laughed +again. + +My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not know what to +do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + +I turned to her again. + +'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + +'I know.' + +'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + +Sara shook her head. + +'No, answer me properly.' + +'Well, show yourself,' she said. + +I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, began +scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not contain myself, +and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She jumped up and in one bound +was at the entrance of the tent. + +'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + +She did not speak and did not stir. + +'Come here to me....' + +'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + +Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of words to +her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + +I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get another +glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + +The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + +The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I was +playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + +'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + +'Who is it?' + +'A Jew.' + +'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the rubber, +got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + +'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your honour, are +you satisfied?' + +'Ah, you------!' (Here the colonel glanced round. 'No ladies present, I +believe.... Well, never mind, any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, +'so you're making fun of me, are you?' + +'How so?' + +'How so, indeed! What a question!' + +'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said reproachfully, but +never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young and modest.... You frightened +her, indeed, you did.' + +'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + +'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + +'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... only, +please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and leave us in +peace; do you hear?' + +Girshel's eyes sparkled. + +'What do you say? You like her?' + +'Well, yes.' + +'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. And have +you something for me now?' + +'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring her and +then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + +'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined hurriedly. +'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near the tent, your honour, +if you like; I'll... I'll go away, your honour, if you like, a +little.... I'm ready to do your honour a service.... I'll move away... +to be sure, I will.' + +'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + +'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a beauty, eh?' + +Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + +'She's good-looking.' + +'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + +I threw him a coin; we parted. + +The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting for a long +while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It struck two in the town. +I was beginning to curse the Jew.... Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I +jumped up took her in my arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold +as ice. I could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit +down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her waist.... She +did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she broke into loud, +convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to soothe her, to persuade her.... +She wept in torrents.... I caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she +did not resist, made no answer to my questions and wept--wept, like a +waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out of the tent. + +Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + +'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. Take Sara +away.' + +The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched +hold of him. + +'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each +other again some other time.' + +Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and +pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + +For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel +did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I +slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black +eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her +cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging +party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking +the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my +horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot.... + +'Mercy on us, Sara!' + +She was pale and excited. + +'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... +Your honour....' + +She recognised me and flushed red. + +'Why, do you live here?' + +'Yes.' + +'Where?' + +Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and +galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess +was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three +hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the +hens clucked and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading +their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I +heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called to my men and told +them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The +soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as +he called her, 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + +'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + +She looked at me with a smile. + +'What has become of you all this time?' + +She dropped her eyes. + +'I will come to you to-morrow.' + +'In the evening?' + +'No, sir, in the morning.' + +'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + +'No... no, I won't.' + +I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me handsomer than +ever. I remember I was particularly struck by the even, amber tint of +her face and the bluish lights in her black hair.... I bent down from my +horse and warmly pressed her little hand. + +'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + +'Yes.' + +She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the party, and +galloped off. + +The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of the tent. It +was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen and every blade of grass +was sparkling in the dew and the crimson glow. I clambered on to a high +breastwork, and sat down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, +cast-iron cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I +looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of a bent +figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I recognised Girshel. +He stood without moving for a long while in one place, then suddenly ran +a little on one side, looked hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a +cry, squatted down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round +again and listening. I could see all his actions very clearly. He put +his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and +began writing or drawing something. Girshel continually stopped, started +like a hare, attentively scrutinised everything around him, and seemed +to be sketching our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half +closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. At last, the +Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his slipper, and stuffed the +paper in it; but he had not time to regain his legs, when suddenly, ten +steps from him, there appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the +whiskered countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole +of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew stood with +his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him and laid his heavy paw +on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to shrink into himself. He shook like a +leaf and uttered a feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him +threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear their +conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the Jew, and his +supplicating appearance, I began to guess what it was. The Jew twice +flung himself at the sergeant's feet, put his hand in his pocket, pulled +out a torn check handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold +coins.... Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not +leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a sudden bound +and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in pursuit. The Jew ran +exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue stockings, flashed by, really +very rapidly; but Siliavka after a short run caught the crouching Jew, +made him stand up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I +got up and went to meet him. + +'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,--'it's a spy I'm bringing you--a +spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was streaming with perspiration. +'Stop that wriggling, devilish Jew--now then... you wretch! you'd better +look out, I'll throttle you!' + +The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into Siliavka's +chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were rolling convulsively.... + +'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + +'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his right +foot,--I can't get at it.' He was still holding the Jew in his arms. + +I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded piece of +paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our camp. On the margin +were a number of notes written in a fine hand in the Jews' language. + +Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew opened his eyes, +saw me, and flung himself on his knees before me. + +Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + +'What's this?' + +'It's---nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice broke. + +'Are you a spy?' + +He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, pressed my knees +in terror.... + +'Are you a spy?' + +'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I never did; +I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly impossible. I'm +ready--I'll--this minute--I've money to give... I'll pay for it,' he +whispered, and closed his eyes. + +The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish hair was +soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips were blue, and +working convulsively; his brows were contracted painfully; his face was +drawn.... + +Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give Girshel a good +fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his tongue, but now the affair had +become public, and could not escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + +'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + +'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of despair. 'I +am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let me go, tell him...' + +'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come along.' + +'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me--'tell him! have mercy!' + +His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a man of +German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict in his adherence +to military discipline. I went into the little house that had been +hastily put up for him, and in a few words explained the reason of my +visit. I knew the severity of the military regulations, and so I did not +even pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair before +him as something quite trifling and not worth attention. But, unhappily +for Girshel, the general put doing his duty higher than pity. + +'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, 'inexperienced +are. You in military matters yet inexperienced are. The matter, of which +you to me reported have, is important, very important.... And where is +this man who taken was? this Jew? where is he?' + +I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in the Jew. +The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + +'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's the plan +which on this man found was?' + +I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away again, +screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + +'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who arrested him?' + +'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + +'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in your defence?' + +'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... indeed,... +your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your Excellency; ask his honour the +officer.... I'm an agent, your Excellency, an honest agent.' + +'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an undertone, +wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you explain this, my friend?' +'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, I'm not guilty.' + +'That is not probable, however. You were--how is it said in +Russian?--taken on the fact, that is, in the very facts!' + +'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + +'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + +'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your Excellency!' + +The general looked at Siliavka. + +'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the +plan out of his slipper.' + +The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + +'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + +'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + +'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? +Confess....' + +'How could I?' + +'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + +The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the skirts of his +gown. + +'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief +silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor Schliekelmann?' + +They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. Girshel began +to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes seemed starting out of +his head. The adjutant came in. The general gave him the requisite +instructions. The secretary showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an +instant. Two or three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + +'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German as best I +could; 'let him off....' + +'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to you, are +inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, and me no more to +trouble.' + +Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + +'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, your +Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a daughter... have +mercy....' + +'It's no use!' + +'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, your +Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + +'You furnished no other documents?' + +'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my children... have +mercy....' + +'But you are a spy.' + +'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + +The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it. + +'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said constrainedly, with the +air of a man forced to do violence to his heart, and sacrifice his +better feelings to inexorable duty--'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg +you to draw up a report of the occurrence....' + +A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary +timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected +the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast +trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, +he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had +on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again... his +gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + +We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + +'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched creature.' + +'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, and not +without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + +'For pity's sake....' + +'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the general, +and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + +I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere, +I remained at no great distance from the general's house. + +Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and +three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could +hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned +with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a +look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the +Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood +silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to +Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at +me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, +and closed my eyes.... + +Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head +and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and +clutched at my hands. + +'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + +'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + +'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + +'To what father?' + +'My father; they are going to hang him....' + +'What! is Girshel...?' + +'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing +her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + +We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary +birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them +without speaking.... + +'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers +won't obey me.' + +Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going +round. + +'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here? +It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together; +who knows, we may persuade him.' + +Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy. + +'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your +father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + +'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + +I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + +'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, tell them +to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the general.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +Ivanov ran off. + +We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I begged, +persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara tore her hair and +rushed at the sentinels; they would not let us pass. + +Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, and ran at +breakneck pace towards the open country, to her father. I followed her. +Every one stared at us, wondering. + +We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and picture it, +gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor Girshel. I flew into a +rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw us and fell on his daughter's +neck. Sara clung to him passionately. + +The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just beginning to +thank me... I turned away. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not pardoned?' + +I did not speak. + +'No?' + +'No.' + +'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, look... she, this +girl, see--you know--she's my daughter.' + +'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! I wouldn't +for anything...' + +He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted your money, +your honour, I must own... but not for anything....' + +I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his +accomplice.... + +'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, 'I'll +command her... I... do you understand?... everything... I'll go to every +length....' + +He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him hurriedly. Sara +silently and passionately embraced him. + +The adjutant came up to us. + +'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders to place +you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the soldiers to the Jew... +'quickly.' + +Siliavka went up to the Jew. + +'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had come with +him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor girl....' + +'Of course. Certainly.' + +The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was muttering something +to her in Yiddish.... + +The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's arms, and +carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at once she broke from +their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... Siliavka stopped her. Sara +pushed him away; her face was covered with a faint flush, her eyes +flashed, she stretched out her arms. + +'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice +accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan +and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful +death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless, +bloodthirsty dogs....' + +Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up +and carried her away. + +The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had +been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was +really ludicrous, in spite of all the horror of his position. The +intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed +itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, +and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was +horrible--intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead +with terror.... + +'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a +lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know me. I'm an agent, an +honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a minute, a little minute, a tiny +minute--wait! Let me go; I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I +know, she's at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he +bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the +quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The soldiers +were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a deafening shriek, and +wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your Excellency, have pity on the unhappy +father of a family. I'll give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, +your Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare me! +have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your Excellency, the +general and commander-in-chief!' + +They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed away. + +I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the widow of +the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes of the deceased. The +general ordered a hundred roubles to be given to her. Sara I never saw +again. I was wounded; I was taken to the hospital, and by the time I was +well again, Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the +banks of the Rhine. + + + + + + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + + +Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful days... and I +would rather not recall them.... But I have made you a promise; I shall +have to tell you the whole story. Listen. + + +I + + +I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in the house +of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was eighteen; I had only +just passed from the second into the third course in the faculty 'of +Language' (that was what it was called in those days) in the Moscow +University. My aunt was a gentle, quiet woman--a widow. She lived in a +big, wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses such as, +I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. She saw hardly any +one, sat from morning till night in the drawing-room with two +companions, drank the choicest tea, played patience, and was continually +requesting that the room should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions +ran into the hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would +bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, and stepping +hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he would sprinkle the mint +with vinegar. White fumes always puffed up about his wrinkled face, and +he frowned and turned away, while the canaries in the dining-room +chirped their hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering +mint. + +I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She placed the +whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. My rooms were +furnished very elegantly, not at all like a student's rooms in fact: +there were pink curtains in the bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned +with blue rosettes, towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, +rather an annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were +calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it was, they +nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could never succeed in +forcing myself to smoke. I studied--why conceal my shortcomings?--very +lazily, especially at the beginning of the course. I went out a great +deal. My aunt had bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with +a pair of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were +rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed masses of +tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted myself no breach of +decorum, and behaved very discreetly, _en jeune homme de bonne +maison_. I would not for anything in the world have pained my kind +aunt; and besides I was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + + +II + + +From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no idea of the +science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One day in a cafe, I was +the spectator of a prolonged contest at chess, between two players, of +whom one, a fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as +playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play a match +with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, beat me easily, +three times running. + +'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a courteous +tone, noticing probably that my vanity was suffering; 'but you don't +know the openings. You ought to study a chess-book--Allgacir or Petrov.' + +'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + +'Come to me; I will give you one.' + +He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next day I went to +see him, and a week later we were almost inseparable. + + +III + + +My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. He lived +with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow of a privy +councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart and lived quite +independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He had a post in the +department of Court affairs. I became genuinely attached to him. I had +never in my life met a young man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about +him was charming and attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his +voice, and especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue +eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little nose, the +unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the light curls of soft +hair over the rather narrow, snow-white brow. Fustov's character was +remarkable for exceptional serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained +affability; he was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with +everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over anything. +Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon him; 'that's savage, +savage,' he would say with a faint shrug, half closing his golden eyes. +Marvellous were those eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed +sympathy, good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that I +noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely from their +setting, that it never changed, even when he was sipping his soup or +smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a byword between us. His +grandmother, indeed, had been a German. Nature had endowed him with all +sorts of talents. He danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a +first-rate swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books +and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of flowers or +Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the zither with feeling; +knew a number of tricks, with cards and without; and had a fair +knowledge of mechanics, physics, and chemistry; but everything only up +to a certain point. Only for languages he had no great facility: even +French he spoke rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share +in our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright sympathy +of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was attractive, +undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such importance among young people, +he did not care to enlarge, and fully deserved the nickname given him by +his comrades, 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; +there was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, though +in reality it was only manifested by his never refusing to see me when I +called. To my mind Fustov was the happiest man in the world. His life +ran so very smoothly. His mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles +all adored him, he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and +enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + + +IV + + +One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him in his +study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of panting and +splashing reached me from there. Every morning Fustov took a cold +shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter of an hour practised gymnastic +exercises, in which he had attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive +anxiety about one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did +not neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't over-excite +yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) Fustov had not yet made +his appearance, when the outer door of the room where I was waiting flew +wide open, and there walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish +uniform. He was a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a +dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. This person +stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth wide, and with a metallic +chuckle, he gave himself a smart slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up +in front as he did so. + +'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + +'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What are you up +to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' (The voice of the man +addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the same harsh, metallic note as his +laugh.) 'I've trudged all this way to give your little brother his +lesson; and he's got a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He +can't do his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + +Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again dealt +himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a check handkerchief +out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, ferociously rolling his eyes, +spat into the handkerchief, and ejaculated with the whole force of his +lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + +Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, asked us +if we were acquainted. + +'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the veteran of the +year twelve has not that honour!' + +Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran of the +year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, professor of... +various subjects.' + +'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch chimed in. 'Come +to think of it, what is there I haven't taught, and that I'm not +teaching now, for that matter! Mathematics and geography and statistics +and Italian book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear +sir?'--he pounced suddenly upon me--'ask Alexander Daviditch if I'm not +first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a poor sort of Bohemian--Czech, I +should say--if I weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is +ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't we seen you +for so long! We ought to have a little duet... ha-ha! Really!' + +'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan Demianitch,' replied +Fustov. + +'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + +When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to side in a +strange, restless way. + +'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he addressed me +again. 'But that's because you don't understand my temperament. You must +just ask our good friend here, Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about +me. What'll he tell you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, +good-hearted chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! +At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called Ivan +Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I wear my heart, as +they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all sorts I know naught about and +don't want to neither! Can't bear it! You drop in on me one day of an +evening, and you'll see for yourself. My good woman--my wife, that +is--has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and bake you... +something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't it the truth I'm +telling?' + +Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + +'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued Mr. Ratsch. +'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of his pocket and put it +up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd better be toddling on, I suppose. I've +another chick expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... +mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, at the Red +Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks to your brother's +cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen kopecks for sledge hire to +the good! Ha-ha! A very good day to you, gentlemen, till we meet +again!... Eh?... We must have a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the +passage putting on his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard +his metallic laugh. + + +V + + +'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had already set to +work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a foreigner? He speaks Russian so +fluently.' + +'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As long ago +as 1802, some prince or other brought him from abroad... in the capacity +of secretary... more likely, valet, one would suppose. He does speak +Russian fluently, certainly.' + +'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + +'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, these +Russianised Germans.' + +'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + +'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + +'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? Was he in +the militia, or what?' + +'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained in Moscow +and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + +'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + +Fustov still went on with his turning. + +'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; but that +must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received compensation from the +treasury for his losses.' + +'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in government service +then?' + +'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a petty +councillor.' + +'What's his wife like?' + +'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or butcher....' + +'And do you often go to see him?' + +'Yes.' + +'What, is it pleasant there?' + +'Rather pleasant.' + +'Has he any children?' + +'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his first wife.' + +'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + +'About five-and-twenty,' + +I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel turned more +rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his feet. + +'Is she good-looking?' + +'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and she's +altogether... a remarkable person.' + +'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special earnestness, +and to my next question he only responded by a grunt. + +'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + + +VI + + +A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to spend the +evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard and garden, in +Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky boulevard. He came out into the +passage, and meeting us with his characteristic jarring guffaw and +noise, led us at once into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a +stout lady in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. +Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been possessed of +what the French for some unknown reason call _beaute du diable_, +that is to say, freshness; but when I made her acquaintance, she +suggested involuntarily to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly +laid by the butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word +'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of cleanliness, but +everything about her, everything in the house positively shone, and +glittered; everything had been scoured, and polished, and washed: the +samovar on the round table flashed like fire; the curtains before the +windows, the table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the +little frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting there, +stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their mother, with +coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their foreheads, and red, +shapeless fingers. All the four of them had rather flat noses, large, +swollen-looking lips, and tiny, light-grey eyes. + +'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand on the +children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, Sashka and Mashka! +This one's eight, this one's seven, that one's four, and this one's only +two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! +Eh, Eleonora Karpovna?' + +'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna and she +turned away. + +'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. Ratsch +pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all baptized into the +Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon +my soul, she is, though she is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are +you Slavonic?' + +Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + +'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm a Russian +lady and all you may say....' + +'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke in Ivan +Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + +'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be sure I love +Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? And my children too +are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze ruhig mit den Fussen!' + +Ratsch waved his hand to her. + +'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's the nobly +born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! He'll come across +the inspector one of these fine days! He'll give him a talking-to! Das +ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + +'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie wissen +wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + +I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at what induced +him to visit such people... but at that instant there came into the room +a tall girl in a black dress, the elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom +Fustov had referred.... I perceived the explanation of my friend's +frequent visits. + + +VII + + +There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something about 'a white +dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just the impression made on me +by the girl, who entered the room. Between the world surrounding her and +herself there seemed to be too little in common; she herself seemed +secretly bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the +members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, simple-hearted, +healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already careworn, face bore the +traces of depression, pride and morbidity. The others, unmistakable +plebeians, were unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but +simple; but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably +aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace of the type +characteristic of the German race; she recalled rather the children of +the south. The excessively thick, lustreless black hair, the hollow, +black, lifeless but beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the +aquiline nose, the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic +line near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, +something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the movements, +elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this would not have struck +me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near the Pretchistensky boulevard, it +simply astonished me! I got up from my seat on her entrance; she flung +me a swift, uneasy glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down +near the window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's _Oniegin_ was then fresh +in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my friend was standing +with his back to me, taking a cup of tea from the plump hands of +Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further that the girl as she came in seemed +to bring with her a breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a +statue!' was my thought. + + +VIII + + +'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let me +introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! to Susanna +Ivanovna!' + +I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too is not the +same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose slightly, without smiling +or loosening her tightly clasped hands. + +'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander Daviditch? +eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and I've got the bassoon +out of its case already. Let us make sweet music for the honourable +company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to display his Russian; he was continually +bursting out with expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast +about the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you say? +Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no objection. +'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with the music-stand! Olga, +this way with the zither! And oblige us with candles for the stands, +better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch turned round and round in the room like a +top.) 'Piotr Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, +you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not above a +whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that silly chap, Viktor? +He ought to be here to listen too! You spoil him completely, Eleonora +Karpovna.' + +Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + +'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + +'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast verstanden? +Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + +The children had promptly done as their father had told them. The +music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already mentioned that +Fustov played the zither extremely well, but that instrument has always +produced the most distressing impression upon me. I have always fancied, +and I fancy still, that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a +decrepit Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and complaints +against the merciless musician who forces it to utter sounds. Mr. +Ratsch's performance, too, was not calculated to give me much pleasure; +moreover, his face became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant +expression, while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were +just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were swearing and +threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out chokingly husky, coarse +notes one after another. I placed myself near Susanna, and waiting for a +momentary pause, I asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + +She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and pronounced +abruptly, 'Who?' + +'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + +'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + +'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have misunderstood... But +I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + +Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + +'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + +I was silent for a while. + +'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + +Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something suggesting +a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not expected nor desired +the continuation of our conversation. + +'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. +'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with startling fury, +executing the final flourishes. I turned round, caught sight of the red +neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his +projecting ears, and very disgusting I thought him. + +'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said in an +undertone. + +'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though catching my secret +hint. + +'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at something. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in her German +Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very beautifully plays the +piano, only she likes not to play the piano when she is greatly pressed +to play.' + +Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply--she did not even look at +her--only there was a faint movement of her eyes, under their dropped +lids, in her direction. From this movement alone--this movement of her +pupils--I could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna +cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again I was +delighted at something. + +Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with hesitating footsteps +approached the window, near which Susanna and I were sitting, and asked +her if she had received from Lengold's the music that he had promised to +order her from Petersburg. + +'Selections from _Robert le Diable,_' he added, turning to me, +'from that new opera that every one's making such a fuss about.' + +'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning round with her +face to the window she whispered hurriedly. 'Please, Alexander +Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me play to-day. I don't feel in the +mood a bit.' + +'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan Demianitch, +coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a first-class article! He's +a Jew, and all Jews, like all Czechs, are born musicians. Especially +Jews. That's right, isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + +In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, there +could be heard something more than his usual bantering tone--the desire +to wound was evident. So, at least, I fancied, and so Susanna understood +him. She started instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A +spot of light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and +rising quickly, she went out of the room. + +'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled after her. + +'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. 'Wenn sie +einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + +'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his heels, and +slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the _plexus solaris._ +Oh! you needn't look at me like that, Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go +at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora +Karpovna... I cure all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at +that!' + +'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter responded +with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and gracefully swaying to and +fro, looked at the husband and wife. + +'And why not be joking, mein Mutterchen?' retorted Ivan Demianitch. +'Life's given us for use, and still more for beauty, as some celebrated +poet has observed. Kolka, wipe your nose, little savage!' + + +IX + + +'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through your doing,' +I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way home with him. 'You told +me that that girl--what's her name?--Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. +Ratsch, but she's his stepdaughter.' + +'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it all the +same?' + +'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! Did you +notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews before her? Is +she... a Jewess?' + +Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow was crisp, +like salt, under our feet. + +'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he observed at +last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish extraction.' + +'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + +'Probably.' + +'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is his +stepson too?' + +'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter into other +people's affairs, and I don't like asking questions. I'm not +inquisitive.' + +I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near home, I +overtook him and peeped into his face. + +'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + +Fustov frowned. + +'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only she's very +shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. He seemed to be +regretting having made me acquainted with her. + +I said nothing and we parted. + + +X + + +Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my mornings at his +rooms had become a necessity for me. He received me cordially, as usual, +but of our visit of the previous evening--not a word! As though he had +taken water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the pages +of the last number of the _Telescope._ + +A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to be Mr. +Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been censured by his father +the evening before. + +He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked dissipated and +unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on his unclean face, and an +expression of fatigue in his swollen eyes. He was like his father, only +his features were smaller and not without a certain prettiness. But in +this very prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a +very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's coat, one +of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked of tobacco. + +'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar twitchings +of the head and shoulders which I have always noticed in spoilt and +conceited young men. 'I meant to go to the University, but here I am. +Sort of oppression on my chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across +the room, listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his +trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + +'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to each +other. We were both students, but were in different faculties. + +'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior smiled, +again not without a certain prettiness, though he showed a set of bad +teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. Yes'--he lighted a cigar and cleared +his throat--'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + +'Where's he going?' + +'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You know the +black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + +'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed Fustov. + +Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our den +yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + +'As usual.' + +'And _she_... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with his head in +my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + +'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + +'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + +Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round his head, +gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat hoarsely. + +I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as though giving +me to understand that it was no use talking to such a dolt. + + +XI + + +Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately and +through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, of a certain +Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of him, of the new +professor, R., whom he called a brute. 'Because, only fancy, what a +monstrous notion! Every lecture he begins with calling over the +students' names, and he's reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your +liberals locked up in custody!' and turning at last his full face and +whole body towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, +half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, Alexander +Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round somehow?... You play +duets with him, you know.... Here he gives me five miserable blue notes +a month.... What's the use of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he +goes on about my not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, +and then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like _some +people_.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with peculiar +emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's no use his whining +about hard times, there's no taking me in. No fear! He's made a snug +little pile!' + +Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + +'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if you like... +meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + +'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added Viktor, +scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, 'you might hand over +five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the same to you.... What's the blessed +total I owe you?' + +'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + +'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred and ten. I'll +pay it all in a lump.' + +Fustov went into the next room, brought back a twenty-five-rouble note +and handed it in silence to Viktor. The latter took it, yawned with his +mouth wide open, grumbled thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up +from the sofa. + +'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn in to the +"Italie."' + +He moved towards the door. + +Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with himself. + +'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor Ivanitch?' he asked +at last. + +Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + +'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets one. An +awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it you one of these +days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer affair. But, I say, the +governor, you won't forget about the governor, please! His hide is +thick, of course--German, and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you +can get through it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! +Dad's afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her brats! But +there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + +'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as the door +had slammed-to. + +His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned away from +me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + + +XII + + +All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about Susanna, and +about her relations. I had a vague feeling of something like a family +drama. As far as I could judge, my friend was not indifferent to +Susanna. But she? Did she care for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And +altogether, what sort of creature was she? These questions were +continually recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told +me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the solution of them. +It ended in my setting off the next day alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + +I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I found +myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear even, very likely,' +flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to stop with the repulsive veteran +and his cook of a wife.... And indeed, even if she does show herself, +what of it? She won't even take part in the conversation.... She was +anything but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I +come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page ran to +announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after two or three +wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard the heavy shuffling of +slippers, the folding-door was slightly opened, and in the crack between +its two halves was thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and +grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not +immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once recognise +me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes narrower, and from +his opening mouth, there burst, together with a guffaw, the exclamation: +'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? Pray walk in!' + +I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to me that +this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly wishing me at the +devil. There was nothing to be done, however. He led me into the +drawing-room, and in the drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, +bending over an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy +eyes, and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... It was +a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to nervous people. There +was no one else in the room. + +'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on the haunch, +'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy upon: we're at our +accounts. My spouse has no great head for arithmetic, and I, I must own, +try to spare my eyes. I can't read without spectacles, what am I to do? +Let the young people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. +But there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in catching +fleas, he-he!' + +Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + +'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great matter if +you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was wearing a very old, +almost childish, frock with short sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a +stickler for ceremony, and I should like just to clear up last week.... +You don't mind?'--he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony with +you, eh?' + +'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + +'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar Alexey +Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for business, but a minute +for recreation!" We'll devote one minute only to that same business... +ha-ha! What about that thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in +a low voice, turning his back on me. + +'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was with your +leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + +'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. 'I'm on the +spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's had that seventeen +roubles?' + +'The upholsterer.' + +'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + +'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, and planting +a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on his nose, he began +passing his finger along the lines. 'The upholsterer,.. the +upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money out of doors! Nothing pleases +you better!... Wie die Croaten! A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added +aloud, and he turned round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles +off his nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details +later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that account-book, +and come back to us and enchant our kind guest's ears with your musical +accomplishments, to wit, playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + +Susanna turned away her head. + +'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a great +pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I would not for +anything in the world be a trouble...' + +'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, eins, zwei, +drei!' + +Susanna made no response, and went out. + + +XIII + + +I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly reappeared. She had +not even changed her dress, and sitting down in a corner, she looked +twice intently at me. Whether it was that she was conscious in my manner +to her of the involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more +than curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or whether +she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any way, she suddenly went +to the piano, and laying her hand irresolutely on the keys, and turning +her head a little over her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would +like her to play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, +taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. I loved +music from childhood, but at that time I had but little comprehension of +it, and very slight knowledge of the works of the great masters, and if +Mr. Ratsch had not grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder +dieser Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had chosen. It +was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated sonata in F minor, opus +57. Susanna's playing impressed me more than I can say; I had not +expected such force, such fire, such bold execution. At the very first +bars of the intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I +felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, which +instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with sudden flight +upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very end. I kept, wanting--and +not daring--to sigh. I was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her +face; I saw only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down +on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her delicate arms +and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, moving. The last notes +died away. I sighed at last. Susanna still sat before the piano. + +'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, listened with +attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the fashion nowadays. Only, +why not play correctly? Eh? Put your finger on two notes at once--what's +that for? Eh? To be sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! +Turns it out hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + +Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of her face +in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the downcast eyelid, an +unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the little ear was red under the +lock pushed behind it. + +'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' pursued Mr. +Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the late Field they were +all--tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And +his own compositions the finest things! But all those now +"tloo-too-too," and "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for +beginners. Da braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no +matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' (Ivan +Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) 'But I don't say +that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played well, and oughtn't to be hurt +by my remarks.' + +'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, and her lips +were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan Demianitch, you know, cannot +hurt me.' + +'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'--Mr. Ratsch turned to +me--'don't you imagine, my young friend, that that comes from our +excessive good-nature and meekness of spirit; it's simply that we fancy +ourselves so highly exalted that--oo-oo!--we can't keep our cap on our +head, as the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can +touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + +I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest spite, seemed +as it were boiling over in every word he uttered.... And long it must +have been rankling! It choked him. He tried to conclude his tirade with +his usual laugh, and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna +did not let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, +raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, stared straight +at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open eyes the hatred of long +years lay smouldering with dim, unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + +'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, with an +effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to suggest that I noticed +nothing, 'and so it is not surprising that you do not agree in your +opinions.... But, Ivan Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... +the side of the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I +must confess nothing in music has ever made such an impression on me as +the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just played us.' + +Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + +'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from the fit of +coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? We don't want that at +all! Freedom for the free, salvation for the saved! But as to the two +generations, that's right enough; we old folks find it hard to get on +with you young people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: +neither in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna +Ivanovna?' + +Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + +'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not agree, and +cannot agree,' she responded, and something menacing seemed to flit over +her brows, while her lips were faintly trembling as before. + +'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a philosopher! I'm not +capable of... rising so superior! I'm a plain man, swayed by +prejudices--oh yes!' + +Susanna smiled again. + +'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able to place +yourself above what are called prejudices.' + +'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + +'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + +Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + +'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + +'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + +There followed a brief silence. + +'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare you... +such insolence...' + +Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and still +holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on them with her +fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She seemed to challenge him to +conflict, to stand up to meet him. Her face was changed; it became +suddenly, in one instant, extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a +sort of bright, cold brilliance--the brilliance of steel--gleamed in her +lustreless eyes; the lips that had been quivering were compressed in one +straight, mercilessly stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he +gazed blankly, and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to +say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran of the year +twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake about that. + +Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though calling upon me +to witness her victory, and the humiliation of her foe, and, smiling +once more, she walked out of the room. + +The veteran remained a little while motionless in his arm-chair; at +last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, he roused himself, got +up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, laughed his noisy guffaw. + +'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've been living +with that young lady, and yet she never can see when I'm joking, and +when I'm in earnest! And you too, my young friend, are a little puzzled, +I do believe.... Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + +'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling of some +alarm and disgust. + +'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he repeated, +stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied me into the passage. +'I may be a tiresome person, knocked about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a +good-hearted fellow, 'pon my soul, I am!' + +I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed with all +speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + + +XIV + + +'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I returned +homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a wretch of a man, and +she's a good girl. But what has there been between them? What is the +reason of this continual exasperation? What was the meaning of those +hints? And how suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + +Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to see +Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had only just been +licensed for performance after being first disfigured by the censors' +mutilations. We warmly applauded Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember +what actor took the part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was +indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a Hungarian jacket, +and boots with tassels, and came on later in a frockcoat of the colour +'flamme du punch,' then in fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as +suitable as it would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that +we were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, +probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was accepted as +correct and I believe it is acted in just the same way to-day. One of +the guests hopped excessively high, while his wig flew from side to +side, and the public roared with laughter. As we were coming out of the +theatre, we jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + +'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. 'How was +it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You must come and have +supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the supper!' + +Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of mind. His +little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and there were spots of +red on his face. + +'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + +'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little aside, and +pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle of the red and blue +notes then in use waved them in the air. + +Fustov was surprised. + +'Has your governor been so liberal?' + +Viktor chuckled. + +'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on your +intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose the old +skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, "if you like. Up to +twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you hear, inclusive! No, sir, this +was a gift from God in my destitution. A lucky chance.' + +'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + +Viktor frowned. + +'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a guardsman. He +only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a chain of circumstances! +It's worth telling... only this isn't the place. Come along to Yar's; +not a couple of steps. I'll stand the show, as I said!' + +We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without making any +objection. + + +XV + + +At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was served, champagne +was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting no detail, how he had in a +certain 'gay' house met this officer of the guards, a very nice chap and +of good family, only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made +friends, how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game of +'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to nothing, and with +the condition that the officer's winnings should go to the benefit of +Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his own benefit; how afterwards they had got +on to betting on the games. + +'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, 'I +hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at +first I was completely cleaned out.... A nice position! Only then--in +answer to whose prayers I can't say--fortune smiled. The other fellow +began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no time he'd lost +seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing, +but I'm not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I +popped on my hat and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie +with the governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another +bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + +We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing +with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his +society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being +very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more +loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making +on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and +his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and +after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a +badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging +expression on his distorted face. + +'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you please, what +do you look down on me for?' + +'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + +'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down on me, and +that person does too' (he pointed at me with his finger), 'so there! As +though you were yourself remarkable for such high and exalted +principles, and weren't just as much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse +even. Still waters... you know the proverb?' + +Fustov turned rather red. + +'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + +'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly everything +that's going on under my nose.... And I have nothing against it: first +it's not my principle to interfere, and secondly, my sister Susanna +Ivanovna hasn't always been so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down +on me?' + +'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! You're +drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the wall. 'He's swindled +some fool of his money, and now he's telling all sorts of lies!' + +Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his legs, which +were hanging over its arm. + +'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for with the +money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for lying. It's not my +fault that in her past Susanna Ivanovna...' + +'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your tongue... or...' + +'Or what?' + +'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + +'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge in flight. +He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! It stings--the truth +does, it seems!' + +'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his habitual +coolness and self-possession. + +'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + +'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted after us, 'he +despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + +Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had difficulty in +keeping up with him. All at once he stopped short and turned sharply +back. + +'Where are you going?' I asked. + +'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, God knows +what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see each other to-morrow. +Good-bye!' + +And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's hotel. + +Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, on going to +his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the country to his uncle's, +near Moscow. I inquired if he had left no note for me, but no note was +forth-coming. Then I asked the servant whether he knew how long +Alexander Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a +little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate Fustov's +exact address, and sauntered home, meditating deeply. This unexpected +absence from Moscow, in the winter, completed my utter perplexity. My +good aunt observed to me at dinner that I seemed continually expecting +something, and gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it +for the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'etes pas amoureux?' she +cried at last, having previously got rid of her companions. But I +reassured her: no, I was not in love. + + +XVI + + +Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the Ratschs'. I +fancied that in their house I should be sure to find a solution of all +that absorbed my mind, that I could not make out.... But I should have +had to meet the veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous +evening--the February wind was howling angrily outside, the frozen snow +tapped at the window from time to time like coarse sand flung by a +mighty hand--I was sitting in my room, trying to read. My servant came, +and, with a mysterious air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I +was surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a late +hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door opened and with swift +step there walked in a woman, muffled up in a light summer cloak and a +yellow shawl. Abruptly she cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were +covered with snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so +astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to the window, +and leaning her shoulder against the wall, remained motionless; only her +bosom heaved convulsively and her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath +came with a faint moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no +slight trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my youth +and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes the fate of a whole +life was being decided--a bitter and terrible fate. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + +She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her voice failed +her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her heavy coils of black +hair fell about her face.... The snow had not melted from off it. + +'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, on the +sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + +'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to the +window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You could not +expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + +She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her eyes with a +violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, devouring sobs, filled the +room. I felt a tightness at my heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had +seen Susanna only twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but +I had regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at once +these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only weeps like that +in the presence of death! + +I stood like one condemned to death myself. + +'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, wiping +first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. I've come to +you....' She was still sobbing, but without tears. 'I've come.... You +know that Alexander Daviditch has gone away?' + +In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she glanced at +me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of course, you will have +pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There was no other course left her then! + +I did not know what answer to make.... + +'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' Susanna was +saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to question me; he thought I +should not tell him all the truth, he could think that of me! As though +I had ever deceived him!' + +She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch with her +nail the patterns of ice that covered the window-pane. I went hastily +into the next room, and sending my servant away, came back at once and +lighted another candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... +I was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the +window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how lightly she +was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a broad leather belt, +that was all. I went up to her, but she did not take any notice of me. + +'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying softly from +side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me this last... last blow!' +She turned suddenly to me. 'You know his address?' + +'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at his house. +He told me nothing of his intention; I had not seen him for two +days--went to inquire and he had already left Moscow.' + +'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him then that he +has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He did not talk to you of me, +I dare say, but he talked to me about you. Write... ah, write to him to +come back quickly, if he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find +me!...' + +Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was quieter +altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful than the previous +sobs. + +'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on her clasped +hands. + +A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp whistle and a +thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the room.... The candles +flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I begged her to sit on the sofa. + +'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. Please.' She +huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had found herself a refuge +in the recesses of the window. 'Please.' + +'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your shoes are +soaked.' + +'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + +A panic seized me. + +'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I entreat +you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? You will see, every +thing will be cleared up, some misunderstanding... some unlooked-for +chance.... You will see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I +will write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... Is it +possible!' + +'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same subdued +voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to you, to a stranger, if +I had not known I should not long be living? Ah, all my past has been +swept away beyond return! You see, I could not bear to die so, in +solitude, in silence, without saying to some one, "I've lost every +thing... and I'm dying.... Look!"' + +She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I forget that +head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out look, those dark, +disordered tresses against the pale window-pane, even the grey, narrow +gown, under every fold of which throbbed such young, passionate life! + +Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + +'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... You must +live!' + +She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + +'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both her hands. +'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to suffer, too much! I +lived through it.... I hoped... but now... when even this is +shattered... when...' + +She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into thought. The +tragic line, which I had once noticed about her lips, came out now still +more clearly; it seemed to spread across her whole face. It seemed as +though some relentless hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for +ever on this lost soul. + +She was still silent. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with anything; +'he will come back, I assure you!' + +Susanna looked at me again. + +'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + +'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come back!' + +'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come back, I +cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of faith....' + +She clutched at her head. + +'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is it all? +What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am going mad!...' + +Her eyes came to a rest. + +'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to remind +her. + +She started. + +'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' She +hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little manuscript +book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran away.... But he +believed... he believed him!' + +I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would not +mention him, would not utter his detested name. + +'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you suppose +that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with that person?' + +'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, and bragged +of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! Here, here, take it,' +she went on, thrusting the manuscript into my hand, 'read it, send it to +him, burn it, throw it away, do what you like, as you please.... But I +can't die like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must +go.' + +She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + +'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, what a +storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And your home is not +near here. Let me at least go for a carriage, for a sledge....' + +'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me and taking +up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's sake! or... I can't +answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a dark abyss under my feet.... +Don't come near me, don't touch me!' With feverish haste she put on her +cloak, arranged her shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy +people, for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever cared +for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; one man loved +me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but death is all about me, +death and no escape! Now it is my turn.... Don't come after me,' she +cried shrilly. 'Don't come! don't come!' + +I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, I heard the +slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the window panes shook +again under the violent onslaught of the blast. + +I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life in those +days: I had had no experience of passion nor of suffering, and had +rarely witnessed any manifestation of strong feeling in others.... But +the sincerity of this suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it +had not been for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I +had dreamed it all--it was all so unlikely, and swooped by like a +passing storm. I was till midnight reading the manuscript. It consisted +of several sheets of letter-paper, closely covered with a large, +irregular writing, almost without an erasure. Not a single line was +quite straight, and one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited +trembling of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the +manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + + +XVII + +MY STORY + + +I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest +recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the country house +of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, in a small room on the +second storey. With me lived my mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead +painter, who had come from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an +extraordinarily beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, +that sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at her, I +was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I would burst into tears +and rush to embrace her. I had tutors come to me; I had music lessons, +and was called 'miss.' I dined at the master's table together with my +mother. Mr. Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately +manner; he always smelt of _ambre_. I stood in mortal terror of him, +though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy hand to kiss under +its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was elaborately courteous, but he +talked little even with her. He would say two or three affable words, to +which she promptly made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit +looking about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of Spanish +snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms of the Empress +Catherine on it. + +My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I learnt then, +from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky was +my father, and almost on the same day, my mother, by his command, was +married to Mr. Ratsch, who was something like a steward to him. I was +utterly unable to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was +bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the strain, my +mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, mamma,' I asked her, +'that scented bogey' (that was my name for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my +father?' My mother was terribly scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never +speak to any one of that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a +word!'... she repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her +bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That prohibition of +my mother's I understood.... I understood that I must be silent, that my +mother begged my forgiveness! + +My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love my mother, +and she did not love him. He married her for money, and she was obliged +to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably considered that in this way everything +had been arranged for the best, _la position etait regularisee_. I +remember the day before the marriage my mother and I--both locked in +each other's arms--wept almost the whole morning--bitterly, +bitterly--and silently. It is not strange that she was silent.... What +could she say to me? But that I did not question her shows that unhappy +children learn wisdom sooner than happy ones... to their cost. + +Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, and even by +degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did not talk to me... but +morning and evening, after flicking the snuff from his jabot with two +fingers, he would with the same two fingers--always icy cold--pat me on +the cheek and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also +smelling of _ambre_, which I never ate. At twelve years old I +became his reader---_sa petite lectrice_. I read him French books +of the last century, the memoirs of Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, +Helvetius, Voltaire's correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course +without understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, he +ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien remarquable!' +Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He had lived in Paris till +the Revolution, remembered Marie Antoinette, and had received an +invitation to Trianon to see her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, +according to his account, wore very large buttons--_exagere en +tout_, and was altogether a man of _mauvais ton, en depit de sa +naissance!_ Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that time; but +two or three times a year, addressing himself to the crooked old +emigrant whom he had taken into his house, and called for some unknown +reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, +the impromptu he had once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de +Polignac. I remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a +comparison between the Russians and the French: + + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austeres + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' + + +'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every time +exclaim. + +Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: his cheeks +were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and immobile, his eyes +agreeable and expressive, clear, black eyes, perfect agate. He was not +at all unreasonable, and was very courteous with every one, even with +the servants.... But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy +I always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his presence! Ah, +I was not to blame for them!... I was not to blame for what they had +made of me.... + +Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far from the +big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a cheerless life I led +there. She soon gave birth to a son, Viktor, this same Viktor whom I +have every right to think and to call my enemy. From the time of his +birth my mother never regained her health, which had always been weak. +Mr. Ratsch did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of +good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air and tried +to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he was cruel and rude. I +felt relief when I retired from Ivan Matveitch's presence; but my own +home too I was glad to leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed +from one shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I would +run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep snow, in a thin +frock--run to the big house to read to Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be +glad to go.... But when I was there, when I saw those great cheerless +rooms, the bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and +heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the white jabot and +white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over his fingers, with a +_soupcon_ of powder (so his valet expressed it) on his combed-back +hair, I felt choked by the stifling scent of _ambre_, and my heart +sank. Ivan Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall +behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, with a +bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a sumptuous Hebrew +costume, and simply covered with precious stones, with diamonds.... I +often stole a glance at this picture, but only later on I learned that +it was the portrait of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan +Matveitch's request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had +he succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! Loved +that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! Love him!' And yet, +when I recalled some of my mother's glances, some half-uttered phrases +and unconscious gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated +with horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such feelings! + +Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or four hours +together.... So much reading in such a loud voice was harmful to me. Our +doctor was anxious about my lungs and even once communicated his fears +to Ivan Matveitch. But the old man only smiled--no; he never smiled, but +somehow sharpened and moved forward his lips--and told him: 'Vous ne +savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette jeunesse.' 'In former +years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... the doctor ventured to observe. +Ivan Matveitch smiled as before. 'Vous revez, mon cher,' he interposed: +'le commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache a chaque mot. J'aime les +voix jeunes.' + +And I still went on reading, though my cough was very troublesome in the +mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan Matveitch made me play the +piano. But music always had a soporific influence on his nerves. His +eyes closed at once, his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, +'C'est du Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan Matveitch +looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had succeeded in overcoming +in himself 'la grossiere lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault +with him for one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When +Ivan Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would offer me +'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped by.... + +And then one night--a night never to be forgotten!--a terrible calamity +fell upon me. My mother died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. +Oh, what a sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down +upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with death! My poor +mother! Strange were our relations; we passionately loved each other... +passionately and hopelessly; we both as it were treasured up and hid +from each other our common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, +though we knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even of +the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to me, and she +never complained in words, though her whole being was nothing but one +dumb complaint. We avoided all conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I +kept hoping that the hour would come, and she would open her heart at +last, and I too should speak out, and both of us would be more at +ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, shrinking temper, +illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and most of all the eternal +question,--what is the use? and the relentless, unbroken flowing away of +time, of life.... All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the +words which would have loosed us from the burden of our secret--even the +last dying words of leave-taking--I was not destined to hear from my +mother! All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, 'Susanna +Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you her blessing!' and +then the pale hand stretched out from the heavy counterpane, the +agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... Oh, enough! enough! + +With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity I looked +next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the face of my father... +yes, my father! In my dead mother's writing-case were found his letters. +I fancied he looked a little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was +stirring in that heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to +his room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to read: +'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur l'histoire de France de +Mably, a la page 74... la ou nous avons ete interrompus.' And he had +not even had my mother's portrait moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed +call me to him, and giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he +observed: 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mere vous a privee de votre appui +naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter sur ma protection,' but with +the other hand he gave me at once a slight push on the shoulder, and, +with the sharpening of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he +added, 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you +know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + +Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in all its +glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat on the new grave. I +did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was filling my brain: 'Do you +hear, mother? He means to extend his protection to me, too!' And it +seemed to me that my mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which +it instinctively called up on my lips. + +At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to wring--not a +confession... no, indeed! but, at least, one warm word of kinship from +Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know what he was, and how little he was like +all that I pictured in my dreams as a _father_!... But I was so +lonely, so alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave +me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him for +something?' + +Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the monotonous round of +life, marked out and arranged for us. Viktor was growing into a boy. I +was eight years older and would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. +Ratsch opposed my doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep +strict watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow me +to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One day Mr. Ratsch +came into my room, perturbed, excited, and angry. On the previous +evening unpleasant rumours had reached me about my stepfather; the +servants were talking of his having been caught embezzling a +considerable sum of money, and taking bribes from a merchant. + +'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the table with his +fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan Matveitch.' + +'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + +'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm accused... +well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to eat, and you, too.' + +'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + +'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + +'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + +'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. Do you mean +to tell me you don't understand that?' + +He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks simply burning. +Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged in a rush upon me, drowning +me. + +'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at last--my own +voice seemed strange to me--'and I am not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I +will not ask him for anything. Bread, or no bread!' + +Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his fists. + +'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. 'I won't +forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for him, and, I was told, +shook his cane at him, the very cane which he had once exchanged with +the Due de la Rochefoucauld, and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and +extortioner! I put you outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak +Russian at all, and despised our 'coarse jargon,' _ce jargon vulgaire +et rude_. Some one once said before him, 'That same's self-understood.' +Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and often afterwards quoted the phrase +as an example of the senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. +'What does it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in Russian, +with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply that's understood, and why +same and self?' + +Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did not even +deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept his word: he never +forgot it. + +I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was low-spirited, +depressed, his health broke down a little. His fresh, rosy face grew +yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front tooth. He quite ceased going out, +and gave up the reception-days he had established for the peasants, +without the assistance of the priest, _sans le concours du clerge_. +On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in the habit of going in to the +peasants in the hall or on the balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, +and putting his lips to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a +speech something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even as I +am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We are all _brothers_; +at our birth we are equal; I drink your health!' He bowed to them, and +the peasants bowed to him, but only from the waist, no prostrating +themselves to the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were +entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no longer +showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he interrupted my reading with +exclamations: 'La machine se detraque! Cela se gate!' Even his +eyes--those bright, stony eyes--began to grow dim and, as it were, +smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and breathed hard in his sleep. His +manner with me was unchanged; only a shade of chivalrous deference began +to be perceptible in it. He never failed to get up--though with +difficulty--from his chair when I came in, conducted me to the door, +supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and instead of Suzon began +to call me sometimes, 'ma chere demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' +M. le Commandeur died two years after my mother's death; his death +seemed to affect Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had +disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later years M. le +Commandeur's sole service had consisted in crying, 'Bien joue, mal +reussi!' every time Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards +with Mr. Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed him +at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le Commandeur, +c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses _Lettres Persanes_?' he had +still, sometimes dropping a spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded +profoundly: 'Ah, Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand ecrivain, monsieur, +un grand ecrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch told him that 'les +theophilanthropes ont eu pourtant du bon!' the old man cried in an +excited voice, 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the +course of twenty years in learning to pronounce his patron's name +correctly), 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de +cette secte, ce La Reveillere Lepeaux etait un bonnet rouge!' 'Non, +non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and rolling together a pinch of +snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out +eu du bon, ils out eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of +Ivan Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his knowledge to +himself. + +Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a good face on +it. One day, three weeks before his death, he had a violent attack of +giddiness just after dinner. He sank into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' +and pulling himself together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to +Petersburg to his sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no +intercourse for twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a +neighbour paid him a visit--a German, a Catholic--once a distinguished +physician, who was living in retirement in his little place in the +country. He was very rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always +received him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect for +him. He was almost the only person in the world he did respect. The old +man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a priest, but Ivan Matveitch +responded that 'ces messieurs et moi, nous n'avons rien a nous dire,' +and begged him to change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he +gave his valet orders to admit no one in future. + +Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there were blue +patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and stiff, his jaw hung +down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he said, with difficulty articulating +the consonants, but still trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous +allez peut-etre bientot rester seule. Soyez toujours sage et vertueuse. +C'est la derniere recommandation d'un'--he coughed--'d'un vieillard qui +vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommande a mon frere et je ne doute pas +qu'il ne respecte mes volontes....' He coughed again, and anxiously felt +his chest. 'Du reste, j'esepre encore pouvoir faire quelque chose pour +vous... dans mon testament.' This last phrase cut me to the heart, like +a knife. Ah, it was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan +Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling--to a feeling of grief +or gratitude--what was expressed in my face, and as though wishing to +comfort me, he patted me on the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, +gently repelling me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous +sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. Ce n'est +qu'une precaution que j'ai cru devoir prendre.... Allez!' + +Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's death, I longed +to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! your daughter!' But I thought +in those words, in that cry of the heart, he would doubtless hear +nothing but a desire to assert my rights, my claims on his property, on +his money.... Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to +this man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in whose +eyes I was of so little account that he did not even trouble himself to +ascertain whether I was aware of my parentage! Or, perhaps, he +suspected, even knew it, and did not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite +saying of his, almost the only Russian expression he ever used), did not +care to deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! Let +him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her mother! Let him +carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I swore he should not hear +from my lips the word which must have something of a sweet and holy +sound in every ear! I would not say to him father! I would not forgive +him for my mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of +that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt no need of +it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should not, he should not! + +God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my heart would +not have softened, whether I should not have overcome my shyness, my +shame, and my pride... but it happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with +my mother. Death carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was +again Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to Ivan +Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last dying gestures, +which had left such a vivid impression on my memory at my mother's +bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged pillows lay a sort of withered, +dark-coloured doll, with sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I +shrieked with horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways +against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, and found +myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + +I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the bedroom, at a +violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan Matveitch not in the bed, but a +few feet from it. And that he was sitting huddled up on the floor, and +that twice over he repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for +you!' And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe that. Was +it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, and such a homely old +Russian saying too! + +For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival of the new +master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders that nothing was to +be touched, no one was to be discharged, till he had looked into +everything in person. All the doors, all the furniture, drawers, +tables--all were locked and sealed up. All the servants were downcast +and apprehensive. I became suddenly one of the most important persons in +the house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as 'the +young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to take a new +significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar emphasis. It began to +be whispered that 'the old master had died suddenly, and hadn't time to +send for a priest, indeed and he hadn't been at confession for many a +long day; but still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + +Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. He did not +affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he would not impose upon +me, but his face wore an expression of sulky resignation. 'You see, I +give in,' he seemed to say. Every one showed me deference, and tried to +please me... while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could +only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were hurting me. At +last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + +Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, and his +whole life had taken a completely different turn. He was a government +official in Petersburg, filling an important position.... He had married +and been left early a widower; he had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch +was like his brother, only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round +bald head, bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more +prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he spoke of even +after his death as a French philosopher, and sometimes bluntly as a +queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost invariably talked Russian, loudly +and fluently, and he was constantly laughing, completely closing his +eyes as he did so and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though +he were shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went +into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from every one. +The very first day of his arrival he ordered a service with holy water, +and sprinkled everything with water, all the rooms in the house, even +the lofts and the cellars, in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel +the Voltairean and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan +Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was even +banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was inflicted on others; +the old valet--he was a Turk, knew French, and had been given to Ivan +Matveitch by the late field-marshal Kamensky--received his freedom, +indeed, but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, 'as +an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be a harsh master; +many probably regretted the late owner. + +'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit with age, +wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see that the linen put +out was clean, and that the rooms smelt sweet, and that the servants' +voices weren't heard in the passages--God forbid! For the rest, you +might do as you pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! +Ah, it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + +Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in the +position in which I had been placed for a few days against my own +will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan Matveitch's papers, not a +line written for my benefit. At once every one seemed in haste to avoid +me.... I am not speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry +with me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived them. + +One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at the altar, +Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had seen him by glimpses, +and he seemed not to have noticed me. He received me in his study, +standing at the window. He was wearing an official uniform with two +stars. I stood still, near the door; my heart was beating violently from +fear and from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I +wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, glancing first at +my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. The look was like a slap in the +face. 'I wished to see you to inform you of my decision, and to assure +you of my unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised +his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my brother's +reader you may always reckon on my... my consideration. I am... of +course convinced of your good sense and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, +your stepfather, has already received from me the necessary +instructions. To which I must add that your attractive exterior seems to +me a pledge of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went +off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended exactly... but I +suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and at that moment I fully +realised how utterly forsaken and alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went +with short, firm steps to the table, took a roll of notes out of the +drawer, and putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from +me for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; but +good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the roll +mechanically: I should have taken anything he had offered me, and going +back to my own room, a long while I wept, sitting on my bed. I did not +notice that I had dropped the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +found it and picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, +kept it for himself. + +An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in those days. +After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, he became a great +favourite, and soon after received the position of head steward. From +that time dates his cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it +was an effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became a +habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. Semyon +Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he called himself 'a +true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the European dress, which he wore +however. He sent away to a remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan +Matveitch had spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known +how to prepare pickled giblets. + +Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the responses +with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were brought together to dance +and sing choruses, he would join in their songs too, and beat time with +his feet, and pinch their cheeks.... But he soon went back to +Petersburg, leaving my stepfather practically in complete control of the +whole property. + +Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, and I gave +myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately Mr. Ratsch was very +fully occupied, but he took every opportunity to make me feel his +hostility; as he had promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He +ill-treated me, made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon +Matveitch, and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to +obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he meant to +tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you mean by those mutinous +eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, drinking his beer, and slapping +the table with his hand. 'You think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, +so you must be all right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a +sheep too!' My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was +growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more frequently to +stir within it. I passed nights without sleep and without a light, +thinking, thinking incessantly; and in the darkness without and the +gloom within, a fearful determination began to shape itself. The arrival +of Semyon Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + +No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring in +unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the Alexander ribbon, +and they had presented him with a snuff-box. Discontented with the +government, which had failed to appreciate his talents, and with +Petersburg society, which had shown him little sympathy, and did not +share his indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and +devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived alone. His +son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the holidays for the New Year. +My stepfather was scarcely ever out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still +stood high in his good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for +me then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start a paper +factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of manufacturing work, and +Semyon Matveitch was aware of the fact; but then my stepfather was an +active man (the favourite expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That +was just what Semyon Matveitch used to call him--'my Araktcheev!' +'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there is zeal, I +myself will direct it.' In the midst of his numerous occupations--he had +to superintend the factory, the estate, the foundation of a +counting-house, the drawing up of counting-house regulations, the +creation of new offices and duties--Semyon Matveitch still had time to +attend to me. + +I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to play the +piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less than his brother; he +praised and thanked me, however, and next day I was invited to dine at +the master's table. After dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long +conversation with me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, +though there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at me +so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his eyes, I did not +like their open expression, their clear glance.... It always seemed to +me that this very openness concealed something evil, that under that +clear brilliance it was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my +reader,' Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and setting +himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank God, not blind yet, +and can read myself; but coffee will taste better to me from your little +hands, and I shall listen to your playing with pleasure.' From that day +I always went over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in +the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was in favour: +it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon Matveitch, I am bound to own, +showed me a certain respect, but in the man there was, I felt it, +something that repelled and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed +itself not in words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his +laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and it seemed +to me that he avoided the subject, not because he did not want to excite +ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, but from another cause, to which I +could not give a definite shape, but which made me blush and feel +bewildered.... Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + +Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are too +painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... But what is +the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he loved me. + +How it came to pass--I am not going to describe that either. From the +very evening when he came into the drawing-room--I was at the piano, +playing a sonata of Weber's when he came in--handsome and slender, in a +velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he was, +straight from the frost outside, and shaking his snow-sprinkled, sable +cap, before he had greeted his father, glanced swiftly at me, and +wondered--I knew that from that evening I could never forget him--I +could never forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his +voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, and in every +sound such a true, honest nature! + +Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced him, but +at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' and sent me away. + +I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights flitting to and +fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched them, I listened to the +new, unfamiliar voices; I was attracted by the cheerful commotion, and +something new, unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next +day before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had come +across to see my stepfather with some message from Semyon Matveitch, and +he found me in our little sitting-room. I was getting up to go; he +detained me. He was very lively and unconstrained in all his movements +and words, but of superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of +Petersburg superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the +officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very freedom of +his manner there was something appealing, almost shamefaced, as though +he were begging you to overlook something. Some people's eyes are never +laughing, even at the moment of laughter; with _him_ it was the +lips that almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes were +almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an hour... what about I +don't remember; I remember only that I looked him straight in the face +all the while, and oh, how delightfully at ease I felt with him! + +In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of music, and he +sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly head on his arm, he +listened intently. He did not once praise me, but I felt that he liked +my playing, and I played with ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting +near his son, looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, +madam,' he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as his +manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away like a canary? +It's enough to make one's head ache. For us old folks you wouldn't exert +yourself so, no fear...' he added in an undertone, and again he sent me +away. Michel followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his +seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried Semyon +Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said something more... I +could not catch his words; but Mr. Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a +corner of the drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he +had brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my ears.... +The same thing, or almost the same thing, was repeated the following +evening... Semyon Matveitch grew suddenly cooler to me. + +Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the big house +in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a room near the +dining-room, which was called the portrait gallery. I followed him, not +without emotion, but with perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I +would have followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no +suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with all the +passion, all the despair of a young creature who not only has no one to +love, but feels herself an uninvited and unnecessary guest among +strangers, among enemies!... Michel said to me--and it was strange! I +looked boldly, directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and +flushed slightly--he said to me that he understood my position, and +sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive his father.... 'As far as +I'm concerned,' he added, 'I beseech you always to trust me, and believe +me, to me you 're a sister--yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand +warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had somehow +expected something else, some other word. I began to thank him. 'No, +please,'--he cut me short--'don't talk like that.... But remember, it's +a brother's duty to defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, +against any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, but I +have seen a good deal already... and among other things, I see through +your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand again, and left me. + +I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. Ratsch from +his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried to ingratiate himself +with him too, but becoming convinced of the uselessness of his efforts, +promptly took up himself an attitude of hostility to him, and not only +did not disguise it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no +opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his regret that +he had been so unlucky as to displease the young heir. Mr. Ratsch had +carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's character; his calculations did not +lead him astray. 'This man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the +very reason that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot +endure him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's head. +They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are readily caught by +that bait, the bait of exclusive personal devotion.... + +Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his Araktcheev.... +He might well have called him another name too. 'You're not one to make +difficulties,' he used to say to him. He had begun in this +condescendingly familiar tone with him from the very first, and my +stepfather would gaze fondly at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop +deprecatingly on one side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as +though to say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + +Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against the table +on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for me to recall those +days, and my blood boils.... But I will tell everything to the end... to +the end! + +A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me during my brief +period of favour. He began to be deferential to me, to be respectfully +familiar with me, as though I had grown sensible, and become more on a +level with him. 'You've done with your airs and graces,' he said to me +one day, as we were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite +right too! All those fine principles and delicate sentiments--moral +precepts in fact--are not for us, young lady, they're not for poor +folks.' + +When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it necessary +to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his sympathy with me, the +latter suddenly redoubled his severity with me; he was continually +following me about, as though I were capable of any crime, and must be +sharply looked after. 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting +without knocking into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his +head; 'I won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up +airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud spirit.' + +And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree had gone +forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear at the dinner-table +for the future without special invitation.... I don't know how all this +would have ended if it had not been for an event which was the final +turning-point of my destiny.... + +Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his head to +break in a young horse, which went well for a while, then began kicking +and flung him out of the sledge.... He was brought home unconscious, +with a broken arm and bruises on his chest. His father was +panic-stricken; he sent for the best doctors from the town. They did a +great deal for Michel; but he had to lie down for a month. He did not +play cards, the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him +to read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended by +Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old capacity of reader. + +Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to Michel +directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table in the +half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a little room out of +the drawing-room, at the further end, on a broad leather sofa in the +Empire style, with a gold bas-relief on its high, straight back. The +bas-relief represented a marriage procession among the ancients. +Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always moved at once, +and his pale face turned towards me: he smiled, his whole face +brightened, he flung back his soft, damp curls, and said to me softly, +'Good-morning, my kind sweet girl.' I took up the book--Walter Scott's +novels were at the height of their fame in those days--the reading of +Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection in my mind.... I +could not help my voice thrilling and quivering as I gave utterance to +Rebecca's speeches. I, too, had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like +hers? Was I not, like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every +time I removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met his +eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. We talked very +little; the door into the drawing-room was invariably open and some one +was always sitting there; but whenever it was quiet there, I used, I +don't know why, to cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he +looked at me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and +shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other then without a +gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came together, ran to meet each +other, as underground streams flow together, unseen, unheard... and +irresistibly. + +'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + +'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + +'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up the table.' + +I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not dare +glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the room, how freely I +had gazed at him! + +I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + +'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an undertone, +also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer me.' + +I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, moved a +pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at him. His head was +stretched a little forward; pale all over, with imploring eyes he signed +towards my hand... + +Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something +instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely breathing, +I took up the knight and moved it right across the board. Michel bent +down swiftly, and catching my fingers with his lips, and pressing them +against the board, he began noiselessly and passionately kissing +them.... I had no power, I had no wish to draw them back; with my other +hand I hid my face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... +oh, what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, I knew, +with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that he was who held my +hand in his power! I knew that he was not a boy, carried away by a +momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, not a military Lovelace, but one of +the noblest, the best of men... and he loved me! + +'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make you shed +other tears than these.' + +He was wrong... he did. + +But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... especially, +especially now? + +Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that Semyon +Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not conceal it from +me. I had no doubt about it myself and I rejoiced, not that he did not +deceive me--he _could not_ deceive--but that he did not try to +delude himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have followed +where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he repeated to me. 'I am +not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is not with Lady Rowena.' + +Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going to see him, +but everything was decided between us. I was already entirely absorbed +in the future; I saw nothing of what was passing around me, as though I +were floating on a glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. +But we were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I noticed +my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his loathsome laugh.... But +that laugh, those eyes as it were emerged for an instant from the +mist... I shuddered, but forgot it directly, and surrendered myself +again to the glorious, swift river... + +On the day before the departure of Michel--we had planned together that +he was to turn back secretly on the way and fetch me--I received from +him through his trusted valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him +at half-past nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched +room, built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that he +absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had twice already +met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the key of the outer door. As +soon as it struck half-past nine I threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, +stepped quietly out of the lodge, and made my way successfully over the +crackling snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood +a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind whistled +shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver passed over me, but I put +the key into the lock, went into the room, closed the door behind me, +turned round... A dark figure became visible against one of the walls, +took a couple of steps forward, stopped... + +'Michel,' I whispered. + +'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a voice, +which seemed to rend my heart... + +Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + +I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + +'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite equal to +stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have to be equal to the +consequences.' + +I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the door... In vain! +Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon Matveitch held me tight. + +'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + +'I tell you you shan't stir!' + +Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness I could not +distinguish his face. I had turned away from him too, but I heard him +breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I felt neither fear nor despair, +but a sort of senseless amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb +like that in the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which +still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious claw.... + +'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's come to +this... Ah, wait a bit!' + +I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I almost +shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and menace burst upon +me... + +'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + +Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not control +myself... I screamed. + +That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little quieter, let +go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps from me, between me and +the door. + +A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily as before. + +'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see that your +morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you are still capable of +listening to the voice of reason. Impulsive folly I can overlook, but +stubborn obstinacy--never! My son...' there was a catch in his +breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? Hasn't he? +Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + +I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost flying into +fury again. + +'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after a brief +pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my daughter-in-law? A pretty +notion! But you're not a child of four years old, and you must be fully +aware that young boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if +only they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could you +suppose that I--a noble gentleman of ancient family, Semyon Matveitch +Koltovsky--would ever give my consent to such a marriage? Or did you +mean to dispense with the parental blessing?... Did you mean to run +away, get married in secret, and then come back, go through a nice +little farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old man +will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + +I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to speak--that +was not in his power. + +He walked up and down a little. + +'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You mustn't think... +don't imagine... I see one must talk to you in a different manner. +Listen; I understand your position. You are frightened, upset.... Pull +yourself together. At this moment I must seem to you a monster... a +despot. But put yourself in my position too; how could I help being +indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you that I am +not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember how I treated you on my +arrival here and afterwards till... till lately... till the illness of +Mihail Semyonitch. I don't wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should +have thought simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the +slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + +Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still patted me +lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still ached from his violence, +and was for long after marked with blue bruises. + +'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a little +headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to think, we don't care to +consider what our advantage consists in and where we ought to seek it. +You ask me: where that advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... +It's, maybe, close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of +the family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm a man +at the same time, and you know that very well. Undoubtedly I'm a +practical person and of course cannot tolerate any sentimental nonsense; +expectations that are quite inconsistent with everything, you must of +course dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in +them?--not to speak of the immorality of such a proceeding.... You will +assuredly realise all this yourself, when you have thought it over a +little. And I say, simply and straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine +myself to what I have done for you. I have always been prepared--and I +am still prepared--to put your welfare on a sound footing, to guarantee +you a secure position, because I know your value, I do justice to your +talents, and your intelligence, and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch +stooped down to me a little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... +though I am not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I +understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy matter.' + +These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe my ears. +For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch meant to bribe me +to break with Michel, to pay me 'compensation.'... But what was he +saying? My eyes had begun to get used to the darkness and I could make +out Semyon Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was +walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly before me.... + +'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer please you?' + +'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not understand a +word. + +Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting thin laugh. + +'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young women'--he corrected +himself--'young ladies... young ladies... you all dream of nothing +else... you must have young men! You can't live without love! Of course +not. Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that it's +only young men that can love?... There are some older men, whose hearts +are warmer... and when once an old man does take a fancy to any one, +well--he's simply like a rock! It's for ever! Not like these beardless, +feather-brained young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! +They can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! Yes... yes! +And as for kissing, old men know all about that too, he-he-he...' Semyon +Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, please... your little hand... just as a +proof... that's all....' + +I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him a blow in +the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of decrepit, scared sound, he +almost fell down. There are no words in human language to express how +loathsome and infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had +left me. + +'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get away, Mr. +Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! I, too, am of your +blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I curse the day and the hour +when I was born of that ancient family!' + +'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon Matveitch, +gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very minute when I've caught +you... when you came to meet Misha... eh? eh? eh?' + +But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, desperate was +roused up within me. + +'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the insolence, +you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be so blind as not to +have seen long ago the loathing you arouse in me?... You dare use the +word offer!... Let me out at once, this instant!' + +I moved towards the door. + +'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon Matveitch piped +shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but obviously not able to make up his +mind to come near me.... 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come +here!' + +The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near flew wide +open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted candelabrum in each +hand. His round, red face, lighted up on both sides, was beaming with +the triumph of satisfied revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered +valuable service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I cease +to behold them? + +'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon Matveitch, +turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing to me with a shaking +hand. 'Be so good as to take her home and put her under lock and key... +so that she... can't stir a finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! +Till further orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll +answer for her with your head!' + +Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made Semyon +Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a malignant smile, +moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, approaches a mouse who has no chance +of escape in that way. All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the +man was capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! oh +ignominy! I shivered. + +'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + +He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He saw that I +should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed forward towards the door; +at that instant I had but one thought in my mind, to escape as quickly +as possible from the presence of Semyon Matveitch. + +But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and Ratsch +stopped me and turned me round face to face with his patron. + +'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the brother... +of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a cousin, a first cousin you +could marry? You could? eh? Take her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. +'And remember, keep a sharp look-out! The slightest communication with +her--and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + +Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, he said +nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He closed the +shutters and the doors, and then, as he was finally returning, he bowed +low to me as he had to Semyon Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, +triumphant guffaw! + +'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she didn't catch +her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad idea in its way! It's a +lesson for the future: not to keep up correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How +capitally it has all turned out though!' He went out, and all of a +sudden poked his head in at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? +Hey? I kept my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I +breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... but they +were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched the silken cord off my +dressing-gown, made a noose, and was putting it on my neck, but I flung +the cord aside again at once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What +madness, really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my +life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel wretches! No! +You have not won your game yet! He will save me, he will tear me out of +this hell, he... my Michel!' + +But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and I flung +myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and sobbed.... And only +the thought that my tormentor was perhaps at the door, listening and +triumphing, only that thought forced me to swallow my tears.... + +I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it is evening; +if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I shall not be capable +of taking up the pen again.... I must hasten, hasten to the finish! And +besides, to dwell on the hideous things that followed that dreadful day +is beyond my strength! + +Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an isolated hut, +surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, and kept shut up for six +whole weeks! I was not for one instant alone.... Later on I learnt that +my stepfather had set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his +arrival, that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's note. +I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene had taken place the +next morning between the son and the father.... The father had cursed +him. Michel for his part had sworn he would never set foot in his +father's house again, and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed +at me by my stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch +announced that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the +estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an unpardonable +offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear the brunt of the +_scandal_. Semyon Matveitch recompensed Mr. Ratsch liberally, +however: he gave him the necessary means to move to Moscow and to +establish himself there. Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought +back to the lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The +loss of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived 'thanks +to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage against me more than +ever. + +'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting with +indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got a little too +hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he made a mess of it; now, +of course, his vanity's hurt, there's no setting the mischief right +again now! If you'd only waited a day or two, it'd all have been right +as a trivet; you wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have +stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but their wit is +short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, and that pretty young +gentleman shall smart for it too!' + +I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. Semyon Matveitch +I did not once see again. The separation from his son had been a shock +to him too. Whether he felt remorse or--which is far more likely--wished +to bind me for ever to my home, to my family--my family!--anyway, he +assigned me a pension, which was to be paid into my stepfather's hands, +and to be given to me till I married.... This humiliating alms, this +pension I still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for +me.... + +We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor mother, I would +not have remained two days, not two hours, with my stepfather, after +once reaching the town... I would have gone away, not knowing where... +to the police; I would have flung myself at the feet of the +governor-general, of the senators; I don't know what I would have done, +if it had not happened, at the very moment of our starting from the +country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give me a letter +from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I read over each line, how +many times I covered it with kisses! Michel besought me not to lose +heart, to go on hoping, to believe in his unchanging love; he swore that +he would never belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he +promised to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, he +asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a little.... + +And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not have +agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his will! That +letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my anchor. Sometimes when +my stepfather would begin abusing and insulting me, I would softly lay +my hand on my bosom (I wore Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and +only smile. And the more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, +lighter, and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at last, +by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was going out of my +mind.... Following on this first letter came a second, still more full +of hope.... It spoke of our meeting soon. + +Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can see Mr. +Ratsch coming in--and triumph again, malignant triumph, in his face--and +in his hands a page of the _Invalid_, and there the announcement of +the death of the Captain of the Guards--Mihail Koltovsky. + +What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. Ratsch's +house. He hated me as before--more than before--he had unmasked his +black soul too much before me, he could not pardon me that. But that was +of no consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my own +fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think of him! I had no +interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel died with my name on his +lips.... I was told so by a servant, devoted to him, who had been with +him when he came into the country. The same year my stepfather married +Eleonora Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he +secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... In the +event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + +Two--three--years passed... six years, seven years.... Life has been +passing, ebbing away... while I merely watched how it was ebbing. As in +childhood, on some river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, +and tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking through, +from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, and then you abandon +all your vain efforts, and you are glad instead to watch all that you +had guarded ebbing away to the last drop.... + +So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray of warmth +and light....' + +The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves had been +torn off, and several lines completing the sentence had been crossed +through and blotted out. + + +XVIII + + +The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression made by +Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep all night, and +early in the morning I sent an express messenger to Fustov with a +letter, in which I besought him to come to Moscow as soon as possible, +as his absence might have the most terrible results. I mentioned also my +interview with Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. +After having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all day, +and pondered all the time on what might be happening at the Ratsches'. I +could not make up my mind to go there myself. I could not help noticing +though that my aunt was in a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to +be burnt every minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the +traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never succeed. The +visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late hour, had not been kept +secret from her: her imagination at once pictured a yawning abyss on the +edge of which I was standing, and she was continually sighing and +moaning and murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript +book entitled _Extraits de Lecture_. In the evening I found on the +little table at my bedside the treatise of De Girando, laid open at the +chapter: On the evil influence of the passions. This book had been put +in my room, at my aunt's instigation of course, by the elder of her +companions, who was called in the household Amishka, from her +resemblance to a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, +not to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the following day +was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's coming, of a letter from +him, of news from the Ratsches' house... though on what ground could +they have sent to me? Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit +her.... But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her without +first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression in my letter to +him.... I thought it was strong enough; at last, late in the evening, he +appeared. + + +XIX + + +He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate step. His +face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces of the fatigue of +the journey, there was an expression of astonishment, curiosity, and +dissatisfaction--emotions of which he had little experience as a rule. I +rushed up to him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and +after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed him the +manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very window in which +Susanna had sat two days before, and without a word to me, he fell to +reading it. I at once retired to the opposite corner of the room, and +for appearance' sake took up a book; but I must own I was stealthily +looking over the edge of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he +read rather calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on +his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not stir again. +His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his mouth slightly opened. At +last he finished the manuscript, turned it over, looked round, thought a +little, and began reading it all through a second time from beginning to +end. Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved towards +the door; but he turned round and stopped in the middle of the room. + +'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to speak. + +'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. 'I have +behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed that... Viktor--' + +'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what could he say +to you?' + +Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was ashamed, I saw +that. + +'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor alluded +to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my head. It's the cause +of everything. I began questioning him.... Well, and he--' + +'What did he say?' + +'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... Koltovsky, had +allowed Susanna that pension because... on account of... well, in fact, +by way of damages.' + +I flung up my hands. + +'And you believed him?' + +Fustov nodded. + +'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young one... In +fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + +'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + +'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, savagely,' +he repeated. + +We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was ashamed; but it +was easier for me; I was not ashamed of myself. + + +XX + + +'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued Fustov, +clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm in fault. I see now +what the whole trick was contrived for, with Susanna's marriage they +would lose the pension.... Wretches!' + +I took his hand. + +'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + +'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... early +to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + +'But you... love her, Alexander?' + +Fustov seemed offended. + +'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + +'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + +Fustov stamped impatiently. + +'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared to marry +her--she's been baptized--I'm ready to marry her even now, I'd been +thinking of it, though she's older than I am.' + +At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure was seated +in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had burnt down; it was +dark in the room. I shivered, looked more intently, and saw nothing, of +course, in the window seat; but a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, +anguish and pity, came over me. + +'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I implore you, +go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off till to-morrow! An inner +voice tells me that you really ought to see Susanna to-day!' + +Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + +'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, most +likely they're all in bed.' + +'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a presentiment.... +Please do as I say! Go at once, take a sledge....' + +'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I go now? +To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything will be cleared up.' + +'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that you would +not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only think, imagine, to +make up her mind to come to me... what it must have cost her....' + +'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had apparently +regained his self-possession completely. 'All girls are like that... at +first. I repeat, everything will be all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, +good-bye. I'm tired, and you're sleepy too.' + +He took his cap, and went out of the room. + +'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about it?' I +called after him. + +'I promise.... Good-bye!' + +I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed with my +friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was wandering with Susanna +along underground, damp passages of some sort, and crawling along +narrow, steep staircases, and continually going deeper and deeper down, +though we were trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was +all the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive tones. + + +XXI + + +Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several times.... I +opened my eyes and in the faint light of the solitary candle, I saw +Fustov standing before me. He frightened me. He was staggering; his face +was yellow, almost the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging +down, his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become of +his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a cousin who from +epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov looked like him at that +moment. + +I sat up hurriedly. + +'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + +He made no answer. + +'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + +Fustov gave a slight start. + +'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + +'What of her? Have you seen her?' + +He stared at me. + +'She's no more.' + +'No more?' + +'No. She is dead.' + +I jumped out of bed. + +'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + +Fustov turned his eyes away again. + +'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + +'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + +'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + +'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + +They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + +I seized him by the hand. + +'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + +'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I came straight +to you.' + +My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising an +irrevocable misfortune. + +'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So suddenly! Or +perhaps she took her own life?' + +'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me she died at +midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + +'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive yesterday when I +fancied I saw her in the window, when I entreated him to hasten to +her....' + +'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to Ivan +Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my thought. + +'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we both knew her! +"High-flown," said he, "all girls are like that."... And at that very +minute, perhaps, she was putting to her lips... Can one love any one and +be so grossly mistaken in them?' + +Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, like a guilty +man. + + +XXII + + +I dressed hurriedly. + +'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + +He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the absurdity of +my question. And indeed what was there to do? + +'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound to +ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime concealed. One +may expect anything of those people.... It is all to be thoroughly +investigated. Remember the statement in her manuscript, the pension was +to cease on her marriage, but in event of her death it was to pass to +Ratsch. In any case, one must render her the last duty, pay homage to +her remains!' + +I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. In the midst +of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort of unconscious feeling +of superiority over Fustov had suddenly come to the surface in me.... +Whether from seeing him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, +distracted, shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost +always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, 'you can't +be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come off better than that!' +God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to me almost like a child, and I felt +pity for him, and saw the necessity of severity. I held out a helping +hand to him, stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is +free from condescension. + +But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at me--my +authoritative tone obviously had no effect on him, and to my second +question, 'You're going to them, I suppose?' he replied-- + +'No, I'm not going.' + +'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for yourself, to +investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has left a letter... a document +of some sort....' + +Fustov shook his head. + +'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, to ask you +to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + +Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both hands, and +sobbed bitterly. + +'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, poor girl... +poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + +I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the slightest sympathy +was excited in me by those incontestably sincere sobs. I simply +marvelled that Fustov could cry _like that_, and it seemed to me +that _now_ I knew what a small person he was, and that I should, in +his place, have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If +Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have hated him, have +conceived an aversion for him, but he would not have sunk in my +esteem.... He would have kept his prestige. Don Juan would have remained +Don Juan! Very late in life, and only after many experiences, does a man +learn, at the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to +sympathise with him, and help him without a secret self-congratulation +at his own virtue and strength, but on the contrary, with every humility +and comprehension of the naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + + +XXIII + + +I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the Ratsches'; but +when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock (nothing would induce +Fustov to go with me, he only begged me to give him an exact account of +everything), when round the corner of the street their house glared at +me in the distance with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one +of the windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I +would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, and went +into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the pink cover of the +coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a corner, leaning against the +wall. In one of the adjoining rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous +muttering of the deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the +drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, who murmured +in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the dead?' She indicated the +door of the dining-room. I went in. The coffin stood with the head +towards the door; the black hair of Susanna under the white wreath, +above the raised lace of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up +sidewards, crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful +God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no pity on her, +had denied her--beauty, that would be little--even that peace, that +tender and impressive peace which is often seen on the faces of the +newly dead. The little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the +visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that face! It +looked as though she were on the point of shrieking--a shriek of +despair--and had died so, uttering no sound... even the line between the +brows was not smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back +and clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a brief +interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and attentively at her. +Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. 'That girl died by violence,' I +decided inwardly; 'that's beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at +the dead girl, the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and +uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning again, and +yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, and went out into the +passage. + +In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on the +look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. Beckoning to +me with his hand, he led me to his own room--I had almost said, to his +lair. The room, dark and close, soaked through and through with the sour +smell of stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf +or a fox. + + +XXIV + + +'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external covering.... You +understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' said Mr. Ratsch, directly the +door closed. 'Such a misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was +nothing to notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! +It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; it's what was +to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov the regimental doctor, +Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... you've probably heard of him... a +first-rate medical man, a specialist--' + +'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + +'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, at first +in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to my surprise, with a +perceptible German accent, 'he was always warning me: "Ay, Ivan +Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must be careful! Your stepdaughter has +an organic defect in the heart--hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing +and there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions above +all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my word, with a +young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... ha... ha...' + +Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, but he +recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient guffaw into a +cough. + +And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found out about +him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him whether a doctor was +called in. + +Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + +'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was already +over--abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though they were agreeing' +(Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though they had agreed), 'rupture! +rupture of the heart! That's what, with one voice, they cried out. They +proposed a post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to +that.' + +'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + +'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The procession +will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.... From +here to the church of St. Nicholas on Hen's Legs... what strange names +your Russian churches do have, you know! Then to the last resting-place +in mother earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I +make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the elevation of +your sentiments!...' + +I made haste to nod my head. + +'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has been, as they +say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz aus heiterem Himmel!' + +'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left nothing?' + +'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of paper! Only +fancy, when they called me to her, when they waked me up--she was stiff +already! Very distressing it was for me; she has grieved us all +terribly! Alexander Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he +knows.... They say he is not in Moscow.' + +'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + +'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his sledge +harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming in--the same girl I had +seen in the passage. Her face, still looking half-awake, struck me this +time by the expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when +they know that their masters are in their power, and that they do not +dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. 'Eleonora +Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + +There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other side of the +door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's imperious call: 'Why on +earth don't they put the horses in? You don't catch me trudging off to +the police on foot!' + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. 'Eleonora +Karpovna, come here!' + +'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine Toilette +gemacht!' + +'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + +Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck with two +fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned up, and had not yet +done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to her. + +'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, hurriedly pointing +his finger first to the door, then to the window. 'Please, do see to it, +as quick as possible! Der Kerl schreit so!' + +'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' responded +Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the coachman myself, but he's +taken it into his head to give the horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity +to happen so suddenly,' she added, turning to me; 'who could have +expected such a thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + +'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw up his +arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did so, and displaying +most repulsive unmentionables of chamois leather, with buckles on the +belt. 'Rupture of the heart! rupture of the external membrane! +Hypertrophy!' + +'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... Well, so +it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I say again...' And +her coarse-featured face worked a little, her eyebrows rose into the +shape of triangles, and a tiny tear rolled over her round cheek, that +looked varnished like a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young +person who ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... +And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + +'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + +'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she went away, +still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and shedding tears. + +And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a student's coat with +a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily on one side. He barely glanced +at me over his shoulder, shook his collar up, and did not nod to me, for +which I mentally thanked him. + +I went back to Fustov. + + +XXV + + +I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with downcast head and +arms folded across his breast. He had sunk into a state of numbness, and +he gazed around him with the slow, bewildered look of a man who has +slept very heavily and has only just been waked. I told him all about my +visit to Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his wife, +described the impression they had made on me and informed him of my +conviction that the unhappy girl had taken her own life.... Fustov +listened to me with no change of expression, and looked about him with +the same bewildered air. + +'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + +'Yes.' + +'In the coffin?' + +Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + +'In the coffin.' + +Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly rubbed his +hands. + +'Are you cold?' I asked him. + +'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he shook his +head stupidly. + +I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had poisoned +herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the matter could not be +left so.... + +Fustov stared at me. + +'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his eyes wide +and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if it's known about. +They won't bury her. We must let things... alone.' + +This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My friend's +practical sense had not deserted him. + +'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + +'To-morrow.' + +'Are you going?' + +'Yes.' + +'To the house or straight to the church?' + +'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the cemetery.' + +'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and began +crying. It was at these same words that he had broken into sobs in the +morning. I have noticed that it is often so with weeping; as though to +certain words, for the most of no great meaning,--but just to these +words and to no others--it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, +to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity for others +and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once describing before me +the sudden death of her daughter, and she fairly dissolved and could not +go on with her tale as soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, +Fekla. And she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... +sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + +But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by Fustov's tears. +I could not conceive how it was he did not ask me if Susanna had not +left something for him. Altogether their love for one another was a +riddle to me; and a riddle it remained to me. + +After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the sofa, +turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I waited a little, +but seeing that he did not stir, and made no answer to my questions, I +made up my mind to leave him. I am perhaps doing him injustice, but I +almost believe he was asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that +he did not feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be +unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was too +awfully well-balanced! + + +XXVI + + +The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. Fine hail was +falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a slight frost, a thaw was +close at hand, but there were cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind +flitting across in the air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, +cold-catching weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In +a black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, he +fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, shouted up to +the house, and then down into the street, in the direction of the +funeral car with a white catafalque, already standing there with two +hired carriages. Near it four garrison soldiers, with mourning capes +over their old coats, and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up +eyes, were pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long +stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair positively +stood up straight above the red face of Mr. Ratsch, and his voice, that +brazen voice, was cracking from the strain he was putting on it. 'Where +are the pine branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' +he yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The pine! Hand +over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried once more, and dashed +into the house. It appeared that in spite of my punctuality, I was late: +Mr. Ratsch had thought fit to hurry things forward. The service in the +house was already over; the priests--of whom one wore a calotte, and the +other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and oiled his +hair--appeared with all their retinue on the steps. The coffin too +appeared soon after, carried by a coachman, two door-keepers, and a +water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on +the coffin lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled +Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, surrounded +by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor stepped out in a new +uniform with a sword with crape round the handle. The coffin-bearers, +grumbling and altercating among themselves, laid the coffin on the +hearse; the garrison soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began +crackling and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to +the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the fine snow +suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white flies.' Mr. Ratsch +bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the procession started. Besides Mr. +Ratsch's family, there were in all five men accompanying the hearse: a +retired and extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded +Stanislas ribbon--not improbably hired--on his neck; the police +superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man with a meek face and greedy +eyes; a little old man in a fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger +in a tradesman's bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. +The absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such two +aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, and a hunchback +old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her blue nose), the absence of +girl friends and acquaintances struck me at first; but on thinking it +over I realised that Susanna, with her character, her education, her +memories, could not have made friends in the circle in which she was +living. In the church there were a good many people assembled, more +outsiders than acquaintances, as one could see by the expression of +their faces. The service did not last long. What surprised me was that +Mr. Ratsch crossed himself with great fervour, quite as though he were +of the orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the +responses, though only with the notes not with the words. When at last +it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed low, but did not give the +last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the contrary, went through this terrible +ordeal with the utmost composure, and with a deferential inclination of +his person invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as +though offering him entertainment, and picking his children up under the +arms swung them up in turn and held them up to the body. Eleonora +Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, suddenly broke into a roar that +filled the church; but she was soon soothed and continually asked in an +exasperated whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself +aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to convey that he +was out of sympathy with all such customs and was only performing a +social duty. The person who showed the most sympathy was the little old +man in the smock, who had been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in +the Tambov province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know +Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits at the +sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to the church. She had +somehow or other found out that the deceased woman was the very lady who +had paid me a visit, and had been thrown into a state of indescribable +agitation! She could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of +misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange chain of +circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that Susanna had been led +by love for me to commit suicide, and attired in her darkest garments, +with an aching heart and tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of +the soul of the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of +the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her too, and she +too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at me, horror-stricken.... +That elderly spinster, alas! did not regard me with indifference. On +leaving the church, my aunt distributed all her money, more than ten +roubles, among the poor. + +At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. During the +whole service I had not courage to look straight at the poor girl's +distorted face; but every time that my eyes passed by it--'he did not +come, he did not come,' it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were +just going to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain +myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why did you do +it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not come!' I fancied for the +last time.... The hammer was knocking in the nails, and all was over. + + +XXVII + + +We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in number, of +all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than an idle crowd. The +wearisome journey lasted more than an hour. The weather became worse and +worse. Halfway there Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped +gallantly on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped +through the snow when, after the fateful interview with Semyon +Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl whose life he had +ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and eyebrows were edged with snow; +he kept blowing and uttering exclamations, or manfully drawing deep +breaths and puffing out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might +have thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass to +Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript recurred again +to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; we moved up to a freshly +dug grave. The last ceremony was quickly performed; all were chilled +through, all were in haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning +hole; they began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the +energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, did he +fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing himself into an +heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly before him... he could not have +shown more energy if he had been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as +before, held himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and +rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other children +eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and earth was a source of +great enjoyment to them, for which, of course, they were in no way to +blame. A mound began to rise up where the hole had been; we were on the +point of separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in +soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, announced to all +of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited us, and also the 'reverend +clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' which had been arranged at no great +distance from the cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior +restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured friend Sigismund +Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he indicated the assistant of the +police superintendent, and added that for all his grief and his Lutheran +faith, he, Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old +Russian usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the +ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we gentlemen +commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy departed servant!' Mr. +Ratsch's proposal was received with genuine sympathy; 'the reverend +clergy' exchanged expressive glances with one another, while the officer +of roads and highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and +called him a patriot and the soul of the company. + +We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, in the +middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the first storey, stood +two tables laid for dinner, covered with bottles and eatables, and +surrounded by chairs. The smell of whitewash, mingled with the odours of +spirits and salad oil, was stifling and oppressive. The police +superintendent's assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the +clergy in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were crowded +together conspicuously; after the priests the other guests took their +seats; the banquet began. I would not have used such a festive word as +banquet by choice, but no other word would have corresponded with the +real character of the thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, +even slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were emptied, +but sighs too were audible--possibly sighs of digestion, but possibly +also of feeling. There were references to death, allusions to the +brevity of human life, and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The +officer of roads and highways related a military but still edifying +anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, and himself +contributed an interesting fact from the life of the saint, Ivan the +Warrior. The priest with the superbly arranged hair, though his +attention was chiefly engrossed by the edibles, gave utterance to +something improving on the subject of chastity. But little by little all +this changed. Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter +reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected exclamations, +caressing appellations, after the manner of 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart +alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a pig like that'--everything, in fact, of +which the Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes +unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made champagne were +popping, the party had become noisy; some one even crowed like a cock, +while another guest was offering to bite up and swallow the glass out of +which he had just been drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, +suddenly rose from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great +noise before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out with +it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even bawled 'bravo!' and +clapped his hands... but he was already sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +lifted his glass high above his head, and announced that he proposed in +brief but 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the +noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk (die +irdische Hulle) has soared to heaven, and plunged...' Mr. Ratsch +corrected himself: 'and plashed....' He again corrected himself: 'and +plunged...' + +'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a subdued but +insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish good voice; honour us +with a song, strike up: "We live among the fields!"' + +'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the guests. + +...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, turning a +severe glance in the direction of the lover of music, 'plunged all her +family into the most irreplaceable grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, +'well may the Russian proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + +'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the table, 'my +purse has just been stolen!...' + +'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box on the +ear. + +Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, till then +only growling and faintly stirring within us, had suddenly broken from +its chains and reared up, ruffled and fierce in all its hideousness. It +seemed as though every one had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as +the natural outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed +to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered and rolled +about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, hands were waving in +the air, coat-tails were flying, and a fight began in earnest. + +'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the +fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most peaceable +person in the world; it is true he had been silently drinking some dozen +glasses of spirits. 'Thrash him!...' + +Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, he had no +idea, but he bellowed furiously. + +The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads and +highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected such a speedy +termination to his eloquence, tried to restore order... but their +efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the fishmonger, even fell foul of +Mr. Ratsch himself. + +'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he yelled at him, +shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the police, and here he's crowing +over it!!' + +At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I don't know; +I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off as fast as my legs would +carry me! All I remember is a fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains +of a herring in the hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat +flying right across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a +corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... Such were +the last impressions I carried away of the 'memorial banquet,' arranged +by the excellent Sigismund Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + +After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him all of +which I had been a witness during that day. He listened to me, sitting +still, and not raising his head, and putting both hands under his legs, +he murmured again, 'Ah! my poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down +on the sofa and turned his back on me. + +A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up his life +as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a keepsake: he gave +it me without raising any objection. + + +XXVIII + + +Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow and settled +in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to Petersburg. He had entered the +department of the Ministry of Finance, but we rarely met and I saw +nothing much in him then. An official like every one else, and nothing +more! If he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, +unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses dumb-bells, and +is as much a lady-killer as ever, and sketches Napoleon in a blue +uniform in the albums of his lady friends. It happened that I had to go +to Moscow on business. In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, +that the fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an +adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, two boys, +whom as a true Russian he had christened Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but +his house had been burnt down, he had been forced to retire from his +position, and worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become +practically a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in +Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to hear an +allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most insulting allusion! +I did all I could to defend the memory of the unhappy girl, to whom fate +had denied even the charity of oblivion, but my arguments did not make +much impression on my audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, +however, a little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I +have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' + + +I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. Susanna's image +rose before me; once more I seemed to see the frozen window in my room; +I recalled that evening and the blustering snowstorm, and those words, +those sobs.... I began to ponder how it was possible to explain +Susanna's love for Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively +given way to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it +she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter truth from +the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, even? How could she +fling herself at once headlong into the abyss? Because she was +passionately in love with Fustov, I shall be told; because she could not +bear the slightest doubt of his devotion, of his respect for her. +Perhaps; or perhaps because she was not at all so passionately in love +with Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but simply +rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over the thought that +even this man had at once, at the first breath of slander, turned away +from her with contempt! Who can say what killed her; wounded pride, or +the wretchedness of her helpless position, or the very memory of that +first, noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully pledged +herself in the morning of her early days, who had so deeply trusted her, +and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps at the very instant when I +fancied that her dead lips were murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul +was rejoicing that she had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The +secrets of human life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable +of those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of Susanna +rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity for her, and of +angry reproach against fate, and my lips whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy +girl! unhappy girl!' + +1868. + + + + + + +THE DUELLIST + + +I + + +A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the village of +Kirilovo, in the K--- province. That village, with its huts and +hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and gaunt willows, looked from a +distance like an island in a boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth +fields. In the middle of the village was a small pond, invariably +covered with goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces +from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden +manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one side. Behind +the house stretched the deserted garden; in the garden grew old +apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall birch-trees, full of rooks' +nests. At the end of the principal garden-walk, in a little house, once +the bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, gasping and +groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag himself across the garden +to the seignorial apartments, though there was nothing to take care of +in them except a dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two +podgy chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with +holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken nose. The +owner of the house, a careless young man, lived partly at Petersburg, +partly abroad, and had completely forgotten his estate. It had come to +him eight years before, from a very old uncle, once noted all over the +countryside for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles +are to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with rubbish of +all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured covers, scantily +filled with writing, old-fashioned glass lustres, a nobleman's uniform +of the Catherine period, a rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. +In one of the lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his +abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim and +sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, an emotional +person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, fond of flowers and female +society. The social life of the officers of this regiment did not differ +from any other kind of society. Among their number were good people and +bad, clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch +Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. Lutchkov was a +short and not thick-set man; he had a small, yellowish, dry face, lank, +black hair, unnoticeable features, and dark, little eyes. He had early +been left an orphan, and had grown up among privations and hardships. +For weeks together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at once--as +though he were possessed by some devil--he would let no one alone, +annoying everybody, staring every one insolently in the face; trying, in +fact, to pick a quarrel. Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof +from intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate terms +with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play cards, and did +not drink spirits. + +In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the manoeuvres, +there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor Fedorovitch Kister, a +Russian nobleman of German extraction, very fair-haired and very modest, +cultivated and well read. He had lived up to his twentieth year in the +home of his fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and +his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely to the +wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age could not see a white +plumed helmet without emotion.... He served with no special enthusiasm +but with energy, as it were conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a +dandy, but was always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of +his arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior officers, +and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had brought with him some +cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so forth. He papered all the walls +and the doors, put up some screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a +stable, and a kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole +week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards to go into +his room. Before the window stood a neat table, covered with various +little things; in one corner was a set of shelves for books, with busts +of Schiller and Goethe; on the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and +guns; near the table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; +there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and locked; the +windows were hung with curtains. Everything in Fyodor Fedoritch's room +had a look of cleanliness and order. + +It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. Often one +could scarcely make one's way across the muddy yard; in the outer room, +behind a canvas screen, with its covering peeling off it, would lie +stretched the snoring orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, +boots and a broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped +card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, half-full of cold, +dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, rickety, greasy sofa; on the +window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would +find the master of the place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson +plush facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, and +a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass collar would be +snoring at his side.... All the doors always ajar.... + +Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new comrades. They +liked him for his good-nature, modesty, warm-heartedness, and natural +inclination for everything beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in +another officer they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They +called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their manners +with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed him dubiously. One +day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, slightly pursing up his lips +and inflating his nostrils: + +'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + +Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + +'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + +'My name's Kister, sir.' + +'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. Lutchkov +looked after him with a grin. + +Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + +'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + +Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey +Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant glee. + +'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + +'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and +ill-bred--do you hear?--stupid and ill-bred.' + +'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + +'When you like,... to-morrow.' + +Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and +to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, +took him by the hand and begged his pardon. Kister had to keep indoors +for a fortnight. Avdey Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him +and on Fyodor Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was +pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling akin to +remorse was roused in his soul--it's hard to say... but from the time of +his duel with Kister, Avdey Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and +called him first Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he +became quite another man and--strange to say!--the change was not in his +favour. It did not suit him to be gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not +call forth in any one anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that +class of persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of +authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts essential for +the justification of such a privilege. Having received no education, not +being distinguished by intelligence, he ought not to have revealed +himself; possibly his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of +the defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself +altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at first +forced himself to despise people, then he began to notice that it was +not a difficult matter to intimidate them, and he began to despise them +in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed cutting short by his very approach all but +the most vulgar conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, +and I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall know +nothing and not show off your talents before me....' Kister, perhaps, +had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had taken up--just because before +his acquaintance with him, the bully had never met any one genuinely +idealistic, that is to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in +dreams, and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + +Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe and +quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in Kister's company +abashed by his own ignorance; he relied--and with good reason--on his +German modesty. + +'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been reading, I'll +bet, eh?' + +'Yes, I read....' + +'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell away.' +Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the end. + +'I read Kleist's _Idyll_. Ah, what a fine thing it is! If you don't +mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And Kister translated with +fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up his forehead and compressing his +lips, listened attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, +with a disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, I've +read it... very fine.' + +'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were reluctantly, +'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + +And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the Fourteenth, while +Lutchkov listened, totally failing to understand a great deal, +misunderstanding a part... and at last venturing to make a remark.... +This threw him into a cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' +he thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. But +Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the good-hearted youth was +inwardly rejoicing that, as he thought, the desire for enlightenment was +awakened in a fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for +enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God knows why he +did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself what sort of head he, +Lutchkov, had, whether it was really dull, or simply untrained. 'So I +really am stupid,' he said to himself more than once with a bitter +smile; and he would draw himself up instantly and look rudely and +insolently about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some +comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my man, you're +so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter between his teeth. +'I'll show you... that's all....' + +The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of Kister and +Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer ways. 'The devil's made +friends with the baby,' they said.... Kister was warm in his praises of +his friend on all hands; no one disputed his opinion, because they were +afraid of Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name +before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the perfumed +adjutant. + + +II + + +The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving balls, +inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off their daughters. + +About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just such a country +gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four hundred souls, and a +fairly spacious house. He had a daughter of eighteen, Mashenka, and a +wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. Perekatov had once been an officer in the +cavalry, but from love of a country life and from indolence he had +retired and had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of +the middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence in a not +perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished gentleman of Moscow. + +Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, as it is +called, in his own house, but got her off his hands rather hurriedly, at +the first offer, as a not very marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was +ugly; the distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten +thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To Mr. +Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a highly educated, +intellectual young lady... who was, after all, so closely related to so +illustrious a personage. This illustrious personage extended his +patronage to the young people even after the marriage, that is to say, +he accepted presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my +dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna took complete +possession of her husband, managed everything, and looked after the +whole property--very sensibly, indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. +Perekatov could have done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too +much; but she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and +dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper for a country +gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov grew a little Napoleonic +beard on his chin, to cover a large wart, which looked like an over-ripe +raspberry. Nenila Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that +her husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always let the +beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their instrument more +comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in the early morning, wore a +high, clean stock, and was well combed and washed. He was, moreover, +well content with his lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and +slept all he could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household +'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few servants, +and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by ambition; she wanted at +least to be the wife of the marshal of the nobility of the district; but +the gentry of the district, though they dined at her house to their +hearts' content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired +premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major Burundukov. +Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a product of the capital. + +Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her father. Nenila +Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with her education. She spoke +French well, and played the piano fairly. She was of medium height, +rather plump and white; her rather full face was lighted up by a kindly +and merry smile; her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her +pleasant voice--everything about her was gently pleasing, and that was +all. On the other hand the absence of all affectation and +conventionality, an amount of culture exceptional in a country girl, the +freedom of her expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks +could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her own free +will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in restraint. + +One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the Perekatovs were in +the drawing-room. The husband in a round green coat, a high check +cravat, and pea-green trousers with straps, was standing at the window, +very busily engaged in catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her +embroidery frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and +gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa, +gazing in silence at the floor. + +'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, Sergei +Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + +'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chere.' (He was under the +strictest orders not to call her 'little mother.') 'To be sure!' + +'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila Makarievna. 'Nobody +for the girls to dance with.' + +Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of partners. + +'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov asked?' + +'What Lutchkov?' + +'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting person.' + +'How's that?' + +'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every one's afraid of +him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma frowned a little.) 'I should so +like to see him.' + +Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + +'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he must look +like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just beginning to talk +about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I declare, my dear, there was a time +when I had a terrible character as a fighting man.' + +Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped up and +kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, too... but Sergei +Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + +'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila Makarievna. +'Possibly he may come too.' + +The daughter sighed. + +'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked Sergei +Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that nowadays--so--what shall +I say?--romantic...' + +'No,' Masha responded simply. + +Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei Sergeitch played +with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, then took his wide-brimmed, +English hat from the table, and set off to see after things on the +estate. + +His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent animal, she +was well aware that her master was not a person of very great authority in +the house, and behaved herself accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + +Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her head, and +looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell me when you fall in +love?' she asked. + +Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head several +times in the affirmative. + +'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her cheek, and she +went out after her husband. Masha leaned back in her chair, dropped her +head on her bosom, interlaced her fingers, and looked long out of +window, screwing up her eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh +cheeks; with a sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but +dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting the tips of +her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at her own shoulder, at her +outstretched hand, got up, went to the window, laughed, put on her hat +and went out into the garden. + +That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. Madame +Perekatov with great affability received and 'entertained' the ladies, +Mashenka the girls; Sergei Sergeitch talked about the crops with the +gentlemen and continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived +the young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at last +the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, Kister and Lutchkov. +He presented them to the lady of the house. Lutchkov bowed without +speaking, Kister muttered the customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. +Perekatov went up to the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him +in the face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked +forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a dance. At +that time the _Ecossaise_ was still flourishing. + +'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after galloping twenty +times to the end of the room, they stood at last, the first couple, 'why +isn't your friend dancing?' + +'Which friend?' + +Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + +'He never dances,' answered Kister. + +'Why did he come then?' + +Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the pleasure...' + +Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred into our +regiment, I think?' + +'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not long.' + +'Aren't you dull here?' + +'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the scenery!'... +Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. Masha listened to him, +without raising her head. Avdey Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, +looking indifferently at the dancers. + +'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + +'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + +'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added hurriedly. + +'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + +'They say every one's afraid of him.' + +Kister laughed. + +'And you?' + +'I'm a friend of his.' + +'Really?' + +'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. They +started and began galloping again right across the room. + +'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up to him +after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does nothing but ask +questions about you.' + +'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + +'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; only look at +her.' + +'Which of them is she?' + +Kister pointed out Masha. + +'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + +'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask another girl +to dance. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister had +mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned loudly. To arouse +curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: love he despised--in +words--but inwardly he was himself aware that it would be a hard and +difficult task for him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him +to win love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of indifference, +of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was unattractive and no longer +young; but on the other hand he enjoyed a terrible reputation--and +consequently he had every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, +unspoken enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he had +attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to get upon more +friendly terms with him, but he repelled their advances with exasperated +obstinacy; he knew that sentiment was not in his line (during tender +interviews, avowals, he first became awkward and vulgar, and, through +anger, rude to the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that +the two or three women with whom he had at different times been on a +friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the first moment of +closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse made haste to get away +from him... and so he had at last schooled himself to remain an enigma, +and to scorn what destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only +sort of scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, spontaneous, +that is to say good, demonstration of passion suited Lutchkov; he was +bound to keep a continual check on himself, even when he was angry. +Kister was the only person who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke +into laughter; the kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous +delight of sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from +Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering looks, like +a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, Lutchkov never left his +corner, scowled, glanced stealthily at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at +once threw an expression of indifference into his own. Masha danced +three times with Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with +confidence. She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not +at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + +A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up and down, +tapping with their heels, and tossing the epaulettes on their shoulders; +the civilians tapped with their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir +from his place, and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they +whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; his +neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before him with +downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov for the first +moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he carelessly took off his +sword, threw his hat on the floor, picked his way awkwardly among the +arm-chairs, took Masha by the hand, and went round the circle, with no +capering up and down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an +unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + +'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + +'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + +'Where's your place?' + +'Over there.' + +Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her and coolly +returned to his corner... but there was an agreeable stirring of the +spleen within him. + +Kister asked Masha for a dance. + +'What a strange person your friend is!' + +'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly twinkle of +his blue and kindly eyes. + +'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + +'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch laughed. + +'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook her head with +an important air. + +'Me not know? How's that?'... + +Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, +and walked away into the other room. + + +III + + +Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had not once been +at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them pretty often. Nenila +Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but it was not she that attracted +Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had +not yet talked himself out, he derived great pleasure from the +interchange of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in +the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a young man and +a young girl. + +One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him rapidly along +to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, close and sultry. Not a +cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky was so thick and dark on the horizon +that the eye mistook it for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had +erected for a summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the +steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. Nenila +Makarievna had every shutter closed from early morning. Kister walked +into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. The light lay in long lines on +the floor and in short, close streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila +Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. Perekatov settled +himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; Masha sat near the window at +her embroidery frame, Kister facing her. Masha, without opening her +frame, leaned lightly over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began +telling her something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for +something, looked from time to time towards her father, and all at once +stretched out her hand. + +'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more softly... papa's +asleep.' + +Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, with his +head hanging and his mouth a little open. + +'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + +'You will laugh at me.' + +'Oh, no, really!...' + +Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face remained +uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not without hesitation, +asked Kister why it was he never brought Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was +not the first time Masha had mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did +not speak. Masha glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + +'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + +'Oh, why not? of course.' + +'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on you.' + +'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to examine +the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of light lay on her +hair; 'no... but...' + +'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + +'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted her head, so +that the streak of light fell straight in her eyes; 'don't you see... +he...' + +'He interests you....' + +'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, turned her +head a little away and in that position went on talking. 'There is +something about him so... There, you're laughing at me,' she added +suddenly, glancing swiftly at Fyodor Fedoritch. + +Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + +'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha went on: 'I +know that you are a very'... (she nearly said great) 'good friend of +mine.' + +Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her hand to him; +Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers respectfully. + +'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again she propped +her elbows on the frame. + +'Queer?' + +'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha added +slily. + +'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined solemnly. 'They +don't know him in our regiment, they don't appreciate him, they only see +his external side. He's embittered, of course, and strange and +impatient, but his heart is good.' + +Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + +'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need to be afraid +of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... I'll tell him... Oh! +yes, I know what to say... Only you mustn't suppose, though, that I +would...' (Kister was embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... +'Besides, after all, of course you only... like him....' + +'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + +Kister looked mischievously at her. + +'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll bring him to +you....' + +'Oh, no....' + +'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange +everything.' + +'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her finger at +him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + +'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with surprise. This +doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. Masha and Kister began +discussing Schiller. + +Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt something like a +stir of envy within him... and was generously indignant with himself. +Nenila Makarievna came down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. +Mr. Perekatov made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then +explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog wagged its +tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. When at last the great +heat began to lessen, and an evening breeze blew up, the whole family +went out for a walk in the birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually +glancing at Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would +carry out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and happy +and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, plunged into a +rather high-flown discourse upon love in the abstract, and upon +friendship... but catching Nenila Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye +he, as abruptly, changed the subject. The sunset was brilliant and +glowing. A broad, level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. +Masha took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' +Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with his wife, +Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential little shrieks; Mr. +Perekatov's valet had the temerity to separate Nenila Makarievna from +her spouse; one of the servant-girls respectfully paired off with her +master; Fyodor Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he +regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, all +flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, passing her hand +over her hair. After supper, Kister took leave. + +It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He was +excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said at last, almost +aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them together; I will justify her +confidence in me.' Though there was as yet nothing to prove a definite +passion for Lutchkov on Masha's part, though, according to her own +account, he only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up +a complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. He +resolved to sacrifice his feelings--the more readily as 'so far I have +no other sentiment for her but sincere devotion,' thought he. Kister +really was capable of sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised +duty. He had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of +experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the truth of his +suppositions; he did not suspect that life is endlessly varied, and +never repeats itself. Little by little, Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself +into a state of ecstasy. He began musing with emotion on his mission. To +be the mediator between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered +only because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; to +bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, and then to +withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of his sacrifice, what a +splendid feat! In spite of the coolness of the night, the simple-hearted +dreamer's face burned.... + +Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a pipe. +Kister greeted him. + +'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some solemnity. + +'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + +'Yes. They are splendid people.' + +'Really?' + +'We talked about you.' + +'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + +'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + +'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + +'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + +'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + +'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a clever, sweet +and sensitive girl.' + +Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' + + +'But I assure you....' + +'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked sarcastically. + +'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + +'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + +'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + +'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my hearth,' +Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + +'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with vexation. + +With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more than +before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen Sie deutsch, Ivan +Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, 'don't be angry.' + +'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside him. 'You +know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) 'But there's one +thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... it's just that you won't make +friends with any one, that you will stick at home, and refuse all +intercourse with nice people. Why, there are nice people in the world, +hang it all! Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been +embittered, what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of +course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast me off +some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + +Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + +'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness knows what +some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister after a brief silence; +'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + +'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + +Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + +'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to reconcile you with +life. You will grow happier, blossom out... yes, blossom out. How I +shall rejoice then! Only you must let me dispose of you now and then, of +your time. To-day it's--what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on +Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the Perekatovs'. They +will be so glad to see you... and we shall have such a jolly time +there... and now let me have a pipe.' + +Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at the +ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and began drumming +on the panes with his fingers. + +'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + +'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + +'What did they say?' + +'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your acquaintance.' + +'Which of them's that?' + +'I say, what curiosity!' + +Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be saddled. + +'Where are you off to?' + +'The riding-school.' + +'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + +'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + +'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the street, +pondered, and sighed deeply. + + +IV + + +Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the arrival of +Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly returned to her own +room, and went up to the looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing +violently. A girl came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a +little water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. Mr. +Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa; +Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing his uniform, with his hat +on his knees; Kister was near him. They both got up on Masha's +entrance--Kister with his usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn +and constrained air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her +mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha recovered +herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To the questions +addressed to him by the lady of the house, he answered briefly, but +uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic people. Nenila Makarievna +suggested a stroll in the garden to her guests, but did not herself go +beyond the balcony. She did not consider it essential never to lose +sight of her daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a +fat reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in the +steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha talked more with +Kister, but did not dare to look either at him or at Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch did not address a remark to her; Kister's voice showed +agitation. He laughed and chattered a little over-much.... They reached +the stream. A couple of yards or so from the bank there was a +water-lily, which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, +encircled by its broad, round leaves. + +'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + +She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out his sword, +clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a willow, and, bending his +whole body over the water, cut off the head of the flower. 'It's deep +here, take care!' Masha cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his +sword brought the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, +picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted amazement at +Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't swim...' Lutchkov observed +abruptly. Masha did not like that remark. 'What made him say that?' she +wondered. + +Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the evening. +Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's soul; a dreamy +perplexity was reflected more than once in her face. She moved somehow +more slowly, she did not flush on meeting her mother's eyes--on the +contrary, she seemed to seek them, as though she would question her. +During the whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; +but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When they had +both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a few days, she +quietly went off to her own room, and for a long while, as it were, in +bewilderment she looked about her. Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed +and embraced her as usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say +something--and did not utter a word. She wanted to confess---she did not +know what. Her soul was gently wandering in dreams. On the little table +by her bedside the flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean +glass. Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her elbow, +and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white petals.... + +'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like the +Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + +Lutchkov did not answer. + +'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + +'Really, I don't know.' + +'Nonsense, come now!' + +'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not bad-looking.' + +'There, you see...' said Kister--and he said no more. + +Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that they should +call on the Perekatovs. + +Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor Fedoritch's absence +he would have had to keep up a conversation, and that he could not do, +and as far as possible avoided. + +On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more at her ease. +She was by now secretly glad that she had not disturbed her mamma by an +uninvited avowal. Before dinner, Avdey had offered to try a young horse, +not yet broken in, and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it +completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking and +laughing--and though he soon pulled himself up, yet he had succeeded in +making a momentary unpleasant impression on Masha. She could not yet be +sure herself what the feeling exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, +but everything she did not like in him she set down to the influence of +misfortune, of loneliness. + + +V + + +The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. Kister's +position became more and more painful. He did not regret his action... +no, but he desired at least to cut short the time of his trial. His +devotion to Masha increased daily; she too felt warmly towards him; but +to be nothing more than a go-between, a confidant, a friend even--it's a +dreary, thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great deal +about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of suffering... but to +Kister's warm and simple heart his sufferings were not a source of any +bliss whatever. At last, one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to +fetch him, and the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, +to the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he should +stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and angry... Kister +pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + +The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his comrades in +peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his spirit had not +'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet he certainly had toned down +a little. He could not have been called 'disillusioned' before--he had +seen and experienced almost nothing--and so it is not surprising that +Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched though; only his +spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for him were of a strange kind. +She almost never looked him straight in the face; she could not talk to +him.... When they happened to be left alone together, Masha felt +horribly awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt overawed +by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did not understand him, +and was unworthy of his confidence; miserably, drearily--but +continually--she thought of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, +soothed her and put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed +nor excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours together, +leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, looking +affectionately into his face, and laughing with his laughter--and she +rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov there was something enigmatic for the +young girl; she felt that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained +every effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So children +stare a long while into a deep well, till at last they make out at the +very bottom the still, black water. + +On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was at first +scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more than once fancied +that there existed some sort of misunderstanding between Lutchkov and +her, that he had not hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. +Lutchkov mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents expressed +their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at Avdey, and felt faint +with expectation. After dinner they were left alone; Masha did not know +what to say, she sat down to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly +and tremblingly over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting +for the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for music. +Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was at that time just +coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... Avdey Ivanovitch responded: +'Quite so,' 'by no means,' 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. +Masha played some brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. +Lutchkov listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, +his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped up at once +and closed the piano. She went up to the window, and for a long while +stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not stir from his seat, and still +remained silent. Impatience began to take the place of timidity in +Masha's soul. 'What is it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' +It was Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his +miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... 'It was +the devil's own notion to have anything to do with the wretched girl,' +he muttered to himself.... And all the while how easy it was to touch +Masha's heart at that instant! Whatever had been said by such an +extraordinary though eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would +have understood everything, have excused anything, have believed +anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of vexation were +standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be open, if I am really not +worthy of his confidence, why does he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps +it is that I don't set the right way to work to make him reveal +himself?'... And she turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, +so searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her glance, +and could not keep silence any longer.... + +'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I ought to +tell you something....' + +'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + +Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + +'I can't now...' + +'Why not?' + +'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + +'Why, we are alone now.' + +'Yes... but... here in the house....' + +Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, 'it's all +over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + +'I agree,' she said at last. + +'When then? Where?' + +Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + +'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the Long +Meadow?'... + +'Behind the mill?' + +Masha nodded. + +'What time?' + +'Wait...' + +She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she turned pale +and went quickly out of the room. + +A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his characteristic +politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, pressed his hand feelingly, +and begged him 'not to forget them'; then, having let out his guest, he +observed with dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to +shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn air to his +own room, with the same careworn air sat down on the sofa, and +guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + +'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her daughter, +on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite well?' + +'Yes, mamma.' + +Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's neck. + +'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that motherly +solicitude in which there is none the less audible a note of parental +authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy too. You're not well, +Masha.' + +'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of escape. + +'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on Masha's +forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + +Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + +Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender waist. + +'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she said +caressingly, not loosing her hands. + +Masha shuddered inwardly. + +'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + +Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's attention. + +'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + +But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and instead of +answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a laugh. + +'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + +'No, really, nothing.' + +'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short silence. 'I +know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's true, isn't it?' + +'Of course, mamma.' + +Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + +'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep anything from +me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + +'Oh yes, mamma.' + +And Masha hugged her. + +'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked about the +room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of one who feels that the +question asked is of no special importance; 'what were you talking about +with Avdey Ivanovitch to-day?' + +'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all sorts of +things....' + +'Do you like him?' + +'Oh yes, I like him.' + +'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how excited +you were?' + +Masha turned away and laughed. + +'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed +good-humouredly. + +Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held her tongue. + +'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer fish, but +still he's a nice man!' + +'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + +'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch wanted to +make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + +'What? Accept his present?' + +'Yes.' + +'Of course.' + +'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + +Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned back again. + +'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + +'What promise?' + +'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + +'I remember.' + +'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed musically.) 'Look +into my eyes.' + +Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + +'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt reassured. 'As if +she could deceive me!... How could I think of such a thing!... She's +still a perfect baby....' + +She went away.... + +'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + + +VI + + +Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his room. The +bully's face never expressed _one_ feeling; so it was now: feigned +indifference, coarse delight, consciousness of his own superiority... a +number of different emotions were playing over his features. + +'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question him. + +'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + +'Well? Are they all well?' + +'Of course, why not?' + +'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + +'Yes, I think so.' + +Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister looked +down and mused. + +'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring voice, +'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured fellow, but +you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for all that, if I may +venture to say so.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking +them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, +they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!' + +'I like and respect women, but------' + +'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not going to +argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain man.' + +'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just now,... are you +talking about women?' + +'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + +Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple heart!) +that Masha had been treating him badly; had been torturing him, perhaps, +as only women can.... + +'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + +Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + +'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he said, in a +drawling tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. 'No, only, look +here, Fedya,' he went on with the manner of a preceptor, 'I was only +going to point out that you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. +You believe me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a +little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things in your own +hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + +'Oh!' + +Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + +'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I shouldn't +have thought there was anything. There isn't anything, is there? And +here, I've a clandestine appointment for to-morrow.' + +Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement at Lutchkov. + +'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued serenely. +'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's only a bit of fun. +It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty little girl,... well, says I, +why not? Marriage, of course, I'm not going in for... but there, I like +to recall my young days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats--but +I may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the nightingales +together. Of course, it's really more in your line; but the wench has no +eyes, you see. I should have thought I wasn't worth looking at beside +you.' + +Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. His head +was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand over his face. +Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, screwed up his eyes, +stretched, and putting down Kister's emotion to jealousy, was almost +gasping with delight. But it was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; +he was wounded, not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse +carelessness, his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He +was still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for the +first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it was he had been +scheming for! This for which he had sacrificed his own inclinations! +Here it was, the blessed influence of love. + +'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he muttered at +last. + +'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant chuckle. + +Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even then; perhaps, +thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is 'humbugging' from old +habit... he has not yet found a new language to express new feelings. +And was there not in himself some other feeling lurking under his +indignation? Did not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply +because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps Lutchkov really +was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a thousand times no! That man in +love?... That man was loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his +nervous, cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, not +in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted friend the secret +of his love.... In overflowing happiness, in dumb rapture, with bright, +blissful tears in his eyes would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + +'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect it, and +now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? eh?' + +Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to the wall. +'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he whispered to himself. 'He +wouldn't understand me... so be it! He supposes none but evil feelings +in me--so be it!...' + +Avdey got up. + +'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I don't want to +be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... pleasant dreams!' + +And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + +Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With feverish +persistence he turned over and over and thought over and over the same +single idea--an occupation only too well known to unhappy lovers. + +'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she has flung +herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with me, with his friend, +to speak so disrespectfully, so offensively of her! In what way is she +to blame? How could any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced +girl? + +'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She has--yes, +she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he never tells a lie. But perhaps +it means nothing, a mere freak.... + +'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of insulting +her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for anything.... And wasn't it I +myself that praised him up and exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her +curiosity?... But who could have known this? Who could have foreseen +it?... + +'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... But, after +all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! What a lesson!' + +All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. 'Yes, I did +like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my liking cooled so +suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why did I ever like him? I +alone?' + +Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the very reason +that all the rest avoided him. But the good-hearted youth did not know +himself how great his good-heartedness was. + +'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? What right +have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in other people's love? +How do I know the nature of that love? Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, +no!' he said aloud, with irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out +his pillow, 'that man's stone.... + +'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious friend, +indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a sickening egoist I +am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I wish them happiness.... +Happiness! but he is laughing at her!... And why does he dye his +moustaches? I do, really, believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' +he repeated, as he fell asleep. + + +VII + + +The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When they met, +Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, too, found a change +in him, but neither spoke of it. The whole morning they both, contrary +to their habit, felt uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number +of hints and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but all +this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown away. Masha was +vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; she fancied that he +pronounced some words with intentional significance; but she was +conscious, too, of her own excitement, and did not trust her own +observations. 'If only he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what +she was thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that he +was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness and her +uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more afraid he was for her +the more impossible he found it to speak of Lutchkov; while Masha +obstinately refrained from uttering his name. It was a painful +experience for poor Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his +own feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She had, to +all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint flush stood in +patches on her pale face; her figure was faintly drooping; an +unconscious, weary smile never left her lips; now and then a shiver ran +over her white shoulders; a soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and +quickly faded away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and +possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in her mother's +presence Masha was armed _jusqu'aux dents,_ as the French say, and +she did not betray herself at all. So passed the whole morning. + +'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + +Masha turned away. + +'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. 'Excuse me... +duties of the service...' + +Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, following +her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I don't want to be in the +way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, as he passed her, but he bowed down +and whispered instead: 'Be happy... farewell... take care of +yourself...' and was gone. + +Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then felt +panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting her? Love or +curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity alone was enough to +ruin Eve. + + +VIII + + +Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground on the right +of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile from the Perekatovs' +property. The left bank, completely covered by thick young oak bushes, +rose steeply up over the stream, which was almost overgrown with willow +bushes, except for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild +ducks. Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long Meadow, +began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here and there with old +birch-trees, nut bushes, and guelder-roses. + +The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the distance, +sounding louder or softer according to the wind. The seignorial drove of +horses was lazily wandering about the meadows; a shepherd walked, +humming a tune, after a flock of greedy and timorous sheep; the +sheepdogs, from boredom, were running after the crows. Lutchkov walked +up and down in the copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near +by, more than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of the +mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered and shy, as +usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt wrathful with her and +annoyed with himself... but his excitement smothered his annoyance. He +stopped at last before a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip +switching off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + +He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces from him +stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a hat, but with no +gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily tied kerchief round her neck. +She dropped her eyes instantly, and softly nodded.... + +Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + +'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + +'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I +usually walk here in the evening... and you...' + +But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her +innocent deception. + +'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, 'you yourself +suggested...' + +'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you +wanted...' Her voice died away. + +Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + +'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not +used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, +I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....' + +'Speak.' + +'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long +while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...' + +Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence. + +'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no +changing one's destiny...' + +'How can one know?...' + +'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!' + +It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for +Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + +'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; +'some even too kind....' + +'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your +friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?' + +'No.... What do you want to say?' + +'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully +charming....' + +'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching +with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went +on--'look, what a view!' + +She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and +flushed red with the sunset. + +Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov +began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha.... + +'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little +head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which +is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls. + +'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's +pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine +sentiments are not in my line.' + +Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief silence +followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + +'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, though! Come, +more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in a fairly resolute voice. + +Masha turned to him. + +'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my side know +what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so to say,... amiably +disposed towards my person?' + +'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do you know, +Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's not always easy to +give a direct answer to a direct question.' + +'Still...' + +'But what is it to you?' + +'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + +'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?' +said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you have killed more than +one man?' + +'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his +moustaches. + +Masha looked intently at him. + +'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood had caught +fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had +been moving before his eyes. + +'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, 'you +know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for.... You've +been so kind.... You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for....' + +Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced sideways at +Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense you do talk,' and gave +him the flower. + +Avdey seized her hand. + +'And so you love me!' he cried. + +Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest +idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure +herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was +forestalling her, forcing her to speak out--he must be misunderstanding +her then.... This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. +She had never expected such a speedy _denouement._... Masha, like +an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: 'Can it be that +Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a +respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with +him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting +to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + +Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough moustaches on +her cheek.... + +'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other happiness on +earth!' + +Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, +stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly +confused. + +'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect really...' + +Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A disagreeable smile +twisted his lips... patches of red came out on his face.... + +'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great matter.... +Why, we understand each other... and so....' + +Masha did not speak. + +'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing but...' Lutchkov +stretched out his hand to her. + +Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, sinking with +terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, 'Taniusha!' + +From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... Avdey was +completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence of her hand-maiden, +Masha did not stir. But the bully was shaking all over with rage; his +eyes were half closed; he clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + +'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick--no denying that!' he cried out. + +Masha was petrified. + +'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya Sergievna! +Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! Nowadays young ladies +see further than old men. So this is all your love amounts to!' + +'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to speak about +love... what love?' + +'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what next!' He felt +he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but he could not restrain +himself. + +'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to your request, +relying upon your _delicatesse_... but you don't know French... on +your courtesy, I mean....' + +Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + +'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very well that you +have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + +'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + +'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut her short +peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + +'Mr. Lutchkov...' + +'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's trouble thrown +away! you don't impress me.' + +Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked away. + +'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd lad, your +tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after her. He had lost his +head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + +Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She felt light +at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. She felt as though she +had waked up from a troubled sleep, had stepped out of a dark room into +air and sunshine.... Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless +frenzy he broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously +drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at the reins +that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a quarter of an hour and +almost expired the same night. + +Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next morning he +went round himself to see him. The orderly informed Fyodor Fedoritch +that his master was lying down and had given orders that he would see no +one. 'He won't see me even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked +twice up and down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and +then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + +'From whom?' + +'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + +Kister's hands began to tremble. + +'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to wait for +your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + +'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,--I want very, very much to see you. +Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I entreat you, +for the sake of our old friendship. If only you knew... but you +shall know everything. Good-bye for a little while,--eh? + +MARIE. + +'P.S.--Be sure to come to-morrow.' + + +'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's countenance, +and went out without uttering a word. + +'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a drink +with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the postillion. + + +IX + + +Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet Kister, when he +came into the drawing-room, she pressed his hand so warmly and +affectionately, that his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight +seemed rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however, say a single word, +and she promptly left the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the +sofa, playing patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not +yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the conversation round +from all extraneous topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a +plaid silk sash, Kister's favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all +laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up spirit and +described one of the merriest pranks of his youthful days, hiding his +head from his wife like an ostrich, as he told the story. + +'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to Kister after +dinner with that note of affectionate authority in her voice which is, +as it were, conscious that you will gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk +to you about something very, very important,' she added with enchanting +solemnity, as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, +_maman_?' + +'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + +'But we are not going into the garden.' + +'Where then?' + +'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + +'Take Taniusha with you.' + +'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly as a bird +from the room. + +A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the Long +Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of bread to her +favourite cow, patted it on the head and made Kister stroke it. Masha +was in great good humour and chatted merrily. Kister responded +willingly, though he awaited explanations with impatience.... Taniusha +walked behind at a respectful distance, only from time to time stealing +a sly glance at her young lady. + +'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + +'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + +'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + +'You were out of humour... that was all.' + +'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. That's +right.... You were out of humour too.' + +'Yes, I was too.' + +'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + +'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + +'And do you know why? Because...' + +Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because I am with +you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + +Kister softly pressed her hand. + +'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an undertone. + +'What about?' + +'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + +'I was waiting for...' + +'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him +impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, because you +are incapable... _parceque vous avez de la delicatesse_. One can +say that to you: you understand French.' + +Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least understand +Masha. + +'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha admired it, +and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from his arm, with an anxious +smile she began carefully sticking the tender stalk in the buttonhole of +Kister's coat. Her slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at +the fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though to say +'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of her gloves. + +Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha became +suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent altogether. They came +to the very place where Lutchkov had waited for her. The trampled grass +had not yet grown straight again; the broken sapling had not yet +withered, its little leaves were only just beginning to curl up and +fade. Masha stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + +'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about your +friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + +Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + +'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I made... an +appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + +'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + +'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before yesterday... Mr. +Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of his _conquest_.' + +Kister was about to answer.... + +'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know he's your +friend. You are capable of taking his part. You knew, Kister, you +knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me from acting so stupidly? Why +didn't you box my ears, as if I were a child? You knew... and didn't you +care?' + +'But what right had I...' + +'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your friend.... I'm +ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That man behaved to me yesterday, +as if...' + +Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + +'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, don't be +angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of yesterday's +explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' added Masha. 'What do you +suppose I am telling you about it for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? +Nonsense! I've forgotten about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good +friend.... I want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... +your advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease with +you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + +'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with difficulty; +'but...' + +'Why _but_? Aren't you ashamed to say _but_? He is coarse, +_and_ clumsy, _and_ ill-natured, _and_ conceited.... Do +you hear?--_and_, not _but_.' + +'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya Sergievna,' Kister +observed mournfully. + +'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like this when +they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may think what you like of +me... but if you imagine I am flirting with you to-day from pique, +well... well...' (tears stood in her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + +'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + +'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not open with +you, don't you see right through me?' + +'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a smile, seeing +with what anxious insistence she tried to catch his eyes. 'But tell me, +what induced you to arrange to meet Lutchkov?' + +'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to me alone. I +fancied he had never had time, never had an opportunity to speak freely. +He has spoken freely now! Do you know, he may be an extraordinary man, +but he's a fool, really.... He doesn't know how to put two words +together. He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him +much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. I hardly +ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, certainly, but I +imagined that a man who was worthy of being your friend...' + +'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister interposed. + +'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + +'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a friend.... +Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' Kister added hurriedly. + +Masha looked intently into his face. + +'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. It's a +lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. For several months +past I have almost every day seen a man who is good, clever, bright, +friendly who...' (Masha was confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, +cared... a little... for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on +quickly, 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + +She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + +Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept repeating to +himself. + +'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + +Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with unshed tears. + +'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + +Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha at once +clutched it warmly. + +'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you answer?' + +'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + +'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You understand me? +You're not laughing at a girl who made an appointment only yesterday +with one man, and to-day is talking to another, as I am talking to +you.... You're not laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed +crimson, she clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + +'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love you... I love +you,' he cried. + +Masha hid her face. + +'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + + +X + + +Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in his room, +writing the following letter to his mother:-- + +Dearest Mother!--I make haste to share my great happiness with you; I am +going to get married. This news will probably only surprise you from my +not having, in my previous letters, even hinted at so important a change +in my life--and you know that I am used to sharing all my feelings, my +joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for silence are not easy to +explain to you. To begin with, I did not know till lately that I was +loved; and on my own side too, it is only lately that I have realised +myself all the strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters +from here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am +engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly convinced that we +shall both be happy. My feeling for her is not a fleeting passion, but a +deep and genuine emotion, in which friendship is mingled with love. Her +bright, gentle disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is +well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you could only +see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I need hardly say she is +a hundred times better-looking than her portrait. Masha loves you +already, like a daughter, and is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. +I mean to retire, to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. +Mr. Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent +condition. You see that even from the material point of view, you cannot +but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come to Moscow and to you. +Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My own dearest mother, how happy I +am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + +Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the window, lighted +a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the table. He took out a small +sheet of notepaper, carefully dipped his pen into the ink, but for a +long while he did not begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes +to the ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his mind, +and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had composed the following: + +'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,--Since the day of your last visit (that is, for +three weeks) you have sent me no message, have not said a word to me, +and have seemed to avoid meeting me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to +act as he pleases; you have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I +do not, believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any way. +It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon any one +whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not to blame in the +matter. I am writing to you now from a feeling of duty. I have made an +offer to Marya Sergievna Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and +also by her parents. I inform _you_ of this fact--directly and +immediately--to avoid any kind of misapprehension or suspicion. I +frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel great concern about the +good opinion of a man who himself shows so little concern for the +opinions and feelings of other people, and I am writing to you solely +because I do not care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to +be acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and will not +ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. Addressing you for +the last time, I cannot, for the sake of our old friendship, refrain +from wishing you all good things possible on earth.--I remain, +sincerely, your obedient servant, Fyodor Kister.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed his +uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. Light-hearted and +happy, he walked up and down his little room humming, even gave two +little skips in the air, twisted a book of songs into a roll, and was +tying it up with blue ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a +coat without epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. +Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, without +finishing the bow he was tying. + +'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a calm voice. + +Kister fired up. + +'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say good-morning +when they come into another man's room.' + +'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. +'Good-morning.' + +'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to marry Miss +Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + +'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I congratulate +you.' + +'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I must be +starting.' + +'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, Fyodor +Fedoritch.' + +'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured fellow. 'I +must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your behaviour to me has +been so strange, and I think, on my side, I have not deserved... at +least, I had no reason to expect... But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you +like a pipe?' + +Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible in his +movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his eyebrows. + +'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you keep it up +with me so long?...' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you were just +such another as all the rest of us sinners all the while?' + +'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some way?...' + +'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak more plainly. +Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you had a liking for the +Perekatov girl all along, or is it a case of sudden passion?' + +'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my relations +with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + +'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to believe that +you've been humbugging me.' + +Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + +'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + +'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark forest, +and the best side of goods is always turned uppermost. I know you read +German poetry with great feeling and even with tears in your eyes; I +know that you've hung various maps on your walls; I know you keep your +person clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + +Kister began to lose his temper. + +'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object of your +visit? You have sent no message to me for three weeks, and now you come +to me, apparently with the intention of jeering at me. I am not a boy, +sir, and I do not allow any one...' + +'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor Fedoritch, +who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the other way; I've come to +you with a most humble request, that is, that you'd do me the favour to +explain your behaviour to me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who +forced me to make the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you +assure your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into +flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous Marya +Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to _you_ I'm indebted +for that final agreeable scene, of which you have doubtless been +informed in befitting fashion? An engaged girl, of course, tells her +betrothed of everything, especially of her _innocent_ indiscretions. +How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been made such a +terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest in my "blossoming out," +you know!' + +Kister walked up and down the room. + +'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you really--joking +apart--are convinced of what you say, which I confess I don't believe, +then let me tell you, it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an +insulting construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to +justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your memory.' + +'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya Sergievna. +Besides that, let me ask you another question: Weren't you at the +Perekatovs' after a certain conversation with me, after that evening +when I like a fool chattered to you, thinking you my greatest friend, of +the meeting she'd arranged?' + +'What! you suspect me...' + +'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with cutting +iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I have the weakness +to suppose that other men are no better than I am.' + +'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men are better +than you.' + +'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; 'but...' + +'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly infuriated, +'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... of... But these +explanations are leading to nothing, I see.... Think what you choose of +me, and act as you think best.' + +'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're beginning to +speak plainly.' + +'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + +'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on with an +affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, certainly. A man has been +acting, acting a part, and no one has recognised him as a humbug; and +all of a sudden...' + +'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, 'that it +was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I should feel sorry for +you; I could excuse you.... But in your abuse, in your false charges, I +hear nothing but the shriek of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy +for you.... You have deserved what you've got.' + +'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. 'Pride,' he +went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, has been mortified +intensely and insufferably. But who isn't proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm +proud, and for instance, I permit no one to feel sorry for me....' + +'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an expression, +sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you yourself have broken. I must +beg you to behave with me as with a complete outsider.' + +'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. 'Understand me; I +have sent you no message, and have not been to see you because I was +sorry for you; you must allow me to be sorry for you, since you 're +sorry for me!... I didn't want to put you in a false position, to make +your conscience prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you +could remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you were +only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied superiority...' + +Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + +'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. 'I must own +I don't see why you've been pleased to come to me.' + +'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked inquiringly. + +'I certainly don't see why.' + +'N--o?' + +'No, I tell you...' + +'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it of a fellow +of your intelligence!' + +'Come, speak plainly...' + +'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his feet, 'I +have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you understand now? I want to +fight you. Ah! you thought you could get rid of me like that! Why, +didn't you know the sort of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + +'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept your +challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + +'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to let his +victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll own to put a +bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance to-morrow.' + +'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister rejoined +contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of you.' + +'Oh, to be sure, _delicatesse_!... Ah, Marya Sergievna, I don't +know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on his cap. 'Till we meet again, +Fyodor Fedoritch!' + +He bowed and walked out. + +Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face burned, his +breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor anger; but it sickened +him to think what this man really was that he had once looked upon as a +friend. The idea of the duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to +him.... Once get free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, +and then to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I shall +be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed to smile to him, +to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be killed! not I!' he repeated +with a serene smile. On the table lay the letter to his mother.... He +felt a momentary pang at his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending +it off. There was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of +which a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all the +possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and himself in all +the agonies of misery and parting, and looked forward to the future with +hope. He swore to himself not to kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly +drawn to Masha. He paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and +directly after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening Kister +was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + +Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of evil, and +flirted charmingly with him. At first her unconsciousness wounded him, +then he took Masha's very unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was +rejoiced and reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him +every day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than passion. +Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated desires, and she +renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila Makarievna loved Kister +like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual followed his wife's lead. + +'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the hall and +gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and tenderly kissed her +hands. + +'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till we meet.' + +But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' house, he stood +up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness began looking for the +lighted windows.... All in the house was dark as in the tomb. + + +XI + + +Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an old major +of tried merit, came for him. The good old man growled to himself, bit +his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey Ivanovitch everything +unpleasant.... The carriage was brought to the door. Kister handed the +major two letters, one for his mother, the other for Masha. + +'What's this for?' + +'Well, one can never tell...' + +'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + +'Any way it's better...' + +The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side pocket of +his coat. + +'Let us start.' + +They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the village of +Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his former friend, the +perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, the birds were twittering +peacefully; not far from the copse a peasant was tilling the ground. +While the seconds were marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, +examining and loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at +one another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, swinging a +flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, with folded arms and +scowling brow. The decisive moment arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister +went rapidly towards the barrier, but he had not gone five steps before +Avdey fired, Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His +head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack on the +grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it possible?' whispered the +dying man. + +Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and sunken face +was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He looked at the adjutant +and the major, bent his head like a guilty man, got on his horse without +a word, and rode slowly straight to the colonel's quarters. + +Masha... is living to this day. + + + + + + +THREE PORTRAITS + + +'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of life in the +country. I knew a country gentleman of the Vologodsky district, who used +on every suitable occasion to repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I +have no neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that happy +mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the most thickly +peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by a vast number of dear +neighbours, from highly respectable and highly respected country +gentlemen, attired in ample frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, +down to regular loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a +so-called shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I +chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He had served in +the army, had retired and settled for good and all in the country. +According to his story, he had served for two years in the B------ +regiment. But I am totally unable to comprehend how that man could have +performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but even for two +days. He was born 'for a life of peace and country calm,' that is to +say, for lazy, careless vegetation, which, I note parenthetically, is +not without great and inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair +property, and without giving too much thought to its management, spent +about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent cook--my +friend was fond of good fare--and ordered too from Moscow all the newest +French books and magazines. In Russian he read nothing but the reports +of his bailiff, and that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not +go out shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till dinner-time +and at dinner. He would look through plans of some sort, or go round to +the stables or to the threshing barn, and joke with the peasant women, +who, to be sure, in his presence wielded their flails in leisurely +fashion. After dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the +looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed of two or +three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and unconcernedly with +one of them, play blind-man's-buff with them, return home rather late +and promptly fall into a heroic sleep. He could never be bored, for he +never gave himself up to complete inactivity; and in the choice of +occupations he was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child +with the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no particular +attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced to get a glimpse of +the track of a wolf or a fox, he would let his horse go at full gallop +over such ravines that to this day I cannot understand how it was he did +not break his neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of +persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know their own +value, that under their appearance of indifference strong and violent +passions lie concealed. But he would have laughed in one's face if he +could have guessed that one cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed +I must own I believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in +youth some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so sweetly +called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long ago died out. He was +rather stout and enjoyed superb health. In our day one cannot help +liking people who think little about themselves, because they are +exceedingly rare... and my friend had almost forgotten his own +personality. I fancy, though, that I have said too much about him +already, and my prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero +of my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + +One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, gathered +together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the whole morning out, had +run down a couple of foxes and a number of hares, and had returned home +in that supremely agreeable frame of mind which comes over every +well-regulated person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. +The wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging the +bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's house. We +reached the house, got off our horses.... On the steps I stood still and +looked round: long storm-clouds were creeping heavily over the grey sky; +a dark-brown bush was writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; +the yellow grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; +flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes among the +bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among the light brittle +twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped whistling. In the village +there was the hoarse barking of dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was +with a genuine sense of comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The +shutters were closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of +dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, there were +eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a fire glowed cheerfully +on the hearth, and an old and very stately-looking butler, with a huge +bald head, wearing an English dress, stood before another table on which +was pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by light +savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by another venerable man, +engaged in icing champagne--'according to the strictest rules of the +art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly pleasant. +We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's shooting, and +recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' After dining pretty +heartily, we settled comfortably into ample arm-chairs round the fire; a +huge silver bowl made its appearance on the table, and in a few minutes +the white flame of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable +intention 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some taste; +he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal an influence on +the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light of a lamp, and so he gave +orders that only two candles should be left in the room. Strange +half-shadows quivered on the walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the +fire in the hearth and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly +agreeable sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat +boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + +Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin proverb +says, like everything in the world. Our conversation that evening was +particularly many-sided and lively. From details it passed to rather +serious general questions, and lightly and casually came back to the +daily incidents of life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all +sank into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is flying +over. + +I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my tongue because +my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three dusty portraits in black +wooden frames. The colours were rubbed and cracked in places, but one +could still make out the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a +young woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up high, in +the style of the eighties of last century. On her right, upon a +perfectly black background, there stood out the full, round face of a +good-natured country gentleman of five-and-twenty, with a broad, low +brow, a thick nose, and a good-humoured smile. The French powdered +coiffure was utterly out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic +face. The artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson +colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding some +unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was the work of some +other more skilful hand, represented a man of thirty, in the green +uniform, with red facings, of the time of Catherine, in a white shirt, +with a fine cambric cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the +other lay on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of +insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew together over +the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely discernible lips played +an evil smile. + +'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch asked me. + +'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + +'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three persons?' + +'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + +Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the portraits, and +in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, +'this lady was the adopted child of my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna +N.N., called Lutchinov, who died forty years ago unmarried. This +gentleman,' he pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a +lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, expired by the +will of God in the year seventeen hundred and ninety. And this +gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of being related, is a certain +Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... +Kindly take note of the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the +heart should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, would +be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, 'he went on in +his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm yourselves with patience, +and listen.' + +Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not proud of +my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all fearful prodigals. Though +that reproach cannot indeed be made against my great-grandfather, Ivan +Andreevitch Lutchinov; on the contrary, he had the character of being +excessively careful, even miserly--at any rate, in the latter years of +his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived through the reign +of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and had by his wife, my +great-grandmother, four children, three sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, +my grandfather, and one daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch +took into his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and +destitute orphan--Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just now. My +great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his existence, for they +used (when nothing particularly unlucky occurred) to send him a trifling +rent, but they had never seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, +deprived of the bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing +exceedingly, when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family +coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's hut. The +peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, ran up and saw their +master and mistress and all their young ones, except the eldest, +Vassily, who was left behind in Petersburg. From that memorable day down +to the very day of his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. +He built himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure of +conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, and began +living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan Andreevitch was a man of +immense height, thin, silent, and very deliberate in all his movements. +He never wore a dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen +him without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his hands +clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. Every day he +used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, which he had planted with +his own hand; and before his death he had the pleasure of enjoying the +shade of those trees. Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his +words; a proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable fact +that in the course of twenty years he had not said a single word to his +wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with Anna Pavlovna altogether were of +a very curious sort. She directed the whole management of the household; +at dinner she always sat beside her husband--he would mercilessly have +chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word to her--and +yet he never spoke to her, never touched her hand. Anna Pavlovna was a +pale, broken-spirited woman, completely crushed. She prayed every day on +her knees in church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they +had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, lived on very +cordial terms with one another. They did say too that Anna Pavlovna had +been untrue to her matrimonial vows; that her conduct had come to her +husband's knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, +even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last illness, she +never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. One night, Anna +Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's bedroom--he suffered from +sleeplessness--a lamp was burning before the holy picture. My +grandfather's servant, Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words +later, went out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and +sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, tried to +say something--stretched out her hands... Ivan Andreevitch looked at +her, and in a faint voice, but resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant +went in; Anna Pavlovna hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her +place. + +Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. They grew up +in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan Andreevitch's strange +treatment of his wife. They all loved Anna Pavlovna passionately, but +did not dare to show their love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof +from them.... You remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his +death he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is the +force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan Ivanovitch, were +simple, good-hearted people, quiet and depressed. My grand'tante Natalia +married, as you are aware, a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life +she cherished an unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But +their brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that Ivan +Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then twelve. His father +confided him to the care of a distant kinsman, a man no longer young, a +bachelor, and a terrible Voltairean. + +Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but was +well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French excellently, and was +renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. He was considered one of the +most brilliant young men of the beginning of the reign of Catherine. My +father used often to tell me that he had known more than one old lady +who could not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt +emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional strength +of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and daring, reserved in +the extreme, and--according to the testimony of all his +contemporaries--fascinatingly, captivatingly attractive. He had no +conscience, no heart, no principle, though no one could have called him +positively a bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his +vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When Vassily +Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling affectionately, when +he wanted to fascinate any one, they say it was impossible to resist him; +and even people, thoroughly convinced of the coldness and hardness of +his heart, were more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his +personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, and made +other people, too, work for his advantage; and he was always successful +in everything, because he never lost his head, never disdained using +flattery as a means, and well understood how to use it. + +Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, he came for +a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant officer of the Guards, +and in that time succeeded positively in turning the head of the grim +old man, his father. Strange to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with +enjoyment to his son's stories of some of his _conquests_. His +brothers were speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of +a higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder of him +than any of her other children who were so sincerely devoted to her. + +Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily to visit his +people, but also with the second object of getting as much money as +possible from his father. He lived sumptuously in the glare of publicity +in Petersburg, and had made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get +round his father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on +this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his other +children together during twenty years spent under his roof, Vassily +followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what you can!' + +Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such another tall, +thin, taciturn person as his master. They say that this man Yuditch was +partly responsible for Ivan Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna +Pavlovna; they say he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue +with one of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely Yuditch +deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would be difficult to +conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory is held in veneration by +all my house-serfs to this day. My great-grandfather put unbounded +confidence in Yuditch. In those days landowners used to have money, but +did not put it into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in +chests, under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his +money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the head of his +bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to Yuditch. Every evening as +he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch used to bid him open the coffer in his +presence, used to tap in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a +stick, and every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and +carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these doings, and +burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred coffer. In the course of +five or six days he had _softened_ Yuditch, that is, he had worked +on the old man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young +master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on a careworn +and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer Yuditch's questions, +and at last told him that he had lost at play, and should make an end of +himself if he could not get money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, +flung himself on his knees before him, begged him to think of God, not +to be his own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering +a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously knocking at +his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway Yuditch pale and +trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily took in the whole position +at a glance. At first, for a long while, he refused to take it. With +tears Yuditch repeated, 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... +Vassily at last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to +Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of crockery. He +reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags with his stick, and not +noticing the hardly perceptible difference in the sound, and by Saturday +he hoped to obtain and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, +so he did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by Saturday +Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to win the sum from a +rich neighbour at cards, and instead of that, he lost it all. Meantime, +Saturday had come; it came at last to the turn of the bags filled with +broken crocks. Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + +'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + +'You stole the money?' + +'No, sir.' + +'Then some one took the key from you?' + +'I didn't give the key to any one.' + +'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + +'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + +'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So you're deceiving +me! For the last time I tell you--confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and +folded his hands behind his back. + +'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. 'A stick!' + +'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + +'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a thief! O +Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + +'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' Yuditch +articulated with effort. + +'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your service!' + +The servants came in. + +'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan Andreevitch's lips were +white and twitching. He walked up and down the room like a wild beast in +a small cage. + +The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + +'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to undertake him +myself, eh?' + +Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + +'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last time I tell +you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + +'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + +'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood be on my +head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The flogging began.... The door +suddenly opened, and Vassily came in. He was almost paler than his +father, his hands were shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare +a row of even, white teeth. + +'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I took the +money.' + +The servants stopped. + +'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + +'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily Ivanovitch the key +of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily Ivanovitch! why does your honour +trouble?' + +'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, Vassily, +thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you anyway. Why didn't +you tell me all about it directly? Hey, you there! why are you standing +still? do you too resist my authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, +my pretty gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + +The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + +'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The men did not +heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon them.... They stepped +back. + +'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his stick, he +approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched at the handle of his +sword, and bared it to half its length. Every one was trembling. Anna +Pavlovna, attracted by the noise, showed herself at the door, pale and +scared. + +A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. He tottered, +dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an arm-chair, hiding his face +in both hands. No one stirred, all stood rooted to the spot, Vassily +like the rest. He clutched the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his +eyes glittered with a weary, evil light.... + +'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in a low +voice, not taking his hands from his face. + +The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, then +suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his mother's hand... +and two hours later he had left the place. He went back to Petersburg. + +In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the steps of the +house serfs' hut. The servants were all round him, sympathising with him +and bitterly reproaching their young master. + +'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... why do you +abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare say is not very happy at +his audacity....' + +In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father again. +Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably with such a load of +sorrow on his heart as God grant none of us may ever know. Vassily +Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into the world, enjoyed himself in his own +way, and squandered money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I +cannot tell for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart +and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was passionately +attached to him and aided him in all his numerous manoeuvres. I do not +intend to relate in detail all the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was +possessed of such unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such +inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I must own I can +understand the complete sway that unprincipled person exercised even +over the noblest natures. + +Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, Vassily +Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He fought a duel, +seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced to leave the capital; he +was banished to his estate, and forbidden to leave it. Vassily +Ivanovitch was thirty years old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with +what feelings he left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used +to, and came into the country. They say that he got out of the hooded +cart several times on the road, flung himself face downwards in the snow +and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would have known him as the gay and +charming Vassily Ivanovitch they had seen before. He did not talk to any +one; went out shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid +caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in his ridicule +of his brothers, and of their wives (they were both married by that +time).... + +I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga Ivanovna. She +had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; she all but died on the +road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, as they say, in the fear of God and +her betters. It must be admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna +both treated her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint +spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily Ivanovitch. While +Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not dare even to wonder about the +cause of the strange, dumb feud between their parents, Olga was from her +earliest years disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like +Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. She was +devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old Lutchinov she +detested, and more than once, sitting at table, she shot such black +looks at him, that even the servant handing the dishes felt +uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never noticed these glances, for he +never took the slightest notice of his family. + +At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, but some bold +questions of Olga's forced her to complete silence. The children of Ivan +Andreevitch adored Olga, and the old lady too was fond of her, but not +with a very ardent affection. + +Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and every strong +feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear a proof of Vassily's +captivating charm as that he had made even his mother love him +passionately. Demonstrations of tenderness on the part of children were +not in the spirit of the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that +Olga did not dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna +Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said good-night to her. +Twenty years later, Russian girls began to read romances of the class of +_The Adventures of Marquis Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the +Cottage in the Forest_; they began to play the clavichord and to sing +songs in the style of the once very well-known: + + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. + + +But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born in 1757) +our country beauties had no notion of such accomplishments. It is +difficult for us now to form a clear conception of the Russian miss of +those days. We can indeed judge from our grandmothers of the degree of +culture of girls of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is +one to distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of their +long lives from what they were in the days of their youth? + +Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong Russian accent: +in her day there was as yet no talk of French emigrants. In fact, with +all her fine qualities, she was still pretty much of a savage, and I +dare say in the simplicity of her heart, she had more than once +chastised some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + +Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna had been +betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch Rogatchov, a very +good-natured and straightforward fellow. Nature had forgotten to put any +spice of ill-temper into his composition. His own serfs did not obey +him, and would sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and +leave poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could trouble the +peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been stout and indolent, +had never been in the government service, and was fond of going to +church and singing in the choir. Look, gentlemen, at this round, +good-natured face; glance at this mild, beaming smile... don't you +really feel it reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals +to drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with him his +Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every possible way. +Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on Ivan Andreevitch on his +own account, fell in love with Olga Ivanovna, and offered her his hand +and heart--not to her personally, but to her benefactors. Her +benefactors gave their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga +Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the words of my +grandmother, 'such refinements were not the thing.' Olga soon got used +to her betrothed, however; it was impossible not to feel fond of such a +gentle and amiable creature. Rogatchov had received no education +whatever; his French consisted of the one word _bonjour_, and he +secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose person had +taught him the following lines, as a French song: 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! +Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa--I adore you--me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed +song he always used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His +father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore a long +nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded with a smile. +From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, +father and son, had been tremendously busy. They had been having their +house entirely transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a +friendly way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had +not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put off the +wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan Andreevitch died; the +wedding was deferred till the following spring. In the winter Vassily +Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov was presented to him; he received him +coldly and contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by +his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a leaf at the +very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled nervously. Vassily once +almost annihilated him altogether--by making him a bet, that he, +Rogatchov, was not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost +cried with, embarrassment, but--actually!--a smile, a stupid, nervous +smile refused to leave his perspiring face! Vassily toyed deliberately +with the ends of his neckerchief, and looked at him with supreme +contempt. Pavel Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, +and after an interval of a few days--'for the sake of greater +formality'--he sallied off to Lutchinovka with the object of +'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent to the halls of his +ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed all over the countryside for his +eloquence--that is to say, for his capacity for enunciating without +faltering a rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of +bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not sustain his +reputation; he was even more disconcerted than his son, Pavel +Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite inarticulate, and though he +had never been used to taking vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to +carry things off'--he found Vassily at lunch,--tried at least to clear +his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in making the +slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel Afanasievitch whispered to his +parent, 'Well, father?' Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a +whisper, 'Don't speak of it!' + +The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at Lutchinovka. Though +indeed they were not the only people intimidated by Vassily; he awakened +in his own brothers, in their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an +instinctive feeling of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid +him in every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but +apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to them. Suddenly, +at the beginning of the spring, he became once more the charming, +attractive person they had known of old... + +The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's unexpected +visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in particular, was fairly +disconcerted at the sight of Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very +quickly vanished. Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. +He took young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new +buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, with his own +hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, asked to be shown Afanasey +Lukitch's stud horses, himself trotted them out on a halter, and +altogether so affected the good-hearted children of the steppes by his +gracious affability that they both embraced him more than once. At home, +too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to turn every one's +head just as before. He contrived all sorts of laughable games, got hold +of musicians, invited the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, +told the old ladies the scandals of the town in the most amusing way, +flirted a little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, +fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every thing and +every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the Lutchinovs was suddenly +converted into a noisy, brilliant, enchanted palace of which the whole +countryside was talking. This sudden transformation surprised many and +delighted all. All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. +Sagacious persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been +crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw chances of +returning to the capital... but the true cause of Vassily Ivanovitch's +metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + +Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her beauty consisted +rather in the extraordinary softness and freshness of her shape, in the +quiet grace of her movements than in the strict regularity of her +features. Nature had bestowed on her a certain independence; her +bringing up--she had grown up without father or mother--had developed in +her reserve and determination. Olga did not belong to the class of quiet +and tame-spirited young ladies; but only one feeling had reached its +full possibilities in her as yet--hatred for her benefactor. Other more +feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's heart with +abnormal and painful violence... but she had not the cold pride, nor the +intense strength of will, nor the self-centred egoism, without which any +passion passes quickly away. + +The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive natures is +sometimes extremely violent; but they give way very quickly, especially +when it is a question of relentless conformity with accepted principles; +they are afraid of consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly +confess, women of that sort always make the strongest impression on me. +... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. Rubbish! +rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; nothing in the world +makes a strong impression on you, my dear fellow!) + +Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in race. Olga +Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her foster sister, Natalia. +How did this blood show itself, do you ask? Why, in everything; in the +lines of her hands, in her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her +glance, in her carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In +all these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am bound to +admit that the--how can one express it?--_la distinction_, which +had fallen to Olga Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's +notice had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the wilds, +she not only caught his attention, she was positively the sole cause of +the transformation of which I have just been speaking. + +Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy life; he could +not but be bored in the country; his brothers were good-natured fellows, +but extremely limited people: he had nothing in common with them. His +sister, Natalia, with the assistance of her husband, had brought into +the world in the course of three years no less than four babies; between +her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to church, +prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. There remained only +Olga--a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... Vassily did not notice her at +first... indeed, who does notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from +charity in the house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, +Vassily was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off the +heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, which come out +first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon as they begin to grow +green. He was walking in the garden in front of the house; he lifted his +head, and caught sight of Olga Ivanovna. + +She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a tabby +kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, and with great +satisfaction held up her little nose into the rather hot spring +sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white morning gown, with short +sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, girlish shoulders and arms were a picture +of freshness and health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her +thick, soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was only +just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so charmingly; there +was such seductive negligence, such modesty in the restful pose of her +figure, free from corsets, that Vassily Ivanovitch (a great +connoisseur!) halted involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred +to him that Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive +ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very sweet and +charming woman. He stole up to the window, stretched up on tiptoe, and +imprinted a silent kiss on Olga Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little +below the elbow. + +Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the air and +leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a smile kept her by the +arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her ears; he began to rally her on her +alarm... invited her to come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became +suddenly conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than +the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + +The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was suddenly +happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love with Olga, no! the word +'love' is not to be used lightly.... He had found an occupation, had set +himself a task, and rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did +not even remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's +betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was fully aware +that it was not for her to be his wife.... Possibly there was passion to +excuse him--not a very elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a +fairly strong and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like +a boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very well what he +wanted and what he was striving for. + +Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in the shortest +time, any one however shy or prejudiced against him. Olga soon ceased to +be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch led her into a new world. He ordered +a clavichord for her, gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly +well on the flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with +her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head turned +completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew how to tell her of +what had been till then unknown to her, and to tell her in a language +she could understand. Olga little by little gained courage to express +all her feelings to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the +words she could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her +back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily busied himself +with her education from no disinterested desire to awaken and develop +her talents. He simply wanted to draw her a little closer to himself; +and he knew too that an innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more +easily seduced through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an +exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for he treated +her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, there was nothing +specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried all he could to work on her +imagination, and often in the evening she left his side with such a +whirl of new images, phrases and ideas in her head that she could not +sleep all night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning +cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went to the +window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark distance. Vassily +filled every moment of her life; she could not think of any one else. As +for Rogatchov, she soon positively ceased to notice his existence. +Vassily had the tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; +but he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or arranged some +noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a boating party by night with +torches and music--he did not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a +chance to think clearly. + +But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov dimly felt that +he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had somehow become as it were +an outsider to her... but in the boundless goodness of his heart, he was +afraid of wounding her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and +prized her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what to +say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two months passed +by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, disappeared at last in Olga. +Rogatchov, feeble and tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had +no wish even to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she +surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + +Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of the bliss of +love; but it was not for long. Though Vassily--for lack of other +occupation--did not drop her, and even attached himself to her and +looked after her fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she +found no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away from +Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did not dare to +think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, and was devoured by +misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in carrying her along with him and +making her forget everything and every one. But the very next day he +would find her pale, speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on +her lips.... There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but +no difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a skilled +gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga Ivanovna; she was +continually betraying herself, turning pale, blushing, weeping... her +new part was utterly beyond her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his +restless and boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have +detected something strained and feverish. He played his brothers, +sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns at chess. He was +everlastingly on the alert. Not a single glance, a single movement, was +lost on him, yet he appeared the most heedless of men. Every morning he +faced the fray, and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the +least oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four +hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was healthy, fresh, +and good-humoured. + +Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded in +persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of delay. Then +he despatched him to Moscow to make various purchases, while he was +himself in correspondence with friends in Petersburg. He took all this +trouble, not so much from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural +bent and liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning +to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a violent outbreak +of passion for her, he would look at her, as he sometimes did at +Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a riddle to every one. In the +coldness of his relentless soul you felt the presence of a strange +almost southern fire, and even in the wildest glow of passion a breath +of icy chill seemed to come from the man. + +Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But when they +were alone, he played with her like a cat with a mouse, or frightened +her with sophistries, or was wearily, malignantly bored, or again flung +himself at her feet, swept her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and +there was no feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was +moved himself. + +One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting alone in his +room, attentively reading over the last letters he had received from +Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a faint creak at the door, and Olga +Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, came in. + +'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + +'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + +'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing there for?' +he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + +'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants to see +you,' she said. + +'Why, what's the matter?' + +'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + +Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and went in to +Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, pale and passive. + +'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + +Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + +'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + +He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... She tried +to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman had no possible +doubt of her condition left her. + +Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a couple of +steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily cautiously sat down by Olga, +kissed and chafed her hands, comforted her in whispers. She listened to +him, and silently, faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, +stealthily wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even +ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. Olga +Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and stifled sobs. Tears +are like a storm; after them one is always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna +had quieted down a little, and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, +like a child, Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender +promises, soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her +to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote two or three +letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a gold locket containing +the portrait of a black-browed, black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous +face, scrutinised her features slowly, and walked up and down the room +pondering. + +Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor Olga's red +and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After breakfast he proposed a +stroll in the garden to her. Olga followed Vassily, like a submissive +sheep. When two hours afterwards she came in from the garden she quite +broke down; she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down +on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable show of +remorse, informed her that he was secretly married--he was really as +much a bachelor as I am. Olga Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon--people +don't fall into swoons except on the stage--but she turned all at once +stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to marry Vassily +Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think about it. Vassily had begun +to explain to her the inevitableness of her parting from him and +marrying Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. Vassily +talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, blamed himself, +expressed his regret, but concluded all his remarks with the following +words: 'There's no going back on the past; we've got to act.' + +Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and shame; a +dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for death, and waited in +agony for Vassily's decision. + +'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at last. + +Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + +'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust to me, I +won't desert you... I will make everything right... rely upon me.' + +The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and deep, but +hopeless devotion. + +'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her at +parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly hands.... + +Next morning--Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her bed--her door +opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in the doorway. She was supported +by Vassily. In silence she got as far as an arm-chair, and in silence +she sat down. Vassily stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows +were knitted and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, +indignant, angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga +Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her lover, with a +terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on her knees with a shriek in +the middle of the room, and hid her face in her hands. + +'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and bent down to +her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching Olga by the arm. + +'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me not to be +hard on her.' + +'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + +'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + +This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in her chair, +and burst into sobs. + +Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung herself at +the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, raised her from the +ground, and led her to another arm-chair. Anna Pavlovna went on weeping +and muttering disconnected words.... + +'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the trouble may +yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + +Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + +'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at Olga Ivanovna, +'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable family with impunity...' + +Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + +'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + +'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, her youth, +he--you wish to say something'--he broke off, seeing that Olga made a +movement towards him.... + +Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + +'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her this very +day. You may be sure I will not let him make a laughing-stock of us....' + +'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + +He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence again. + +'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. Look, she +is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon me; I answer for +everything; in any case, wait till I return. I tell you again, don't +torture her, or yourself, and trust to me.' + +He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come with me, leave +her alone, I beg of you.' + +Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down to the +ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, without a word or a +movement, looked after them. + +Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in her ear, +'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' +he called, running swiftly down the stairs, 'Bourcier!' + +A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage with his +valet. + +That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to the +district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his servants. Pavel +Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, looking through a collection +of faded butterflies. With lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was +carefully, with a pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night +sphinx' moth, when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on +his shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + +'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some amazement. + +Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + +Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at Vassily, and +subsided with his mouth open and his hands clasped. + +'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are you meaning +to dance at your _wedding soon?_' + +'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and your sister +... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + +'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel +Afanasievitch.' + +'How so?' + +'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I know all; +you understand me, and I order you without delay to-morrow to marry +Olga.' + +'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from his seat; +'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of myself and there's no +need to give me orders.... I confess, Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite +understand you.' + +'You don't understand me?' + +'No, really, I don't understand you.' + +'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + +'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself put off +our wedding more than once? Except for you it would have taken place +long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking it off. What is the meaning +of your threats, your insistence?' + +Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + +'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated +emphatically. + +'Excuse me... I will... but...' + +'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + +'Who has confessed?' + +'Olga Ivanovna.' + +'Why, what has she confessed?' + +'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? I'm not a +stranger to you.' + +'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I positively +don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna confess?' + +'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + +'May God slay me...' + +'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you understand?' + +'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing Vassily. 'Olga +Ivanovna... you tell me...' + +'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'--Vassily with a smile +patted him on the shoulder--'though you do look so innocent.' + +'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you mean, +explain, for God's sake!' + +Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + +Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + +Vassily stamped. + +'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + +'Yes... your betrothed...' + +'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I never wish +to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Good-bye to her for ever! +What do you take me for? I'm being duped... I'm being duped... Olga +Ivanovna, how wrong of you, have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from +his eyes.) 'Thanks, Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never +wish to see her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful +Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, very well!' + +'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. 'Remember, +you've given me your word: the wedding's to-morrow.' + +'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I say again, +what do you take me for? You do me too much honour. I'm humbly obliged. +Excuse me.' + +'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + +'Sword... what for?' + +'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + +Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it a little +against the floor. + +'You want... to fight... me?' + +'Precisely so.' + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can I, only +think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man of honour, Vassily +Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + +'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so good as to +fight with me.' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + +'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + +'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You thought you +would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare him, you thought, he's +a coward, and he'll agree to anything directly... No, Vassily +Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much as you are, though I've not had city +breeding, and you won't succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse +me.' + +'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + +'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + +'Get me the sword--there--you know, in the loft... make haste....' + +Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became exceedingly pale, +hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put on a reddish coat with big +paste buttons... twisted a cravat round his neck... Vassily looked at +him, and twiddled the fingers of his right hand. + +'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + +'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and hurriedly +buttoned up his shirt. + +'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... what is it to +you... And believe me, I'll...' + +'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll kill me or +maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my honour; if I'm to die +then I must die.' + +Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old sword in a +torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen wore swords with +powder, but in the steppes they only put on powder twice a year. Eroshka +moved away to the door and burst out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed +him out of the room. + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some embarrassment, 'I can't +fight with you on the spot: allow me to put off our duel till to-morrow. +My father is not at home, and it would be as well for me to put my +affairs in order to--to be ready for anything.' + +'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + +'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + +'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of patience.... Either +give me your word to marry her at once, or fight...or I'll thrash you +with my cane like a coward,--do you understand?' + +'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + +But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, utterly +distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees before Rogatchov, and +clasped his legs.... + +'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it you are +about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, your honour? Sure, +he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the word, you say the word, and +we'll make an end of him, the insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, +my baby-boy, for the love of God!' + +A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there was even the +red beard of the village elder... + +'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + +'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are you about? +What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us all out of the light +of day.... Why are you fellows standing still? Take the uninvited guest +in hand and show him out of the house, so that not a trace be left of +him.' + +'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + +'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' said Pavel +Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, and you others, off +with you, do you hear?...' + +Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out a small +silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered from close by. +Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel Afanasievitch. + +'What's to be the end of this farce?' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I do with +this crazy old woman?...' + +'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, and he +swiftly raised his cane... + +Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, snatched up the +sword, and rushed through another door into the garden. + +Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, painted +cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves in, and drew their +swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons in fencing, but now he was +scarcely capable of drawing a sword properly. The blades crossed. +Vassily was obviously playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel +Afanasievitch was breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into +Lutchinov's face. + +Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of people were +running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov heard the heart-rending +wail of old age...he recognised the voice of his father. Afanasey +Lukitch, bare-headed, with dishevelled hair, was running in front of +them all, frantically waving his hands.... + +With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent the sword +flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + +'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this foolery!' + +'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his eyes, and +shook all over. + +Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the summerhouse. + +'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + +Rogatchov shook his head. + +'Well, damn you, then!' + +Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed him to the +heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst into the summerhouse, +but Vassily had already jumped out of window... + +Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She rushed in +terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; took out his sword and +pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait in the place of the heart. Olga +shrieked and fell unconscious on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna +Pavlovna. He found her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are +avenged.' The poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + +Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two years later he +came back stricken with paralysis--tongue-tied. He found neither Anna +Pavlovna nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of +Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who could +understand his incoherent stuttering. + +1846. + + + + + + +ENOUGH + +A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + + +I + +II + +III + + +'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over the steep +mountainside down to the quiet little brook. 'Enough,' I said again, as +I drank in the resinous fragrance of the pinewood, strong and pungent in +the freshness of falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat +on the mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, +lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their pale green +blades.... 'Enough.' + +No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to keep firm +hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No more to brood over +the voluptuous sweetness of vague, seductive ecstasy, no more to run +after each fresh form of beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of +her delicate, strong wings. + +All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. What to me +now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than ever, the sunset floods +the heavens as though aflame with some triumphant passion? What to me +that, amid the soft peace and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces +hence, hidden in a thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung +his heart out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on +earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first love? All +this was, has been, has been again, and is a thousand times +repeated--and to think that it will last on so to all eternity--as +though decreed, ordained--it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + + +IV + + +Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me once--in +those happy days of old, when I too was aflame like the sunset and my +heart sang like the nightingale. + +There is no hiding it--everything has faded about me, all life has +paled. The light that gives life's colours depth and meaning--the light +that comes out of the heart of man--is dead within me.... No, not dead +yet--it feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + +Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to the grating +window of an old church, and leaned against the faulty pane. It was dark +under the low arched roof--a forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon +the ancient picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the +sacred face--stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered about it, +ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the feeble ray of +impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the light; and such the +darkness. + + +V + + +And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten friend, to +thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for ever, but shall not cease +to love till my life's end.... Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But +that I have no wish to speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, +in these wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and +through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I feel the +sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + +For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence in which I +am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on all my past... our +past.... No hope and no return; but no bitterness is in my heart and no +regret, and clearer than the blue of heaven, purer than the first snow +on mountain tops, fair memories rise up before me like the forms of +departed gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow procession +they follow one another like those draped Athenian figures we admired so +much--dost thou remember?--in the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + + +VI + + +I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, and sheds +brightness on all around him... I long to talk with thee of the time +when in my heart too that light burned bright with blessing... Listen... +and I will fancy thee sitting before me, gazing up at me with those +eyes--so fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to be +forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his heart thy +glance--that glance that seems to flow from depths unknown even as +mysterious springs--like ye, both clear and dark--that gush out into +some narrow, deep ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + + +VII + + +It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I had seen +thee for the first time and--not yet dreaming of what thou wouldst be to +me--already, silently, secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to +cross one of the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, +but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. The snow was +melting everywhere--steadily but slowly; there was the running of water +on all sides; a noiseless wind strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky +alike were steeped in one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was +there light; not one object stood out clear in the general whiteness, +everything looked both close and indistinct. I left my cart far behind +and walked swiftly over the ice of the river, and except the muffled +thud of my own steps heard not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides +by the first breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually +gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, a glad +tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within me... it drew me +on, it hastened me, and so strong was the flood of gladness within me, +that I stood still at last and with questioning eyes looked round me, as +I would seek some outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, +white, slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated a +flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome spring!' I shouted +aloud: 'welcome, life and love and happiness!' And at that instance, +with sweetly troubling shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image +blossomed aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and +radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only--that I am all filled +full of thee.... + + +VIII + + +I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures float before +me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my life I meet thee. Now an +old Russian garden rises up before me on the slope of a hillside, +lighted up by the last rays of the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars +peeps out the wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish +smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate stands +just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with faltering hand; and I +stand and wait and gaze at that gate and the sand of the garden +path--wonder and rapture in my heart. All that I behold seems new and +different; over all a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already +I catch the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a +bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my heart burns and +shudders in joyous dread before the approaching, the alighting +rapture.... + + +IX + + +Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. In rows +kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful chill, of something +grave and melancholy is wafted from the high, bare roof, from the huge, +branching columns. Thou standest at my side, mute, apart, as though +knowing me not. Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved +in stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the stained +windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, violently thrilling the +incense-clouded air, thrilling us within, rolled out the mighty flood of +the organ's notes... and I saw thee paler, rigid--thy glance caressed +me, glided higher and rose heavenwards--while to me it seemed none but +an immortal soul could look so, with such eyes... + + +X + + +Another picture comes back to me. + +No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; the low +walls of a little snug room shut us off from the whole world. What am I +saying? We are alone, alone in the whole world; except us two there is +nothing living--outside these friendly walls darkness and death and +emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not the rain +streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, his sightless eyes +are weeping. But with us all is peaceful and light and warm and +welcoming; something droll, something of childish innocence, like a +butterfly--isn't it so?--flutters about us. We nestle close to one +another, we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I +feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear that thou +livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is born on my face +before it is on thine, thou makest mute answer to my mute question, thy +thoughts, my thoughts are like the two wings of one bird, lost in the +infinite blue... the last barriers have fallen--and so soothed, so +deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished that we have +no need for word or look to pass between us.... Only to breathe, to +breathe together is all we want, to be together and scarcely to be +conscious that we are together.... + + +XI + + +Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September when we +walked through the deserted, still flowering garden of a forsaken palace +on the bank of a great river--not Russian--under the soft brilliance of +the cloudless sky. Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly +flowing river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of +voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the unfamiliar +monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws in the high sun-lit +treetops, and the tender words and smiles and looks, long, soft, +piercing to the very in-most soul, and the beauty, beauty in our lives, +about us, on all sides--it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat +in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of feeling--I cannot +forget it till the hour I die! How delicious were those few strangers +passing us with brief greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet +boats floating by (in one--dost thou remember?--stood a horse pensively +gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of the tiny ripples by +the bank, and the very bark of the distant dogs across the water, the +very shouts of the fat officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, +with outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We both felt +that better than those moments nothing in the world had been or would be +for us, that all else... But why compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: +enough. + + +XII + + +For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid them +farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, his gold, his +bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, grey earth; so the wick of +a smouldering lamp flickers up in a last bright flare and sinks into +cold ash. The wild creature has peeped out from its hole for the last +time at the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and +has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to sleep. Will he +have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun and the grass and the blue +kindly water?... + + +XIII + + +Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at the first, +absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in ourselves, we are not +aware of her harsh hand. While one can be deceived and has no shame in +lying, one can live and there is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full +truth, of that, indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can +reach locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the No.' +Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall to pieces, not +to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... of self-contempt,--calmly +to turn away from all, to say 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon +the empty breast, to save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, +the dignity of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal +hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the whole +universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher than the universe, +because he would know it was crushing him, and it would know it not. A +poor dignity! A sorry consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by +it, to have faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and +there's no refuting those words of menace: + + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' + + +I quoted these lines from _Macbeth_, and there came back to my mind +the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no ghosts, no fantastic, +unearthly powers are terrible; there are no terrors in the Hoffmann +world, in whatever form it appears.... What is terrible is that there is +nothing terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, uninteresting +and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked through and through with that +knowledge, once one has tasted of that bitter, no honey more seems +sweet, and even the highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of +perfect nearness, of complete devotion--even that loses all its magic; +all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its brevity. Yes; a +man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of eternal bliss, of undying +raptures, and lo, no trace is left of the very worm that devoured the +last relic of his withered tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, +when all is lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare +forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the fog and +turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once the gnats swarm up +on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, bustle, flutter up and down, +circle round one another... The sun is hidden--the gnats fall in a +feeble shower, and there is the end of their momentary life. + + +XIV + + +But are there no great conceptions, no great words of consolation: +patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; those words there are, +and many men live by them and for them. And yet it seems to me that if +Shakespeare could be born again he would have no cause to retract his +Hamlet, his Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in +human life: still the same motley picture--in reality so little +complex--would unroll before him in its terrifying sameness. The same +credulity and the same cruelty, the same lust of blood, of gold, of +filth, the same vulgar pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the +name... why, in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered +at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which the +many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, the same workings +of power, the same traditions of slavishness, the same innateness of +falsehood--in a word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old +unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear repeating his +cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words means: 'None is without +offence.' and he too would say 'enough!' he too would turn away. One +thing perhaps, may be: in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, +the great poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the +tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own virtue, and +sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too sumptuous a dinner at the +very time when his half-crushed victims try to find comfort in picturing +him, like Richard, haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + +But to what end? + +Why prove--picking out, too, and weighing words, smoothing and rounding +off phrases--why prove to gnats that they are really gnats? + + +XV + + +But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they are more +powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. Venus of Milo is, may +be, more real than Roman law or the principles of 1789. It may be +objected--how many times has the retort been heard!--that beauty itself +is relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other than the +European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of art confounds me; +its transitoriness, again its brevity, its dust and ashes--that is what +robs me of faith and courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, +may be, than nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no +picture of Ruysdael, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted pedants or +disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art is the imitation of +nature. But at the end of all, nature is inexorable; she has no need to +hurry, and sooner or later she takes her own. Unconsciously and +inflexibly obedient to laws, she knows not art, as she knows not +freedom, as she knows not good; from all ages moving, from all ages +changing, she suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is +her child; but man's work--art--is hostile to her, just because it +strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the child of nature; but +she is the universal mother, and she has no preferences; all that exists +in her lap has arisen only at the cost of something else, and must in +its time yield its place to something else. She creates destroying, and +she cares not whether she creates or she destroys--so long as life be +not exterminated, so long as death fall not short of his dues.... And so +just as serenely she hides in mould the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus +as the simplest pebble, and gives the vile worm for food the priceless +verse of Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work of +of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the force of +nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian recklessly smashing +the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage yells with which he casts in +the fire the picture of Apelles? How are we, poor folks, poor artists to +be a match for this deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her +conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How stand +against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, unceasingly moving +upward? How have faith in the value and dignity of the fleeting images, +that in the dark, on the edge of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an +instant? + + +XVI + + +All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, said Schiller; +and nature in the incessant play of her rising, vanishing forms is not +averse to beauty. Does not she carefully deck the most fleeting of her +children--the petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly--in the +fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite lines? Beauty +needs not to live for ever to be eternal--one instant is enough for her. +Yes; that may be is true--but only there where personality is not, where +man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing spoiled appears +again and again for a thousand years as the same wing of the same +butterfly; there sternly, fairly, impersonally necessity completes her +circle... but man is not repeated like the butterfly, and the work of +his hands, his art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for +ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but strange and +dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... for one hour--as there +was, in the tale, a caliph for an hour. In this is our pre-eminence--and +our curse; each of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even +this _I_ is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on lines +laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware of his +significance, is aware that he is innately something noble, eternal--and +lives, and must live in the moment and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, +my friend, and aspire to the skies! The greatest among us are just those +who more deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; +though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as greatest, great? + +[Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's words +to Faust:-- + + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht-- + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + --AUTHOR'S NOTE.] + + +XVII + + +What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one cannot apply +such terms, even in the sense given them by the feeble tongue of man? +What can one say of the ordinary, common, second-rate, third-rate +toilers--whatsoever they may be--statesmen, men of science, +artists--above all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb +indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the field of +battle, if once the conception has stolen into their brains of the +nullity of everything human, of every sort of effort that sets before +itself a higher aim than the mere winning of bread? By what crowns can +they be lured for whom laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what +end will they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the +judgment of the fool'--of the old fool who cannot forgive them from +turning away from the old bogies--of the young fool who would force them +to kneel with him, to grovel with him before the new, lately discovered +idols? Why should they go back again into that jostling crowd of +phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat each other +alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is paltry and worthless? Why +'with impotence in their bones' should they struggle back into that +world where the peoples, like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in +the mire for handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed +adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that world where +only that is living which has no right to live, and each, stifling self +with his own shouting, hurries feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended +goal? No... no.... Enough... enough... enough! + + +XVIII + + +...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the original.--TRANSLATOR'S +NOTE.] + +1864. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +This file should be named 7tjew10.txt or 7tjew10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7tjew11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7tjew10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8696] +[This file was first posted on August 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + +BY IVAN TURGENEV + + + +_Translated from the Russian_ +_By CONSTANCE GARNETT_ + + + + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK +WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV +SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the childish +attitude of certain English men of letters to the novel in general, +their depreciation of its influence and of the public's 'inordinate' +love of fiction. Many men of letters to-day look on the novel as a mere +story-book, as a series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their +'idle hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, and +poetry as the age's _serious_ contribution to literature. Whereas +the reverse is the case. The most serious and significant of all +literary forms the modern world has evolved is the novel; and brought to +its highest development, the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour +of being the supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + +To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden marked out +for the crowd's diversion--a field of recreation adorned here and there +by the masterpieces of a few great men--argues in the modern critic +either an academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed +obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama in all but +two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by artists as a coarse +playground for the great public's romps and frolics, but the novel can +be preserved exactly so long as the critics understand that to exercise +a delicate art is the one _serious_ duty of the artistic life. It +is no more an argument against the vital significance of the novel that +tens of thousands of people--that everybody, in fact--should to-day +essay that form of art, than it is an argument against poetry that for +all the centuries droves and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and +rhymesters have succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in +worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be vindicated +in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm of critics in stripping +bare the false, and in hailing as the true all that is animated by the +living breath of beauty. The true function of the novel! That can only +be supported by those who understand that the adequate representation +and criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men were the +novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned to the mass of vulgar +standards. That the novel is the most insidious means of mirroring human +society Cervantes in his great classic revealed to seventeenth-century +Europe. Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great +realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century that the +novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their days to the days of +Henry James the form of the novel has been adapted by European genius to +the exact needs, outlook, and attitude to life of each successive +generation. To the French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must +be given the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has +become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, however, +reserved for the youngest of European literatures, for the Russian +school, to raise the novel to being the absolute and triumphant +expression by the national genius of the national soul. + +Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best defined by saying +that while he stands as a great classic in the ranks of the great +novelists, along with Richardson, Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, +Thackeray, Meredith, Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest +of them all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been +recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both wider in +its range and more beautiful in its form than the work of any modern +European artist. The novel modelled by Turgenev's hands, the Russian +novel, became _the_ great modern instrument for showing 'the very +age and body of the time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life +in all its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the same +time to assess its values by the great poetic insight that reveals man's +relations to the universe around him,--that is an art only transcended +by Shakespeare's own in its unique creation of a universe of great human +types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we see that if +he has made the novel both more delicate and more powerful than their +example shows it, it is because as the supreme artist he filled it with +the breath of poetry where others in general spoke the word of prose. +Turgenev's horizon always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and +Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev speaks for the +nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an endless stream of human +figures, Turgenev's characters reveal themselves as wider apart in the +range of their spirit, as more mysteriously alive in their inevitable +essence, than do Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or +Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in _War and +Peace_, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole generation, +Turgenev in _Fathers and Children_ concentrates in the few words of +a single character, Bazarov, the essence of modern science's attitude to +life, that scientific spirit which has transformed both European life +and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further parallels +between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England alone, perhaps, is it +necessary to say to the young novelist that the novel can become +anything, can be anything, according to the hands that use it. In its +application to life, its future development can by no means be gauged. +It is the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief method +to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. If you love your +art, if you would exalt it, treat it absolutely seriously. If you would +study it in its highest form, the form the greatest artist of our time +has perfected--remember Turgenev. + +EDWARD GARNETT. + +November 1899. + + + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE JEW + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + +THE DUELLIST + +THREE PORTRAITS + +ENOUGH + + + + + + + +THE JEW + + +...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai Ilyitch. + +The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke between his +moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, looked at us and +considered. We all had the greatest liking and respect for Nikolai +Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, common sense, and kindly indulgence +to us young fellows. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; +his dark face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: Lermontov +in the _Treasurer's Wife_.--AUTHOR'S NOTE.] straight-forward, +clever glance, gentle smile, manly and mellow voice--everything about +him pleased and attracted one. + +'All right, listen then,' he began. + +It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the E---- regiment of +cuirassiers, and had just, I recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It +is an exhilarating occupation--fighting; and marching too is good enough +in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a besieging army. There one sits +the whole blessed day within some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on +mud or straw, playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from +simple boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets +flying. + +At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they quickly +subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions too; we were +overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that we were ready to howl for +sheer _ennui_. I was not more than nineteen then; I was a healthy +young fellow, fresh as a daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the +fun I could out of the French... and in other ways too... you +understand what I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to +do, I fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my luck +turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I had won an +immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out into the fresh air, and +sat down on a mound. It was a splendid, calm morning; the long lines of +our fortifications were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and +then began to doze where I was sitting. + +A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me +a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey wrapper, slippers, +and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose name was Girshel, was +continually hanging about our camp, offering his services as an agent, +getting us wine, provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, +red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked incessantly +with his diminutive little eyes, which were reddish too; he had a long +crooked nose, and was always coughing. + +He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + +'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + +'Oh, I only--I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be of use to your +honour in some way...' + +'I don't want you; you can go.' + +'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there might be, +sir, something....' + +'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + +'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to +congratulate you on your success....' + +'Why, how did you know?' + +'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... immense....Oh! how +immense....' + +Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + +'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the devil's the +good of money here?' + +'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. Money's a +capital thing; always of use; you can get anything for money, your +honour; anything! anything! Only say the word to the agent, he'll get +you anything, your honour, anything! anything!' + +'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + +'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your honour doesn't +believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed his eyes and slowly wagged +his head to right and to left.... 'Oh, I know what his honour the +officer would like.... I know,... to be sure I do!' + +The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + +'Really!' + +The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + +'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel again closed +his eyes and shot out his lips. + +'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see for +yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you won't believe... +better tell me to show you... that's the thing, that's the thing!' + +I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + +'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you then....' + +Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the shoulder, but +skipped back at once as though he had been scalded. + +'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + +'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + +'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with unusual warmth, +waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... if so, your honour, you +order me to be given five hundred... four hundred and fifty lashes,' he +added hurriedly....' You give orders--' + +At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent and called +me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a gold coin. + +'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + +I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening with some +impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; our regiment marched +to the attack. The evening came on; we sat round the fires... the +soldiers cooked porridge. My comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank +tea, and listened to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of +cards--I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. Gradually the +officers dispersed to their tents; the fires began to die down; the +soldiers too dispersed, or went to sleep on the spot; everything was +still. I did not get up. My orderly squatted on his heels before the +fire, and was beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was +hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it were +waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night came on. A long +while I watched the dying flame.... The last fire went out. 'The damned +Jew was taking me in,' I thought angrily, and was just going to get up. + +'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my ear. + +I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and whispered +something. + +'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The Jew shrank +into himself, and stepped warily over the short, damp grass. I observed +on one side a motionless, muffled-up figure. The Jew beckoned to +her--she went up to him. He whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his +head several times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to +relate, I was breathless. + +'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, 'you see. +She's a little frightened at the moment, she's frightened; but I've told +her his honour the officer's a good man, a splendid man.... Don't be +frightened, don't be frightened,' he went on--'don't be frightened....' + +The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state of dreadful +confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel too was fidgeting +restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange way.... + +'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as it seemed, +Girshel obeyed. + +I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark hood off +her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by the faint, reddish, +flickering glow of the distant fire I saw the pale face of a young +Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I stood facing her, and gazed at her in +silence. She did not raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. +Girshel was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. I +waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + +'What's your name?' I said at last. + +'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the darkness the +gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped eyes and little, even, +flashing teeth. + +I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, and asked +her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat down. She was +wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, with round, chased silver +buttons, and full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round +her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. +She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a +catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed +her cold, shaking fingers. + +'Do you know Russian?' + +'Yes... a little.' + +'And do you like Russians?' + +'Yes, I like them.' + +'Then, you like me too?' + +'Yes, I like you.' + +I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly.... + +'No, no, please, sir, please...' + +'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + +She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away +with a smile, and blushed. + +I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and +softly laughed. + +'What is it?' + +She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + +Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger +at her. She ceased laughing. + +'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me sick!' + +Girshel did not go away. + +I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them in his +hand and pushed him out. + +'Your honour, me too....' she said. + +I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them like a cat. + +'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + +'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and beseeching voice. + +'What are you frightened of?' + +'I'm afraid.' + +'Oh, nonsense....' + +'No, please.' + +She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side and clasped +her hands. I let her alone. + +'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and she raised +her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I kissed it. Sara laughed +again. + +My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not know what to +do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + +I turned to her again. + +'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + +'I know.' + +'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + +Sara shook her head. + +'No, answer me properly.' + +'Well, show yourself,' she said. + +I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, began +scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not contain myself, +and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She jumped up and in one bound +was at the entrance of the tent. + +'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + +She did not speak and did not stir. + +'Come here to me....' + +'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + +Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of words to +her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + +I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get another +glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + +The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + +The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I was +playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + +'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + +'Who is it?' + +'A Jew.' + +'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the rubber, +got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + +'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your honour, are +you satisfied?' + +'Ah, you------!' (Here the colonel glanced round. 'No ladies present, I +believe.... Well, never mind, any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, +'so you're making fun of me, are you?' + +'How so?' + +'How so, indeed! What a question!' + +'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said reproachfully, but +never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young and modest.... You frightened +her, indeed, you did.' + +'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + +'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + +'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... only, +please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and leave us in +peace; do you hear?' + +Girshel's eyes sparkled. + +'What do you say? You like her?' + +'Well, yes.' + +'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. And have +you something for me now?' + +'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring her and +then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + +'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined hurriedly. +'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near the tent, your honour, +if you like; I'll... I'll go away, your honour, if you like, a +little.... I'm ready to do your honour a service.... I'll move away... +to be sure, I will.' + +'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + +'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a beauty, eh?' + +Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + +'She's good-looking.' + +'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + +I threw him a coin; we parted. + +The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting for a long +while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It struck two in the town. +I was beginning to curse the Jew.... Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I +jumped up took her in my arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold +as ice. I could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit +down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her waist.... She +did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she broke into loud, +convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to soothe her, to persuade her.... +She wept in torrents.... I caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she +did not resist, made no answer to my questions and wept--wept, like a +waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out of the tent. + +Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + +'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. Take Sara +away.' + +The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched +hold of him. + +'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each +other again some other time.' + +Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and +pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + +For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel +did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I +slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black +eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her +cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging +party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking +the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my +horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot.... + +'Mercy on us, Sara!' + +She was pale and excited. + +'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... +Your honour....' + +She recognised me and flushed red. + +'Why, do you live here?' + +'Yes.' + +'Where?' + +Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and +galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess +was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three +hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the +hens clucked and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading +their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I +heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called to my men and told +them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The +soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as +he called her, 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + +'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + +She looked at me with a smile. + +'What has become of you all this time?' + +She dropped her eyes. + +'I will come to you to-morrow.' + +'In the evening?' + +'No, sir, in the morning.' + +'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + +'No... no, I won't.' + +I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me handsomer than +ever. I remember I was particularly struck by the even, amber tint of +her face and the bluish lights in her black hair.... I bent down from my +horse and warmly pressed her little hand. + +'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + +'Yes.' + +She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the party, and +galloped off. + +The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of the tent. It +was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen and every blade of grass +was sparkling in the dew and the crimson glow. I clambered on to a high +breastwork, and sat down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, +cast-iron cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I +looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of a bent +figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I recognised Girshel. +He stood without moving for a long while in one place, then suddenly ran +a little on one side, looked hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a +cry, squatted down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round +again and listening. I could see all his actions very clearly. He put +his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and +began writing or drawing something. Girshel continually stopped, started +like a hare, attentively scrutinised everything around him, and seemed +to be sketching our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half +closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. At last, the +Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his slipper, and stuffed the +paper in it; but he had not time to regain his legs, when suddenly, ten +steps from him, there appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the +whiskered countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole +of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew stood with +his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him and laid his heavy paw +on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to shrink into himself. He shook like a +leaf and uttered a feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him +threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear their +conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the Jew, and his +supplicating appearance, I began to guess what it was. The Jew twice +flung himself at the sergeant's feet, put his hand in his pocket, pulled +out a torn check handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold +coins.... Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not +leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a sudden bound +and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in pursuit. The Jew ran +exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue stockings, flashed by, really +very rapidly; but Siliavka after a short run caught the crouching Jew, +made him stand up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I +got up and went to meet him. + +'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,--'it's a spy I'm bringing you--a +spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was streaming with perspiration. +'Stop that wriggling, devilish Jew--now then... you wretch! you'd better +look out, I'll throttle you!' + +The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into Siliavka's +chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were rolling convulsively.... + +'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + +'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his right +foot,--I can't get at it.' He was still holding the Jew in his arms. + +I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded piece of +paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our camp. On the margin +were a number of notes written in a fine hand in the Jews' language. + +Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew opened his eyes, +saw me, and flung himself on his knees before me. + +Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + +'What's this?' + +'It's---nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice broke. + +'Are you a spy?' + +He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, pressed my knees +in terror.... + +'Are you a spy?' + +'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I never did; +I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly impossible. I'm +ready--I'll--this minute--I've money to give... I'll pay for it,' he +whispered, and closed his eyes. + +The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish hair was +soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips were blue, and +working convulsively; his brows were contracted painfully; his face was +drawn.... + +Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give Girshel a good +fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his tongue, but now the affair had +become public, and could not escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + +'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + +'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of despair. 'I +am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let me go, tell him...' + +'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come along.' + +'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me--'tell him! have mercy!' + +His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a man of +German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict in his adherence +to military discipline. I went into the little house that had been +hastily put up for him, and in a few words explained the reason of my +visit. I knew the severity of the military regulations, and so I did not +even pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair before +him as something quite trifling and not worth attention. But, unhappily +for Girshel, the general put doing his duty higher than pity. + +'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, 'inexperienced +are. You in military matters yet inexperienced are. The matter, of which +you to me reported have, is important, very important.... And where is +this man who taken was? this Jew? where is he?' + +I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in the Jew. +The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + +'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's the plan +which on this man found was?' + +I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away again, +screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + +'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who arrested him?' + +'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + +'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in your defence?' + +'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... indeed,... +your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your Excellency; ask his honour the +officer.... I'm an agent, your Excellency, an honest agent.' + +'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an undertone, +wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you explain this, my friend?' +'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, I'm not guilty.' + +'That is not probable, however. You were--how is it said in +Russian?--taken on the fact, that is, in the very facts!' + +'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + +'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + +'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your Excellency!' + +The general looked at Siliavka. + +'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the +plan out of his slipper.' + +The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + +'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + +'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + +'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? +Confess....' + +'How could I?' + +'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + +The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the skirts of his +gown. + +'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief +silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor Schliekelmann?' + +They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. Girshel began +to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes seemed starting out of +his head. The adjutant came in. The general gave him the requisite +instructions. The secretary showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an +instant. Two or three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + +'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German as best I +could; 'let him off....' + +'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to you, are +inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, and me no more to +trouble.' + +Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + +'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, your +Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a daughter... have +mercy....' + +'It's no use!' + +'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, your +Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + +'You furnished no other documents?' + +'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my children... have +mercy....' + +'But you are a spy.' + +'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + +The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it. + +'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said constrainedly, with the +air of a man forced to do violence to his heart, and sacrifice his +better feelings to inexorable duty--'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg +you to draw up a report of the occurrence....' + +A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary +timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected +the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast +trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, +he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had +on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again... his +gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + +We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + +'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched creature.' + +'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, and not +without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + +'For pity's sake....' + +'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the general, +and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + +I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere, +I remained at no great distance from the general's house. + +Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and +three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could +hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned +with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a +look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the +Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood +silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to +Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at +me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, +and closed my eyes.... + +Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head +and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and +clutched at my hands. + +'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + +'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + +'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + +'To what father?' + +'My father; they are going to hang him....' + +'What! is Girshel...?' + +'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing +her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + +We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary +birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them +without speaking.... + +'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers +won't obey me.' + +Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going +round. + +'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here? +It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together; +who knows, we may persuade him.' + +Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy. + +'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your +father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + +'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + +I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + +'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, tell them +to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the general.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +Ivanov ran off. + +We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I begged, +persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara tore her hair and +rushed at the sentinels; they would not let us pass. + +Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, and ran at +breakneck pace towards the open country, to her father. I followed her. +Every one stared at us, wondering. + +We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and picture it, +gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor Girshel. I flew into a +rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw us and fell on his daughter's +neck. Sara clung to him passionately. + +The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just beginning to +thank me... I turned away. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not pardoned?' + +I did not speak. + +'No?' + +'No.' + +'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, look... she, this +girl, see--you know--she's my daughter.' + +'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + +'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! I wouldn't +for anything...' + +He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted your money, +your honour, I must own... but not for anything....' + +I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his +accomplice.... + +'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, 'I'll +command her... I... do you understand?... everything... I'll go to every +length....' + +He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him hurriedly. Sara +silently and passionately embraced him. + +The adjutant came up to us. + +'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders to place +you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the soldiers to the Jew... +'quickly.' + +Siliavka went up to the Jew. + +'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had come with +him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor girl....' + +'Of course. Certainly.' + +The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was muttering something +to her in Yiddish.... + +The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's arms, and +carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at once she broke from +their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... Siliavka stopped her. Sara +pushed him away; her face was covered with a faint flush, her eyes +flashed, she stretched out her arms. + +'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice +accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan +and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful +death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless, +bloodthirsty dogs....' + +Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up +and carried her away. + +The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had +been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was +really ludicrous, in spite of all the horror of his position. The +intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed +itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, +and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was +horrible--intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead +with terror.... + +'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a +lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know me. I'm an agent, an +honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a minute, a little minute, a tiny +minute--wait! Let me go; I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I +know, she's at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he +bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the +quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The soldiers +were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a deafening shriek, and +wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your Excellency, have pity on the unhappy +father of a family. I'll give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, +your Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare me! +have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your Excellency, the +general and commander-in-chief!' + +They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed away. + +I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the widow of +the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes of the deceased. The +general ordered a hundred roubles to be given to her. Sara I never saw +again. I was wounded; I was taken to the hospital, and by the time I was +well again, Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the +banks of the Rhine. + + + + + + +AN UNHAPPY GIRL + + +Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful days... and I +would rather not recall them.... But I have made you a promise; I shall +have to tell you the whole story. Listen. + + +I + + +I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in the house +of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was eighteen; I had only +just passed from the second into the third course in the faculty 'of +Language' (that was what it was called in those days) in the Moscow +University. My aunt was a gentle, quiet woman--a widow. She lived in a +big, wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses such as, +I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. She saw hardly any +one, sat from morning till night in the drawing-room with two +companions, drank the choicest tea, played patience, and was continually +requesting that the room should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions +ran into the hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would +bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, and stepping +hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he would sprinkle the mint +with vinegar. White fumes always puffed up about his wrinkled face, and +he frowned and turned away, while the canaries in the dining-room +chirped their hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering +mint. + +I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She placed the +whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. My rooms were +furnished very elegantly, not at all like a student's rooms in fact: +there were pink curtains in the bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned +with blue rosettes, towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, +rather an annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were +calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it was, they +nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could never succeed in +forcing myself to smoke. I studied--why conceal my shortcomings?--very +lazily, especially at the beginning of the course. I went out a great +deal. My aunt had bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with +a pair of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were +rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed masses of +tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted myself no breach of +decorum, and behaved very discreetly, _en jeune homme de bonne +maison_. I would not for anything in the world have pained my kind +aunt; and besides I was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + + +II + + +From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no idea of the +science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One day in a café, I was +the spectator of a prolonged contest at chess, between two players, of +whom one, a fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as +playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play a match +with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, beat me easily, +three times running. + +'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a courteous +tone, noticing probably that my vanity was suffering; 'but you don't +know the openings. You ought to study a chess-book--Allgacir or Petrov.' + +'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + +'Come to me; I will give you one.' + +He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next day I went to +see him, and a week later we were almost inseparable. + + +III + + +My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. He lived +with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow of a privy +councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart and lived quite +independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He had a post in the +department of Court affairs. I became genuinely attached to him. I had +never in my life met a young man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about +him was charming and attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his +voice, and especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue +eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little nose, the +unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the light curls of soft +hair over the rather narrow, snow-white brow. Fustov's character was +remarkable for exceptional serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained +affability; he was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with +everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over anything. +Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon him; 'that's savage, +savage,' he would say with a faint shrug, half closing his golden eyes. +Marvellous were those eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed +sympathy, good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that I +noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely from their +setting, that it never changed, even when he was sipping his soup or +smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a byword between us. His +grandmother, indeed, had been a German. Nature had endowed him with all +sorts of talents. He danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a +first-rate swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books +and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of flowers or +Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the zither with feeling; +knew a number of tricks, with cards and without; and had a fair +knowledge of mechanics, physics, and chemistry; but everything only up +to a certain point. Only for languages he had no great facility: even +French he spoke rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share +in our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright sympathy +of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was attractive, +undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such importance among young people, +he did not care to enlarge, and fully deserved the nickname given him by +his comrades, 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; +there was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, though +in reality it was only manifested by his never refusing to see me when I +called. To my mind Fustov was the happiest man in the world. His life +ran so very smoothly. His mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles +all adored him, he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and +enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + + +IV + + +One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him in his +study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of panting and +splashing reached me from there. Every morning Fustov took a cold +shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter of an hour practised gymnastic +exercises, in which he had attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive +anxiety about one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did +not neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't over-excite +yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) Fustov had not yet made +his appearance, when the outer door of the room where I was waiting flew +wide open, and there walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish +uniform. He was a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a +dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. This person +stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth wide, and with a metallic +chuckle, he gave himself a smart slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up +in front as he did so. + +'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + +'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What are you up +to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' (The voice of the man +addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the same harsh, metallic note as his +laugh.) 'I've trudged all this way to give your little brother his +lesson; and he's got a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He +can't do his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + +Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again dealt +himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a check handkerchief +out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, ferociously rolling his eyes, +spat into the handkerchief, and ejaculated with the whole force of his +lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + +Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, asked us +if we were acquainted. + +'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the veteran of the +year twelve has not that honour!' + +Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran of the +year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, professor of... +various subjects.' + +'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch chimed in. 'Come +to think of it, what is there I haven't taught, and that I'm not +teaching now, for that matter! Mathematics and geography and statistics +and Italian book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear +sir?'--he pounced suddenly upon me--'ask Alexander Daviditch if I'm not +first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a poor sort of Bohemian--Czech, I +should say--if I weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is +ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't we seen you +for so long! We ought to have a little duet... ha-ha! Really!' + +'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan Demianitch,' replied +Fustov. + +'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + +When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to side in a +strange, restless way. + +'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he addressed me +again. 'But that's because you don't understand my temperament. You must +just ask our good friend here, Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about +me. What'll he tell you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, +good-hearted chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! +At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called Ivan +Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I wear my heart, as +they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all sorts I know naught about and +don't want to neither! Can't bear it! You drop in on me one day of an +evening, and you'll see for yourself. My good woman--my wife, that +is--has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and bake you... +something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't it the truth I'm +telling?' + +Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + +'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued Mr. Ratsch. +'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of his pocket and put it +up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd better be toddling on, I suppose. I've +another chick expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... +mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, at the Red +Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks to your brother's +cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen kopecks for sledge hire to +the good! Ha-ha! A very good day to you, gentlemen, till we meet +again!... Eh?... We must have a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the +passage putting on his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard +his metallic laugh. + + +V + + +'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had already set to +work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a foreigner? He speaks Russian so +fluently.' + +'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As long ago +as 1802, some prince or other brought him from abroad... in the capacity +of secretary... more likely, valet, one would suppose. He does speak +Russian fluently, certainly.' + +'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + +'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, these +Russianised Germans.' + +'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + +'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + +'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? Was he in +the militia, or what?' + +'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained in Moscow +and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + +'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + +Fustov still went on with his turning. + +'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; but that +must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received compensation from the +treasury for his losses.' + +'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in government service +then?' + +'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a petty +councillor.' + +'What's his wife like?' + +'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or butcher....' + +'And do you often go to see him?' + +'Yes.' + +'What, is it pleasant there?' + +'Rather pleasant.' + +'Has he any children?' + +'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his first wife.' + +'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + +'About five-and-twenty,' + +I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel turned more +rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his feet. + +'Is she good-looking?' + +'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and she's +altogether... a remarkable person.' + +'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special earnestness, +and to my next question he only responded by a grunt. + +'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + + +VI + + +A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to spend the +evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard and garden, in +Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky boulevard. He came out into the +passage, and meeting us with his characteristic jarring guffaw and +noise, led us at once into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a +stout lady in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. +Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been possessed of +what the French for some unknown reason call _beauté du diable_, +that is to say, freshness; but when I made her acquaintance, she +suggested involuntarily to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly +laid by the butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word +'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of cleanliness, but +everything about her, everything in the house positively shone, and +glittered; everything had been scoured, and polished, and washed: the +samovar on the round table flashed like fire; the curtains before the +windows, the table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the +little frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting there, +stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their mother, with +coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their foreheads, and red, +shapeless fingers. All the four of them had rather flat noses, large, +swollen-looking lips, and tiny, light-grey eyes. + +'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand on the +children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, Sashka and Mashka! +This one's eight, this one's seven, that one's four, and this one's only +two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! +Eh, Eleonora Karpovna?' + +'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna and she +turned away. + +'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. Ratsch +pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all baptized into the +Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon +my soul, she is, though she is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are +you Slavonic?' + +Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + +'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm a Russian +lady and all you may say....' + +'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke in Ivan +Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + +'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be sure I love +Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? And my children too +are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze ruhig mit den Füssen!' + +Ratsch waved his hand to her. + +'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's the nobly +born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! He'll come across +the inspector one of these fine days! He'll give him a talking-to! Das +ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + +'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie wissen +wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + +I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at what induced +him to visit such people... but at that instant there came into the room +a tall girl in a black dress, the elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom +Fustov had referred.... I perceived the explanation of my friend's +frequent visits. + + +VII + + +There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something about 'a white +dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just the impression made on me +by the girl, who entered the room. Between the world surrounding her and +herself there seemed to be too little in common; she herself seemed +secretly bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the +members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, simple-hearted, +healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already careworn, face bore the +traces of depression, pride and morbidity. The others, unmistakable +plebeians, were unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but +simple; but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably +aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace of the type +characteristic of the German race; she recalled rather the children of +the south. The excessively thick, lustreless black hair, the hollow, +black, lifeless but beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the +aquiline nose, the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic +line near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, +something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the movements, +elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this would not have struck +me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near the Pretchistensky boulevard, it +simply astonished me! I got up from my seat on her entrance; she flung +me a swift, uneasy glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down +near the window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's _Oniegin_ was then fresh +in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my friend was standing +with his back to me, taking a cup of tea from the plump hands of +Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further that the girl as she came in seemed +to bring with her a breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a +statue!' was my thought. + + +VIII + + +'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let me +introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! to Susanna +Ivanovna!' + +I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too is not the +same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose slightly, without smiling +or loosening her tightly clasped hands. + +'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander Daviditch? +eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and I've got the bassoon +out of its case already. Let us make sweet music for the honourable +company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to display his Russian; he was continually +bursting out with expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast +about the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you say? +Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no objection. +'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with the music-stand! Olga, +this way with the zither! And oblige us with candles for the stands, +better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch turned round and round in the room like a +top.) 'Piotr Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, +you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not above a +whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that silly chap, Viktor? +He ought to be here to listen too! You spoil him completely, Eleonora +Karpovna.' + +Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + +'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + +'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast verstanden? +Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + +The children had promptly done as their father had told them. The +music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already mentioned that +Fustov played the zither extremely well, but that instrument has always +produced the most distressing impression upon me. I have always fancied, +and I fancy still, that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a +decrepit Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and complaints +against the merciless musician who forces it to utter sounds. Mr. +Ratsch's performance, too, was not calculated to give me much pleasure; +moreover, his face became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant +expression, while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were +just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were swearing and +threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out chokingly husky, coarse +notes one after another. I placed myself near Susanna, and waiting for a +momentary pause, I asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + +She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and pronounced +abruptly, 'Who?' + +'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + +'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + +'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have misunderstood... But +I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + +Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + +'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + +I was silent for a while. + +'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + +Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something suggesting +a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not expected nor desired +the continuation of our conversation. + +'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. +'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with startling fury, +executing the final flourishes. I turned round, caught sight of the red +neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his +projecting ears, and very disgusting I thought him. + +'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said in an +undertone. + +'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though catching my secret +hint. + +'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at something. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in her German +Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very beautifully plays the +piano, only she likes not to play the piano when she is greatly pressed +to play.' + +Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply--she did not even look at +her--only there was a faint movement of her eyes, under their dropped +lids, in her direction. From this movement alone--this movement of her +pupils--I could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna +cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again I was +delighted at something. + +Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with hesitating footsteps +approached the window, near which Susanna and I were sitting, and asked +her if she had received from Lengold's the music that he had promised to +order her from Petersburg. + +'Selections from _Robert le Diable,_' he added, turning to me, +'from that new opera that every one's making such a fuss about.' + +'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning round with her +face to the window she whispered hurriedly. 'Please, Alexander +Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me play to-day. I don't feel in the +mood a bit.' + +'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan Demianitch, +coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a first-class article! He's +a Jew, and all Jews, like all Czechs, are born musicians. Especially +Jews. That's right, isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + +In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, there +could be heard something more than his usual bantering tone--the desire +to wound was evident. So, at least, I fancied, and so Susanna understood +him. She started instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A +spot of light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and +rising quickly, she went out of the room. + +'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled after her. + +'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. 'Wenn sie +einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + +'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his heels, and +slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the _plexus solaris._ +Oh! you needn't look at me like that, Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go +at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora +Karpovna... I cure all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at +that!' + +'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter responded +with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and gracefully swaying to and +fro, looked at the husband and wife. + +'And why not be joking, mein Mütterchen?' retorted Ivan Demianitch. +'Life's given us for use, and still more for beauty, as some celebrated +poet has observed. Kolka, wipe your nose, little savage!' + + +IX + + +'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through your doing,' +I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way home with him. 'You told +me that that girl--what's her name?--Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. +Ratsch, but she's his stepdaughter.' + +'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it all the +same?' + +'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! Did you +notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews before her? Is +she... a Jewess?' + +Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow was crisp, +like salt, under our feet. + +'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he observed at +last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish extraction.' + +'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + +'Probably.' + +'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is his +stepson too?' + +'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter into other +people's affairs, and I don't like asking questions. I'm not +inquisitive.' + +I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near home, I +overtook him and peeped into his face. + +'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + +Fustov frowned. + +'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only she's very +shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. He seemed to be +regretting having made me acquainted with her. + +I said nothing and we parted. + + +X + + +Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my mornings at his +rooms had become a necessity for me. He received me cordially, as usual, +but of our visit of the previous evening--not a word! As though he had +taken water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the pages +of the last number of the _Telescope._ + +A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to be Mr. +Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been censured by his father +the evening before. + +He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked dissipated and +unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on his unclean face, and an +expression of fatigue in his swollen eyes. He was like his father, only +his features were smaller and not without a certain prettiness. But in +this very prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a +very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's coat, one +of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked of tobacco. + +'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar twitchings +of the head and shoulders which I have always noticed in spoilt and +conceited young men. 'I meant to go to the University, but here I am. +Sort of oppression on my chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across +the room, listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his +trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + +'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to each +other. We were both students, but were in different faculties. + +'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior smiled, +again not without a certain prettiness, though he showed a set of bad +teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. Yes'--he lighted a cigar and cleared +his throat--'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + +'Where's he going?' + +'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You know the +black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + +'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed Fustov. + +Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our den +yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + +'As usual.' + +'And _she_... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with his head in +my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + +'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + +'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + +Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round his head, +gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat hoarsely. + +I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as though giving +me to understand that it was no use talking to such a dolt. + + +XI + + +Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately and +through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, of a certain +Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of him, of the new +professor, R., whom he called a brute. 'Because, only fancy, what a +monstrous notion! Every lecture he begins with calling over the +students' names, and he's reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your +liberals locked up in custody!' and turning at last his full face and +whole body towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, +half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, Alexander +Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round somehow?... You play +duets with him, you know.... Here he gives me five miserable blue notes +a month.... What's the use of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he +goes on about my not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, +and then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like _some +people_.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with peculiar +emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's no use his whining +about hard times, there's no taking me in. No fear! He's made a snug +little pile!' + +Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + +'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if you like... +meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + +'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added Viktor, +scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, 'you might hand over +five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the same to you.... What's the blessed +total I owe you?' + +'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + +'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred and ten. I'll +pay it all in a lump.' + +Fustov went into the next room, brought back a twenty-five-rouble note +and handed it in silence to Viktor. The latter took it, yawned with his +mouth wide open, grumbled thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up +from the sofa. + +'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn in to the +"Italie."' + +He moved towards the door. + +Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with himself. + +'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor Ivanitch?' he asked +at last. + +Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + +'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets one. An +awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it you one of these +days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer affair. But, I say, the +governor, you won't forget about the governor, please! His hide is +thick, of course--German, and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you +can get through it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! +Dad's afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her brats! But +there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + +'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as the door +had slammed-to. + +His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned away from +me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + + +XII + + +All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about Susanna, and +about her relations. I had a vague feeling of something like a family +drama. As far as I could judge, my friend was not indifferent to +Susanna. But she? Did she care for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And +altogether, what sort of creature was she? These questions were +continually recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told +me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the solution of them. +It ended in my setting off the next day alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + +I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I found +myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear even, very likely,' +flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to stop with the repulsive veteran +and his cook of a wife.... And indeed, even if she does show herself, +what of it? She won't even take part in the conversation.... She was +anything but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I +come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page ran to +announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after two or three +wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard the heavy shuffling of +slippers, the folding-door was slightly opened, and in the crack between +its two halves was thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and +grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not +immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once recognise +me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes narrower, and from +his opening mouth, there burst, together with a guffaw, the exclamation: +'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? Pray walk in!' + +I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to me that +this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly wishing me at the +devil. There was nothing to be done, however. He led me into the +drawing-room, and in the drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, +bending over an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy +eyes, and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... It was +a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to nervous people. There +was no one else in the room. + +'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on the haunch, +'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy upon: we're at our +accounts. My spouse has no great head for arithmetic, and I, I must own, +try to spare my eyes. I can't read without spectacles, what am I to do? +Let the young people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. +But there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in catching +fleas, he-he!' + +Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + +'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great matter if +you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was wearing a very old, +almost childish, frock with short sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a +stickler for ceremony, and I should like just to clear up last week.... +You don't mind?'--he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony with +you, eh?' + +'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + +'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar Alexey +Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for business, but a minute +for recreation!" We'll devote one minute only to that same business... +ha-ha! What about that thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in +a low voice, turning his back on me. + +'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was with your +leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + +'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. 'I'm on the +spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's had that seventeen +roubles?' + +'The upholsterer.' + +'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + +'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, and planting +a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on his nose, he began +passing his finger along the lines. 'The upholsterer,.. the +upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money out of doors! Nothing pleases +you better!... Wie die Croaten! A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added +aloud, and he turned round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles +off his nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details +later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that account-book, +and come back to us and enchant our kind guest's ears with your musical +accomplishments, to wit, playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + +Susanna turned away her head. + +'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a great +pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I would not for +anything in the world be a trouble...' + +'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, eins, zwei, +drei!' + +Susanna made no response, and went out. + + +XIII + + +I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly reappeared. She had +not even changed her dress, and sitting down in a corner, she looked +twice intently at me. Whether it was that she was conscious in my manner +to her of the involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more +than curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or whether +she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any way, she suddenly went +to the piano, and laying her hand irresolutely on the keys, and turning +her head a little over her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would +like her to play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, +taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. I loved +music from childhood, but at that time I had but little comprehension of +it, and very slight knowledge of the works of the great masters, and if +Mr. Ratsch had not grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder +dieser Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had chosen. It +was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated sonata in F minor, opus +57. Susanna's playing impressed me more than I can say; I had not +expected such force, such fire, such bold execution. At the very first +bars of the intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I +felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, which +instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with sudden flight +upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very end. I kept, wanting--and +not daring--to sigh. I was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her +face; I saw only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down +on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her delicate arms +and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, moving. The last notes +died away. I sighed at last. Susanna still sat before the piano. + +'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, listened with +attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the fashion nowadays. Only, +why not play correctly? Eh? Put your finger on two notes at once--what's +that for? Eh? To be sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! +Turns it out hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + +Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of her face +in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the downcast eyelid, an +unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the little ear was red under the +lock pushed behind it. + +'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' pursued Mr. +Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the late Field they were +all--tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And +his own compositions the finest things! But all those now +"tloo-too-too," and "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for +beginners. Da braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no +matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' (Ivan +Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) 'But I don't say +that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played well, and oughtn't to be hurt +by my remarks.' + +'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, and her lips +were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan Demianitch, you know, cannot +hurt me.' + +'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'--Mr. Ratsch turned to +me--'don't you imagine, my young friend, that that comes from our +excessive good-nature and meekness of spirit; it's simply that we fancy +ourselves so highly exalted that--oo-oo!--we can't keep our cap on our +head, as the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can +touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + +I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest spite, seemed +as it were boiling over in every word he uttered.... And long it must +have been rankling! It choked him. He tried to conclude his tirade with +his usual laugh, and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna +did not let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, +raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, stared straight +at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open eyes the hatred of long +years lay smouldering with dim, unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + +'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, with an +effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to suggest that I noticed +nothing, 'and so it is not surprising that you do not agree in your +opinions.... But, Ivan Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... +the side of the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I +must confess nothing in music has ever made such an impression on me as +the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just played us.' + +Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + +'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from the fit of +coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? We don't want that at +all! Freedom for the free, salvation for the saved! But as to the two +generations, that's right enough; we old folks find it hard to get on +with you young people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: +neither in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna +Ivanovna?' + +Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + +'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not agree, and +cannot agree,' she responded, and something menacing seemed to flit over +her brows, while her lips were faintly trembling as before. + +'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a philosopher! I'm not +capable of... rising so superior! I'm a plain man, swayed by +prejudices--oh yes!' + +Susanna smiled again. + +'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able to place +yourself above what are called prejudices.' + +'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + +'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + +Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + +'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + +'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + +There followed a brief silence. + +'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare you... +such insolence...' + +Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and still +holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on them with her +fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She seemed to challenge him to +conflict, to stand up to meet him. Her face was changed; it became +suddenly, in one instant, extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a +sort of bright, cold brilliance--the brilliance of steel--gleamed in her +lustreless eyes; the lips that had been quivering were compressed in one +straight, mercilessly stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he +gazed blankly, and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to +say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran of the year +twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake about that. + +Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though calling upon me +to witness her victory, and the humiliation of her foe, and, smiling +once more, she walked out of the room. + +The veteran remained a little while motionless in his arm-chair; at +last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, he roused himself, got +up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, laughed his noisy guffaw. + +'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've been living +with that young lady, and yet she never can see when I'm joking, and +when I'm in earnest! And you too, my young friend, are a little puzzled, +I do believe.... Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + +'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling of some +alarm and disgust. + +'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he repeated, +stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied me into the passage. +'I may be a tiresome person, knocked about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a +good-hearted fellow, 'pon my soul, I am!' + +I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed with all +speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + + +XIV + + +'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I returned +homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a wretch of a man, and +she's a good girl. But what has there been between them? What is the +reason of this continual exasperation? What was the meaning of those +hints? And how suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + +Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to see +Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had only just been +licensed for performance after being first disfigured by the censors' +mutilations. We warmly applauded Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember +what actor took the part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was +indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a Hungarian jacket, +and boots with tassels, and came on later in a frockcoat of the colour +'flamme du punch,' then in fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as +suitable as it would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that +we were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, +probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was accepted as +correct and I believe it is acted in just the same way to-day. One of +the guests hopped excessively high, while his wig flew from side to +side, and the public roared with laughter. As we were coming out of the +theatre, we jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + +'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. 'How was +it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You must come and have +supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the supper!' + +Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of mind. His +little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and there were spots of +red on his face. + +'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + +'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little aside, and +pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle of the red and blue +notes then in use waved them in the air. + +Fustov was surprised. + +'Has your governor been so liberal?' + +Viktor chuckled. + +'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on your +intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose the old +skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, "if you like. Up to +twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you hear, inclusive! No, sir, this +was a gift from God in my destitution. A lucky chance.' + +'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + +Viktor frowned. + +'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a guardsman. He +only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a chain of circumstances! +It's worth telling... only this isn't the place. Come along to Yar's; +not a couple of steps. I'll stand the show, as I said!' + +We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without making any +objection. + + +XV + + +At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was served, champagne +was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting no detail, how he had in a +certain 'gay' house met this officer of the guards, a very nice chap and +of good family, only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made +friends, how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game of +'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to nothing, and with +the condition that the officer's winnings should go to the benefit of +Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his own benefit; how afterwards they had got +on to betting on the games. + +'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, 'I +hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at +first I was completely cleaned out.... A nice position! Only then--in +answer to whose prayers I can't say--fortune smiled. The other fellow +began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no time he'd lost +seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing, +but I'm not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I +popped on my hat and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie +with the governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another +bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + +We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing +with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his +society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being +very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more +loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making +on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and +his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and +after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a +badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging +expression on his distorted face. + +'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you please, what +do you look down on me for?' + +'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + +'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down on me, and +that person does too' (he pointed at me with his finger), 'so there! As +though you were yourself remarkable for such high and exalted +principles, and weren't just as much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse +even. Still waters... you know the proverb?' + +Fustov turned rather red. + +'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + +'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly everything +that's going on under my nose.... And I have nothing against it: first +it's not my principle to interfere, and secondly, my sister Susanna +Ivanovna hasn't always been so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down +on me?' + +'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! You're +drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the wall. 'He's swindled +some fool of his money, and now he's telling all sorts of lies!' + +Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his legs, which +were hanging over its arm. + +'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for with the +money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for lying. It's not my +fault that in her past Susanna Ivanovna...' + +'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your tongue... or...' + +'Or what?' + +'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + +'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge in flight. +He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! It stings--the truth +does, it seems!' + +'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his habitual +coolness and self-possession. + +'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + +'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted after us, 'he +despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + +Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had difficulty in +keeping up with him. All at once he stopped short and turned sharply +back. + +'Where are you going?' I asked. + +'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, God knows +what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see each other to-morrow. +Good-bye!' + +And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's hotel. + +Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, on going to +his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the country to his uncle's, +near Moscow. I inquired if he had left no note for me, but no note was +forth-coming. Then I asked the servant whether he knew how long +Alexander Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a +little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate Fustov's +exact address, and sauntered home, meditating deeply. This unexpected +absence from Moscow, in the winter, completed my utter perplexity. My +good aunt observed to me at dinner that I seemed continually expecting +something, and gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it +for the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'êtes pas amoureux?' she +cried at last, having previously got rid of her companions. But I +reassured her: no, I was not in love. + + +XVI + + +Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the Ratschs'. I +fancied that in their house I should be sure to find a solution of all +that absorbed my mind, that I could not make out.... But I should have +had to meet the veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous +evening--the February wind was howling angrily outside, the frozen snow +tapped at the window from time to time like coarse sand flung by a +mighty hand--I was sitting in my room, trying to read. My servant came, +and, with a mysterious air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I +was surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a late +hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door opened and with swift +step there walked in a woman, muffled up in a light summer cloak and a +yellow shawl. Abruptly she cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were +covered with snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so +astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to the window, +and leaning her shoulder against the wall, remained motionless; only her +bosom heaved convulsively and her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath +came with a faint moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no +slight trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my youth +and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes the fate of a whole +life was being decided--a bitter and terrible fate. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + +She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her voice failed +her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her heavy coils of black +hair fell about her face.... The snow had not melted from off it. + +'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, on the +sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + +'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to the +window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You could not +expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + +She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her eyes with a +violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, devouring sobs, filled the +room. I felt a tightness at my heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had +seen Susanna only twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but +I had regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at once +these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only weeps like that +in the presence of death! + +I stood like one condemned to death myself. + +'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, wiping +first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. I've come to +you....' She was still sobbing, but without tears. 'I've come.... You +know that Alexander Daviditch has gone away?' + +In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she glanced at +me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of course, you will have +pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There was no other course left her then! + +I did not know what answer to make.... + +'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' Susanna was +saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to question me; he thought I +should not tell him all the truth, he could think that of me! As though +I had ever deceived him!' + +She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch with her +nail the patterns of ice that covered the window-pane. I went hastily +into the next room, and sending my servant away, came back at once and +lighted another candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... +I was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the +window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how lightly she +was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a broad leather belt, +that was all. I went up to her, but she did not take any notice of me. + +'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying softly from +side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me this last... last blow!' +She turned suddenly to me. 'You know his address?' + +'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at his house. +He told me nothing of his intention; I had not seen him for two +days--went to inquire and he had already left Moscow.' + +'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him then that he +has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He did not talk to you of me, +I dare say, but he talked to me about you. Write... ah, write to him to +come back quickly, if he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find +me!...' + +Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was quieter +altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful than the previous +sobs. + +'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on her clasped +hands. + +A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp whistle and a +thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the room.... The candles +flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I begged her to sit on the sofa. + +'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. Please.' She +huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had found herself a refuge +in the recesses of the window. 'Please.' + +'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your shoes are +soaked.' + +'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + +A panic seized me. + +'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I entreat +you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? You will see, every +thing will be cleared up, some misunderstanding... some unlooked-for +chance.... You will see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I +will write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... Is it +possible!' + +'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same subdued +voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to you, to a stranger, if +I had not known I should not long be living? Ah, all my past has been +swept away beyond return! You see, I could not bear to die so, in +solitude, in silence, without saying to some one, "I've lost every +thing... and I'm dying.... Look!"' + +She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I forget that +head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out look, those dark, +disordered tresses against the pale window-pane, even the grey, narrow +gown, under every fold of which throbbed such young, passionate life! + +Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + +'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... You must +live!' + +She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + +'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both her hands. +'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to suffer, too much! I +lived through it.... I hoped... but now... when even this is +shattered... when...' + +She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into thought. The +tragic line, which I had once noticed about her lips, came out now still +more clearly; it seemed to spread across her whole face. It seemed as +though some relentless hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for +ever on this lost soul. + +She was still silent. + +'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with anything; +'he will come back, I assure you!' + +Susanna looked at me again. + +'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + +'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come back!' + +'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come back, I +cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of faith....' + +She clutched at her head. + +'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is it all? +What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am going mad!...' + +Her eyes came to a rest. + +'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to remind +her. + +She started. + +'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' She +hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little manuscript +book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran away.... But he +believed... he believed him!' + +I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would not +mention him, would not utter his detested name. + +'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you suppose +that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with that person?' + +'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, and bragged +of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! Here, here, take it,' +she went on, thrusting the manuscript into my hand, 'read it, send it to +him, burn it, throw it away, do what you like, as you please.... But I +can't die like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must +go.' + +She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + +'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, what a +storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And your home is not +near here. Let me at least go for a carriage, for a sledge....' + +'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me and taking +up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's sake! or... I can't +answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a dark abyss under my feet.... +Don't come near me, don't touch me!' With feverish haste she put on her +cloak, arranged her shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy +people, for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever cared +for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; one man loved +me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but death is all about me, +death and no escape! Now it is my turn.... Don't come after me,' she +cried shrilly. 'Don't come! don't come!' + +I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, I heard the +slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the window panes shook +again under the violent onslaught of the blast. + +I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life in those +days: I had had no experience of passion nor of suffering, and had +rarely witnessed any manifestation of strong feeling in others.... But +the sincerity of this suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it +had not been for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I +had dreamed it all--it was all so unlikely, and swooped by like a +passing storm. I was till midnight reading the manuscript. It consisted +of several sheets of letter-paper, closely covered with a large, +irregular writing, almost without an erasure. Not a single line was +quite straight, and one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited +trembling of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the +manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + + +XVII + +MY STORY + + +I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest +recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the country house +of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, in a small room on the +second storey. With me lived my mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead +painter, who had come from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an +extraordinarily beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, +that sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at her, I +was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I would burst into tears +and rush to embrace her. I had tutors come to me; I had music lessons, +and was called 'miss.' I dined at the master's table together with my +mother. Mr. Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately +manner; he always smelt of _ambre_. I stood in mortal terror of him, +though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy hand to kiss under +its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was elaborately courteous, but he +talked little even with her. He would say two or three affable words, to +which she promptly made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit +looking about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of Spanish +snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms of the Empress +Catherine on it. + +My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I learnt then, +from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky was +my father, and almost on the same day, my mother, by his command, was +married to Mr. Ratsch, who was something like a steward to him. I was +utterly unable to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was +bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the strain, my +mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, mamma,' I asked her, +'that scented bogey' (that was my name for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my +father?' My mother was terribly scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never +speak to any one of that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a +word!'... she repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her +bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That prohibition of +my mother's I understood.... I understood that I must be silent, that my +mother begged my forgiveness! + +My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love my mother, +and she did not love him. He married her for money, and she was obliged +to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably considered that in this way everything +had been arranged for the best, _la position était régularisée_. I +remember the day before the marriage my mother and I--both locked in +each other's arms--wept almost the whole morning--bitterly, +bitterly--and silently. It is not strange that she was silent.... What +could she say to me? But that I did not question her shows that unhappy +children learn wisdom sooner than happy ones... to their cost. + +Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, and even by +degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did not talk to me... but +morning and evening, after flicking the snuff from his jabot with two +fingers, he would with the same two fingers--always icy cold--pat me on +the cheek and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also +smelling of _ambre_, which I never ate. At twelve years old I +became his reader---_sa petite lectrice_. I read him French books +of the last century, the memoirs of Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, +Helvetius, Voltaire's correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course +without understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, he +ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien remarquable!' +Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He had lived in Paris till +the Revolution, remembered Marie Antoinette, and had received an +invitation to Trianon to see her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, +according to his account, wore very large buttons--_exagéré en +tout_, and was altogether a man of _mauvais ton, en dépit de sa +naissance!_ Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that time; but +two or three times a year, addressing himself to the crooked old +emigrant whom he had taken into his house, and called for some unknown +reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, +the impromptu he had once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de +Polignac. I remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a +comparison between the Russians and the French: + + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austères + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' + + +'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every time +exclaim. + +Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: his cheeks +were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and immobile, his eyes +agreeable and expressive, clear, black eyes, perfect agate. He was not +at all unreasonable, and was very courteous with every one, even with +the servants.... But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy +I always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his presence! Ah, +I was not to blame for them!... I was not to blame for what they had +made of me.... + +Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far from the +big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a cheerless life I led +there. She soon gave birth to a son, Viktor, this same Viktor whom I +have every right to think and to call my enemy. From the time of his +birth my mother never regained her health, which had always been weak. +Mr. Ratsch did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of +good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air and tried +to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he was cruel and rude. I +felt relief when I retired from Ivan Matveitch's presence; but my own +home too I was glad to leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed +from one shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I would +run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep snow, in a thin +frock--run to the big house to read to Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be +glad to go.... But when I was there, when I saw those great cheerless +rooms, the bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and +heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the white jabot and +white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over his fingers, with a +_soupçon_ of powder (so his valet expressed it) on his combed-back +hair, I felt choked by the stifling scent of _ambre_, and my heart +sank. Ivan Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall +behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, with a +bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a sumptuous Hebrew +costume, and simply covered with precious stones, with diamonds.... I +often stole a glance at this picture, but only later on I learned that +it was the portrait of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan +Matveitch's request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had +he succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! Loved +that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! Love him!' And yet, +when I recalled some of my mother's glances, some half-uttered phrases +and unconscious gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated +with horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such feelings! + +Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or four hours +together.... So much reading in such a loud voice was harmful to me. Our +doctor was anxious about my lungs and even once communicated his fears +to Ivan Matveitch. But the old man only smiled--no; he never smiled, but +somehow sharpened and moved forward his lips--and told him: 'Vous ne +savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette jeunesse.' 'In former +years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... the doctor ventured to observe. +Ivan Matveitch smiled as before. 'Vous rêvez, mon cher,' he interposed: +'le commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache à chaque mot. J'aime les +voix jeunes.' + +And I still went on reading, though my cough was very troublesome in the +mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan Matveitch made me play the +piano. But music always had a soporific influence on his nerves. His +eyes closed at once, his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, +'C'est du Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan Matveitch +looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had succeeded in overcoming +in himself 'la grossière lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault +with him for one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When +Ivan Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would offer me +'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped by.... + +And then one night--a night never to be forgotten!--a terrible calamity +fell upon me. My mother died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. +Oh, what a sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down +upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with death! My poor +mother! Strange were our relations; we passionately loved each other... +passionately and hopelessly; we both as it were treasured up and hid +from each other our common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, +though we knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even of +the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to me, and she +never complained in words, though her whole being was nothing but one +dumb complaint. We avoided all conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I +kept hoping that the hour would come, and she would open her heart at +last, and I too should speak out, and both of us would be more at +ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, shrinking temper, +illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and most of all the eternal +question,--what is the use? and the relentless, unbroken flowing away of +time, of life.... All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the +words which would have loosed us from the burden of our secret--even the +last dying words of leave-taking--I was not destined to hear from my +mother! All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, 'Susanna +Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you her blessing!' and +then the pale hand stretched out from the heavy counterpane, the +agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... Oh, enough! enough! + +With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity I looked +next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the face of my father... +yes, my father! In my dead mother's writing-case were found his letters. +I fancied he looked a little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was +stirring in that heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to +his room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to read: +'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur l'histoire de France de +Mably, à la page 74... là où nous avons ètè interrompus.' And he had +not even had my mother's portrait moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed +call me to him, and giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he +observed: 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mère vous a privée de votre appui +naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter sur ma protection,' but with +the other hand he gave me at once a slight push on the shoulder, and, +with the sharpening of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he +added, 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you +know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + +Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in all its +glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat on the new grave. I +did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was filling my brain: 'Do you +hear, mother? He means to extend his protection to me, too!' And it +seemed to me that my mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which +it instinctively called up on my lips. + +At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to wring--not a +confession... no, indeed! but, at least, one warm word of kinship from +Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know what he was, and how little he was like +all that I pictured in my dreams as a _father_!... But I was so +lonely, so alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave +me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him for +something?' + +Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the monotonous round of +life, marked out and arranged for us. Viktor was growing into a boy. I +was eight years older and would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. +Ratsch opposed my doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep +strict watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow me +to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One day Mr. Ratsch +came into my room, perturbed, excited, and angry. On the previous +evening unpleasant rumours had reached me about my stepfather; the +servants were talking of his having been caught embezzling a +considerable sum of money, and taking bribes from a merchant. + +'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the table with his +fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan Matveitch.' + +'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + +'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm accused... +well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to eat, and you, too.' + +'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + +'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + +'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + +'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. Do you mean +to tell me you don't understand that?' + +He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks simply burning. +Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged in a rush upon me, drowning +me. + +'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at last--my own +voice seemed strange to me--'and I am not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I +will not ask him for anything. Bread, or no bread!' + +Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his fists. + +'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. 'I won't +forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for him, and, I was told, +shook his cane at him, the very cane which he had once exchanged with +the Due de la Rochefoucauld, and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and +extortioner! I put you outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak +Russian at all, and despised our 'coarse jargon,' _ce jargon vulgaire +et rude_. Some one once said before him, 'That same's self-understood.' +Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and often afterwards quoted the phrase +as an example of the senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. +'What does it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in Russian, +with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply that's understood, and why +same and self?' + +Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did not even +deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept his word: he never +forgot it. + +I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was low-spirited, +depressed, his health broke down a little. His fresh, rosy face grew +yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front tooth. He quite ceased going out, +and gave up the reception-days he had established for the peasants, +without the assistance of the priest, _sans le concours du clergé_. +On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in the habit of going in to the +peasants in the hall or on the balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, +and putting his lips to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a +speech something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even as I +am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We are all _brothers_; +at our birth we are equal; I drink your health!' He bowed to them, and +the peasants bowed to him, but only from the waist, no prostrating +themselves to the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were +entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no longer +showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he interrupted my reading with +exclamations: 'La machine se détraque! Cela se gâte!' Even his +eyes--those bright, stony eyes--began to grow dim and, as it were, +smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and breathed hard in his sleep. His +manner with me was unchanged; only a shade of chivalrous deference began +to be perceptible in it. He never failed to get up--though with +difficulty--from his chair when I came in, conducted me to the door, +supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and instead of Suzon began +to call me sometimes, 'ma chère demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' +M. le Commandeur died two years after my mother's death; his death +seemed to affect Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had +disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later years M. le +Commandeur's sole service had consisted in crying, 'Bien joué, mal +réussi!' every time Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards +with Mr. Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed him +at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le Commandeur, +c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses _Lettres Persanes_?' he had +still, sometimes dropping a spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded +profoundly: 'Ah, Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand écrivain, monsieur, +un grand écrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch told him that 'les +théophilanthropes ont eu pourtant du bon!' the old man cried in an +excited voice, 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the +course of twenty years in learning to pronounce his patron's name +correctly), 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de +cette secte, ce La Reveillère Lepeaux était un bonnet rouge!' 'Non, +non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and rolling together a pinch of +snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out +eu du bon, ils out eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of +Ivan Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his knowledge to +himself. + +Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a good face on +it. One day, three weeks before his death, he had a violent attack of +giddiness just after dinner. He sank into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' +and pulling himself together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to +Petersburg to his sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no +intercourse for twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a +neighbour paid him a visit--a German, a Catholic--once a distinguished +physician, who was living in retirement in his little place in the +country. He was very rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always +received him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect for +him. He was almost the only person in the world he did respect. The old +man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a priest, but Ivan Matveitch +responded that 'ces messieurs et moi, nous n'avons rien à nous dire,' +and begged him to change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he +gave his valet orders to admit no one in future. + +Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there were blue +patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and stiff, his jaw hung +down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he said, with difficulty articulating +the consonants, but still trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous +allez peut-être bientót rester seule. Soyez toujours sage et vertueuse. +C'est la dernière récommandation d'un'--he coughed--'d'un vieillard qui +vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommandé à mon frère et je ne doute pas +qu'il ne respecte mes volontés....' He coughed again, and anxiously felt +his chest. 'Du reste, j'esèpre encore pouvoir faire quelque chose pour +vous... dans mon testament.' This last phrase cut me to the heart, like +a knife. Ah, it was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan +Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling--to a feeling of grief +or gratitude--what was expressed in my face, and as though wishing to +comfort me, he patted me on the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, +gently repelling me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous +sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. Ce n'est +qu'une précaution que j'ai cru devoir prendre.... Allez!' + +Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's death, I longed +to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! your daughter!' But I thought +in those words, in that cry of the heart, he would doubtless hear +nothing but a desire to assert my rights, my claims on his property, on +his money.... Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to +this man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in whose +eyes I was of so little account that he did not even trouble himself to +ascertain whether I was aware of my parentage! Or, perhaps, he +suspected, even knew it, and did not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite +saying of his, almost the only Russian expression he ever used), did not +care to deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! Let +him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her mother! Let him +carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I swore he should not hear +from my lips the word which must have something of a sweet and holy +sound in every ear! I would not say to him father! I would not forgive +him for my mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of +that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt no need of +it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should not, he should not! + +God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my heart would +not have softened, whether I should not have overcome my shyness, my +shame, and my pride... but it happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with +my mother. Death carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was +again Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to Ivan +Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last dying gestures, +which had left such a vivid impression on my memory at my mother's +bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged pillows lay a sort of withered, +dark-coloured doll, with sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I +shrieked with horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways +against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, and found +myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + +I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the bedroom, at a +violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan Matveitch not in the bed, but a +few feet from it. And that he was sitting huddled up on the floor, and +that twice over he repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for +you!' And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe that. Was +it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, and such a homely old +Russian saying too! + +For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival of the new +master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders that nothing was to +be touched, no one was to be discharged, till he had looked into +everything in person. All the doors, all the furniture, drawers, +tables--all were locked and sealed up. All the servants were downcast +and apprehensive. I became suddenly one of the most important persons in +the house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as 'the +young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to take a new +significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar emphasis. It began to +be whispered that 'the old master had died suddenly, and hadn't time to +send for a priest, indeed and he hadn't been at confession for many a +long day; but still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + +Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. He did not +affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he would not impose upon +me, but his face wore an expression of sulky resignation. 'You see, I +give in,' he seemed to say. Every one showed me deference, and tried to +please me... while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could +only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were hurting me. At +last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + +Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, and his +whole life had taken a completely different turn. He was a government +official in Petersburg, filling an important position.... He had married +and been left early a widower; he had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch +was like his brother, only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round +bald head, bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more +prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he spoke of even +after his death as a French philosopher, and sometimes bluntly as a +queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost invariably talked Russian, loudly +and fluently, and he was constantly laughing, completely closing his +eyes as he did so and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though +he were shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went +into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from every one. +The very first day of his arrival he ordered a service with holy water, +and sprinkled everything with water, all the rooms in the house, even +the lofts and the cellars, in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel +the Voltairean and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan +Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was even +banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was inflicted on others; +the old valet--he was a Turk, knew French, and had been given to Ivan +Matveitch by the late field-marshal Kamensky--received his freedom, +indeed, but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, 'as +an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be a harsh master; +many probably regretted the late owner. + +'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit with age, +wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see that the linen put +out was clean, and that the rooms smelt sweet, and that the servants' +voices weren't heard in the passages--God forbid! For the rest, you +might do as you pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! +Ah, it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + +Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in the +position in which I had been placed for a few days against my own +will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan Matveitch's papers, not a +line written for my benefit. At once every one seemed in haste to avoid +me.... I am not speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry +with me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived them. + +One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at the altar, +Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had seen him by glimpses, +and he seemed not to have noticed me. He received me in his study, +standing at the window. He was wearing an official uniform with two +stars. I stood still, near the door; my heart was beating violently from +fear and from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I +wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, glancing first at +my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. The look was like a slap in the +face. 'I wished to see you to inform you of my decision, and to assure +you of my unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised +his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my brother's +reader you may always reckon on my... my consideration. I am... of +course convinced of your good sense and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, +your stepfather, has already received from me the necessary +instructions. To which I must add that your attractive exterior seems to +me a pledge of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went +off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended exactly... but I +suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and at that moment I fully +realised how utterly forsaken and alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went +with short, firm steps to the table, took a roll of notes out of the +drawer, and putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from +me for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; but +good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the roll +mechanically: I should have taken anything he had offered me, and going +back to my own room, a long while I wept, sitting on my bed. I did not +notice that I had dropped the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +found it and picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, +kept it for himself. + +An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in those days. +After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, he became a great +favourite, and soon after received the position of head steward. From +that time dates his cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it +was an effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became a +habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. Semyon +Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he called himself 'a +true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the European dress, which he wore +however. He sent away to a remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan +Matveitch had spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known +how to prepare pickled giblets. + +Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the responses +with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were brought together to dance +and sing choruses, he would join in their songs too, and beat time with +his feet, and pinch their cheeks.... But he soon went back to +Petersburg, leaving my stepfather practically in complete control of the +whole property. + +Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, and I gave +myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately Mr. Ratsch was very +fully occupied, but he took every opportunity to make me feel his +hostility; as he had promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He +ill-treated me, made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon +Matveitch, and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to +obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he meant to +tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you mean by those mutinous +eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, drinking his beer, and slapping +the table with his hand. 'You think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, +so you must be all right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a +sheep too!' My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was +growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more frequently to +stir within it. I passed nights without sleep and without a light, +thinking, thinking incessantly; and in the darkness without and the +gloom within, a fearful determination began to shape itself. The arrival +of Semyon Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + +No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring in +unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the Alexander ribbon, +and they had presented him with a snuff-box. Discontented with the +government, which had failed to appreciate his talents, and with +Petersburg society, which had shown him little sympathy, and did not +share his indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and +devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived alone. His +son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the holidays for the New Year. +My stepfather was scarcely ever out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still +stood high in his good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for +me then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start a paper +factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of manufacturing work, and +Semyon Matveitch was aware of the fact; but then my stepfather was an +active man (the favourite expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That +was just what Semyon Matveitch used to call him--'my Araktcheev!' +'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there is zeal, I +myself will direct it.' In the midst of his numerous occupations--he had +to superintend the factory, the estate, the foundation of a +counting-house, the drawing up of counting-house regulations, the +creation of new offices and duties--Semyon Matveitch still had time to +attend to me. + +I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to play the +piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less than his brother; he +praised and thanked me, however, and next day I was invited to dine at +the master's table. After dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long +conversation with me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, +though there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at me +so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his eyes, I did not +like their open expression, their clear glance.... It always seemed to +me that this very openness concealed something evil, that under that +clear brilliance it was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my +reader,' Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and setting +himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank God, not blind yet, +and can read myself; but coffee will taste better to me from your little +hands, and I shall listen to your playing with pleasure.' From that day +I always went over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in +the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was in favour: +it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon Matveitch, I am bound to own, +showed me a certain respect, but in the man there was, I felt it, +something that repelled and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed +itself not in words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his +laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and it seemed +to me that he avoided the subject, not because he did not want to excite +ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, but from another cause, to which I +could not give a definite shape, but which made me blush and feel +bewildered.... Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + +Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are too +painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... But what is +the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he loved me. + +How it came to pass--I am not going to describe that either. From the +very evening when he came into the drawing-room--I was at the piano, +playing a sonata of Weber's when he came in--handsome and slender, in a +velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he was, +straight from the frost outside, and shaking his snow-sprinkled, sable +cap, before he had greeted his father, glanced swiftly at me, and +wondered--I knew that from that evening I could never forget him--I +could never forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his +voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, and in every +sound such a true, honest nature! + +Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced him, but +at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' and sent me away. + +I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights flitting to and +fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched them, I listened to the +new, unfamiliar voices; I was attracted by the cheerful commotion, and +something new, unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next +day before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had come +across to see my stepfather with some message from Semyon Matveitch, and +he found me in our little sitting-room. I was getting up to go; he +detained me. He was very lively and unconstrained in all his movements +and words, but of superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of +Petersburg superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the +officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very freedom of +his manner there was something appealing, almost shamefaced, as though +he were begging you to overlook something. Some people's eyes are never +laughing, even at the moment of laughter; with _him_ it was the +lips that almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes were +almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an hour... what about I +don't remember; I remember only that I looked him straight in the face +all the while, and oh, how delightfully at ease I felt with him! + +In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of music, and he +sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly head on his arm, he +listened intently. He did not once praise me, but I felt that he liked +my playing, and I played with ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting +near his son, looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, +madam,' he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as his +manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away like a canary? +It's enough to make one's head ache. For us old folks you wouldn't exert +yourself so, no fear...' he added in an undertone, and again he sent me +away. Michel followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his +seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried Semyon +Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said something more... I +could not catch his words; but Mr. Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a +corner of the drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he +had brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my ears.... +The same thing, or almost the same thing, was repeated the following +evening... Semyon Matveitch grew suddenly cooler to me. + +Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the big house +in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a room near the +dining-room, which was called the portrait gallery. I followed him, not +without emotion, but with perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I +would have followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no +suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with all the +passion, all the despair of a young creature who not only has no one to +love, but feels herself an uninvited and unnecessary guest among +strangers, among enemies!... Michel said to me--and it was strange! I +looked boldly, directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and +flushed slightly--he said to me that he understood my position, and +sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive his father.... 'As far as +I'm concerned,' he added, 'I beseech you always to trust me, and believe +me, to me you 're a sister--yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand +warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had somehow +expected something else, some other word. I began to thank him. 'No, +please,'--he cut me short--'don't talk like that.... But remember, it's +a brother's duty to defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, +against any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, but I +have seen a good deal already... and among other things, I see through +your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand again, and left me. + +I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. Ratsch from +his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried to ingratiate himself +with him too, but becoming convinced of the uselessness of his efforts, +promptly took up himself an attitude of hostility to him, and not only +did not disguise it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no +opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his regret that +he had been so unlucky as to displease the young heir. Mr. Ratsch had +carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's character; his calculations did not +lead him astray. 'This man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the +very reason that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot +endure him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's head. +They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are readily caught by +that bait, the bait of exclusive personal devotion.... + +Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his Araktcheev.... +He might well have called him another name too. 'You're not one to make +difficulties,' he used to say to him. He had begun in this +condescendingly familiar tone with him from the very first, and my +stepfather would gaze fondly at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop +deprecatingly on one side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as +though to say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + +Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against the table +on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for me to recall those +days, and my blood boils.... But I will tell everything to the end... to +the end! + +A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me during my brief +period of favour. He began to be deferential to me, to be respectfully +familiar with me, as though I had grown sensible, and become more on a +level with him. 'You've done with your airs and graces,' he said to me +one day, as we were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite +right too! All those fine principles and delicate sentiments--moral +precepts in fact--are not for us, young lady, they're not for poor +folks.' + +When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it necessary +to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his sympathy with me, the +latter suddenly redoubled his severity with me; he was continually +following me about, as though I were capable of any crime, and must be +sharply looked after. 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting +without knocking into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his +head; 'I won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up +airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud spirit.' + +And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree had gone +forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear at the dinner-table +for the future without special invitation.... I don't know how all this +would have ended if it had not been for an event which was the final +turning-point of my destiny.... + +Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his head to +break in a young horse, which went well for a while, then began kicking +and flung him out of the sledge.... He was brought home unconscious, +with a broken arm and bruises on his chest. His father was +panic-stricken; he sent for the best doctors from the town. They did a +great deal for Michel; but he had to lie down for a month. He did not +play cards, the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him +to read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended by +Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old capacity of reader. + +Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to Michel +directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table in the +half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a little room out of +the drawing-room, at the further end, on a broad leather sofa in the +Empire style, with a gold bas-relief on its high, straight back. The +bas-relief represented a marriage procession among the ancients. +Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always moved at once, +and his pale face turned towards me: he smiled, his whole face +brightened, he flung back his soft, damp curls, and said to me softly, +'Good-morning, my kind sweet girl.' I took up the book--Walter Scott's +novels were at the height of their fame in those days--the reading of +Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection in my mind.... I +could not help my voice thrilling and quivering as I gave utterance to +Rebecca's speeches. I, too, had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like +hers? Was I not, like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every +time I removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met his +eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. We talked very +little; the door into the drawing-room was invariably open and some one +was always sitting there; but whenever it was quiet there, I used, I +don't know why, to cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he +looked at me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and +shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other then without a +gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came together, ran to meet each +other, as underground streams flow together, unseen, unheard... and +irresistibly. + +'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + +'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + +'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up the table.' + +I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not dare +glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the room, how freely I +had gazed at him! + +I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + +'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an undertone, +also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer me.' + +I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, moved a +pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at him. His head was +stretched a little forward; pale all over, with imploring eyes he signed +towards my hand... + +Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something +instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely breathing, +I took up the knight and moved it right across the board. Michel bent +down swiftly, and catching my fingers with his lips, and pressing them +against the board, he began noiselessly and passionately kissing +them.... I had no power, I had no wish to draw them back; with my other +hand I hid my face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... +oh, what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, I knew, +with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that he was who held my +hand in his power! I knew that he was not a boy, carried away by a +momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, not a military Lovelace, but one of +the noblest, the best of men... and he loved me! + +'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make you shed +other tears than these.' + +He was wrong... he did. + +But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... especially, +especially now? + +Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that Semyon +Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not conceal it from +me. I had no doubt about it myself and I rejoiced, not that he did not +deceive me--he _could not_ deceive--but that he did not try to +delude himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have followed +where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he repeated to me. 'I am +not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is not with Lady Rowena.' + +Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going to see him, +but everything was decided between us. I was already entirely absorbed +in the future; I saw nothing of what was passing around me, as though I +were floating on a glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. +But we were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I noticed +my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his loathsome laugh.... But +that laugh, those eyes as it were emerged for an instant from the +mist... I shuddered, but forgot it directly, and surrendered myself +again to the glorious, swift river... + +On the day before the departure of Michel--we had planned together that +he was to turn back secretly on the way and fetch me--I received from +him through his trusted valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him +at half-past nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched +room, built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that he +absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had twice already +met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the key of the outer door. As +soon as it struck half-past nine I threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, +stepped quietly out of the lodge, and made my way successfully over the +crackling snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood +a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind whistled +shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver passed over me, but I put +the key into the lock, went into the room, closed the door behind me, +turned round... A dark figure became visible against one of the walls, +took a couple of steps forward, stopped... + +'Michel,' I whispered. + +'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a voice, +which seemed to rend my heart... + +Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + +I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + +'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite equal to +stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have to be equal to the +consequences.' + +I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the door... In vain! +Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon Matveitch held me tight. + +'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + +'I tell you you shan't stir!' + +Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness I could not +distinguish his face. I had turned away from him too, but I heard him +breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I felt neither fear nor despair, +but a sort of senseless amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb +like that in the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which +still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious claw.... + +'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's come to +this... Ah, wait a bit!' + +I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I almost +shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and menace burst upon +me... + +'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + +Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not control +myself... I screamed. + +That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little quieter, let +go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps from me, between me and +the door. + +A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily as before. + +'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see that your +morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you are still capable of +listening to the voice of reason. Impulsive folly I can overlook, but +stubborn obstinacy--never! My son...' there was a catch in his +breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? Hasn't he? +Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + +I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost flying into +fury again. + +'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after a brief +pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my daughter-in-law? A pretty +notion! But you're not a child of four years old, and you must be fully +aware that young boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if +only they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could you +suppose that I--a noble gentleman of ancient family, Semyon Matveitch +Koltovsky--would ever give my consent to such a marriage? Or did you +mean to dispense with the parental blessing?... Did you mean to run +away, get married in secret, and then come back, go through a nice +little farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old man +will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + +I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to speak--that +was not in his power. + +He walked up and down a little. + +'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You mustn't think... +don't imagine... I see one must talk to you in a different manner. +Listen; I understand your position. You are frightened, upset.... Pull +yourself together. At this moment I must seem to you a monster... a +despot. But put yourself in my position too; how could I help being +indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you that I am +not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember how I treated you on my +arrival here and afterwards till... till lately... till the illness of +Mihail Semyonitch. I don't wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should +have thought simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the +slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + +Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still patted me +lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still ached from his violence, +and was for long after marked with blue bruises. + +'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a little +headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to think, we don't care to +consider what our advantage consists in and where we ought to seek it. +You ask me: where that advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... +It's, maybe, close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of +the family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm a man +at the same time, and you know that very well. Undoubtedly I'm a +practical person and of course cannot tolerate any sentimental nonsense; +expectations that are quite inconsistent with everything, you must of +course dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in +them?--not to speak of the immorality of such a proceeding.... You will +assuredly realise all this yourself, when you have thought it over a +little. And I say, simply and straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine +myself to what I have done for you. I have always been prepared--and I +am still prepared--to put your welfare on a sound footing, to guarantee +you a secure position, because I know your value, I do justice to your +talents, and your intelligence, and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch +stooped down to me a little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... +though I am not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I +understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy matter.' + +These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe my ears. +For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch meant to bribe me +to break with Michel, to pay me 'compensation.'... But what was he +saying? My eyes had begun to get used to the darkness and I could make +out Semyon Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was +walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly before me.... + +'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer please you?' + +'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not understand a +word. + +Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting thin laugh. + +'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young women'--he corrected +himself--'young ladies... young ladies... you all dream of nothing +else... you must have young men! You can't live without love! Of course +not. Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that it's +only young men that can love?... There are some older men, whose hearts +are warmer... and when once an old man does take a fancy to any one, +well--he's simply like a rock! It's for ever! Not like these beardless, +feather-brained young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! +They can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! Yes... yes! +And as for kissing, old men know all about that too, he-he-he...' Semyon +Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, please... your little hand... just as a +proof... that's all....' + +I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him a blow in +the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of decrepit, scared sound, he +almost fell down. There are no words in human language to express how +loathsome and infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had +left me. + +'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get away, Mr. +Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! I, too, am of your +blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I curse the day and the hour +when I was born of that ancient family!' + +'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon Matveitch, +gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very minute when I've caught +you... when you came to meet Misha... eh? eh? eh?' + +But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, desperate was +roused up within me. + +'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the insolence, +you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be so blind as not to +have seen long ago the loathing you arouse in me?... You dare use the +word offer!... Let me out at once, this instant!' + +I moved towards the door. + +'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon Matveitch piped +shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but obviously not able to make up his +mind to come near me.... 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come +here!' + +The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near flew wide +open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted candelabrum in each +hand. His round, red face, lighted up on both sides, was beaming with +the triumph of satisfied revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered +valuable service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I cease +to behold them? + +'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon Matveitch, +turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing to me with a shaking +hand. 'Be so good as to take her home and put her under lock and key... +so that she... can't stir a finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! +Till further orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll +answer for her with your head!' + +Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made Semyon +Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a malignant smile, +moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, approaches a mouse who has no chance +of escape in that way. All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the +man was capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! oh +ignominy! I shivered. + +'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + +He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He saw that I +should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed forward towards the door; +at that instant I had but one thought in my mind, to escape as quickly +as possible from the presence of Semyon Matveitch. + +But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and Ratsch +stopped me and turned me round face to face with his patron. + +'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the brother... +of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a cousin, a first cousin you +could marry? You could? eh? Take her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. +'And remember, keep a sharp look-out! The slightest communication with +her--and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + +Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, he said +nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He closed the +shutters and the doors, and then, as he was finally returning, he bowed +low to me as he had to Semyon Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, +triumphant guffaw! + +'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she didn't catch +her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad idea in its way! It's a +lesson for the future: not to keep up correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How +capitally it has all turned out though!' He went out, and all of a +sudden poked his head in at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? +Hey? I kept my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I +breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... but they +were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched the silken cord off my +dressing-gown, made a noose, and was putting it on my neck, but I flung +the cord aside again at once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What +madness, really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my +life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel wretches! No! +You have not won your game yet! He will save me, he will tear me out of +this hell, he... my Michel!' + +But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and I flung +myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and sobbed.... And only +the thought that my tormentor was perhaps at the door, listening and +triumphing, only that thought forced me to swallow my tears.... + +I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it is evening; +if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I shall not be capable +of taking up the pen again.... I must hasten, hasten to the finish! And +besides, to dwell on the hideous things that followed that dreadful day +is beyond my strength! + +Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an isolated hut, +surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, and kept shut up for six +whole weeks! I was not for one instant alone.... Later on I learnt that +my stepfather had set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his +arrival, that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's note. +I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene had taken place the +next morning between the son and the father.... The father had cursed +him. Michel for his part had sworn he would never set foot in his +father's house again, and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed +at me by my stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch +announced that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the +estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an unpardonable +offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear the brunt of the +_scandal_. Semyon Matveitch recompensed Mr. Ratsch liberally, +however: he gave him the necessary means to move to Moscow and to +establish himself there. Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought +back to the lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The +loss of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived 'thanks +to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage against me more than +ever. + +'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting with +indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got a little too +hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he made a mess of it; now, +of course, his vanity's hurt, there's no setting the mischief right +again now! If you'd only waited a day or two, it'd all have been right +as a trivet; you wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have +stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but their wit is +short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, and that pretty young +gentleman shall smart for it too!' + +I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. Semyon Matveitch +I did not once see again. The separation from his son had been a shock +to him too. Whether he felt remorse or--which is far more likely--wished +to bind me for ever to my home, to my family--my family!--anyway, he +assigned me a pension, which was to be paid into my stepfather's hands, +and to be given to me till I married.... This humiliating alms, this +pension I still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for +me.... + +We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor mother, I would +not have remained two days, not two hours, with my stepfather, after +once reaching the town... I would have gone away, not knowing where... +to the police; I would have flung myself at the feet of the +governor-general, of the senators; I don't know what I would have done, +if it had not happened, at the very moment of our starting from the +country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give me a letter +from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I read over each line, how +many times I covered it with kisses! Michel besought me not to lose +heart, to go on hoping, to believe in his unchanging love; he swore that +he would never belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he +promised to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, he +asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a little.... + +And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not have +agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his will! That +letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my anchor. Sometimes when +my stepfather would begin abusing and insulting me, I would softly lay +my hand on my bosom (I wore Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and +only smile. And the more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, +lighter, and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at last, +by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was going out of my +mind.... Following on this first letter came a second, still more full +of hope.... It spoke of our meeting soon. + +Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can see Mr. +Ratsch coming in--and triumph again, malignant triumph, in his face--and +in his hands a page of the _Invalid_, and there the announcement of +the death of the Captain of the Guards--Mihail Koltovsky. + +What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. Ratsch's +house. He hated me as before--more than before--he had unmasked his +black soul too much before me, he could not pardon me that. But that was +of no consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my own +fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think of him! I had no +interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel died with my name on his +lips.... I was told so by a servant, devoted to him, who had been with +him when he came into the country. The same year my stepfather married +Eleonora Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he +secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... In the +event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + +Two--three--years passed... six years, seven years.... Life has been +passing, ebbing away... while I merely watched how it was ebbing. As in +childhood, on some river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, +and tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking through, +from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, and then you abandon +all your vain efforts, and you are glad instead to watch all that you +had guarded ebbing away to the last drop.... + +So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray of warmth +and light....' + +The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves had been +torn off, and several lines completing the sentence had been crossed +through and blotted out. + + +XVIII + + +The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression made by +Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep all night, and +early in the morning I sent an express messenger to Fustov with a +letter, in which I besought him to come to Moscow as soon as possible, +as his absence might have the most terrible results. I mentioned also my +interview with Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. +After having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all day, +and pondered all the time on what might be happening at the Ratsches'. I +could not make up my mind to go there myself. I could not help noticing +though that my aunt was in a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to +be burnt every minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the +traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never succeed. The +visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late hour, had not been kept +secret from her: her imagination at once pictured a yawning abyss on the +edge of which I was standing, and she was continually sighing and +moaning and murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript +book entitled _Extraits de Lecture_. In the evening I found on the +little table at my bedside the treatise of De Girando, laid open at the +chapter: On the evil influence of the passions. This book had been put +in my room, at my aunt's instigation of course, by the elder of her +companions, who was called in the household Amishka, from her +resemblance to a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, +not to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the following day +was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's coming, of a letter from +him, of news from the Ratsches' house... though on what ground could +they have sent to me? Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit +her.... But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her without +first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression in my letter to +him.... I thought it was strong enough; at last, late in the evening, he +appeared. + + +XIX + + +He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate step. His +face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces of the fatigue of +the journey, there was an expression of astonishment, curiosity, and +dissatisfaction--emotions of which he had little experience as a rule. I +rushed up to him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and +after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed him the +manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very window in which +Susanna had sat two days before, and without a word to me, he fell to +reading it. I at once retired to the opposite corner of the room, and +for appearance' sake took up a book; but I must own I was stealthily +looking over the edge of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he +read rather calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on +his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not stir again. +His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his mouth slightly opened. At +last he finished the manuscript, turned it over, looked round, thought a +little, and began reading it all through a second time from beginning to +end. Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved towards +the door; but he turned round and stopped in the middle of the room. + +'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to speak. + +'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. 'I have +behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed that... Viktor--' + +'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what could he say +to you?' + +Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was ashamed, I saw +that. + +'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor alluded +to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my head. It's the cause +of everything. I began questioning him.... Well, and he--' + +'What did he say?' + +'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... Koltovsky, had +allowed Susanna that pension because... on account of... well, in fact, +by way of damages.' + +I flung up my hands. + +'And you believed him?' + +Fustov nodded. + +'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young one... In +fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + +'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + +'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, savagely,' +he repeated. + +We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was ashamed; but it +was easier for me; I was not ashamed of myself. + + +XX + + +'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued Fustov, +clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm in fault. I see now +what the whole trick was contrived for, with Susanna's marriage they +would lose the pension.... Wretches!' + +I took his hand. + +'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + +'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... early +to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + +'But you... love her, Alexander?' + +Fustov seemed offended. + +'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + +'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + +Fustov stamped impatiently. + +'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared to marry +her--she's been baptized--I'm ready to marry her even now, I'd been +thinking of it, though she's older than I am.' + +At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure was seated +in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had burnt down; it was +dark in the room. I shivered, looked more intently, and saw nothing, of +course, in the window seat; but a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, +anguish and pity, came over me. + +'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I implore you, +go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off till to-morrow! An inner +voice tells me that you really ought to see Susanna to-day!' + +Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + +'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, most +likely they're all in bed.' + +'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a presentiment.... +Please do as I say! Go at once, take a sledge....' + +'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I go now? +To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything will be cleared up.' + +'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that you would +not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only think, imagine, to +make up her mind to come to me... what it must have cost her....' + +'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had apparently +regained his self-possession completely. 'All girls are like that... at +first. I repeat, everything will be all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, +good-bye. I'm tired, and you're sleepy too.' + +He took his cap, and went out of the room. + +'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about it?' I +called after him. + +'I promise.... Good-bye!' + +I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed with my +friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was wandering with Susanna +along underground, damp passages of some sort, and crawling along +narrow, steep staircases, and continually going deeper and deeper down, +though we were trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was +all the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive tones. + + +XXI + + +Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several times.... I +opened my eyes and in the faint light of the solitary candle, I saw +Fustov standing before me. He frightened me. He was staggering; his face +was yellow, almost the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging +down, his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become of +his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a cousin who from +epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov looked like him at that +moment. + +I sat up hurriedly. + +'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + +He made no answer. + +'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + +Fustov gave a slight start. + +'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + +'What of her? Have you seen her?' + +He stared at me. + +'She's no more.' + +'No more?' + +'No. She is dead.' + +I jumped out of bed. + +'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + +Fustov turned his eyes away again. + +'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + +'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + +'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + +'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + +They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + +I seized him by the hand. + +'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + +'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I came straight +to you.' + +My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising an +irrevocable misfortune. + +'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So suddenly! Or +perhaps she took her own life?' + +'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me she died at +midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + +'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive yesterday when I +fancied I saw her in the window, when I entreated him to hasten to +her....' + +'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to Ivan +Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my thought. + +'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we both knew her! +"High-flown," said he, "all girls are like that."... And at that very +minute, perhaps, she was putting to her lips... Can one love any one and +be so grossly mistaken in them?' + +Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, like a guilty +man. + + +XXII + + +I dressed hurriedly. + +'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + +He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the absurdity of +my question. And indeed what was there to do? + +'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound to +ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime concealed. One +may expect anything of those people.... It is all to be thoroughly +investigated. Remember the statement in her manuscript, the pension was +to cease on her marriage, but in event of her death it was to pass to +Ratsch. In any case, one must render her the last duty, pay homage to +her remains!' + +I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. In the midst +of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort of unconscious feeling +of superiority over Fustov had suddenly come to the surface in me.... +Whether from seeing him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, +distracted, shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost +always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, 'you can't +be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come off better than that!' +God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to me almost like a child, and I felt +pity for him, and saw the necessity of severity. I held out a helping +hand to him, stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is +free from condescension. + +But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at me--my +authoritative tone obviously had no effect on him, and to my second +question, 'You're going to them, I suppose?' he replied-- + +'No, I'm not going.' + +'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for yourself, to +investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has left a letter... a document +of some sort....' + +Fustov shook his head. + +'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, to ask you +to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + +Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both hands, and +sobbed bitterly. + +'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, poor girl... +poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + +I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the slightest sympathy +was excited in me by those incontestably sincere sobs. I simply +marvelled that Fustov could cry _like that_, and it seemed to me +that _now_ I knew what a small person he was, and that I should, in +his place, have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If +Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have hated him, have +conceived an aversion for him, but he would not have sunk in my +esteem.... He would have kept his prestige. Don Juan would have remained +Don Juan! Very late in life, and only after many experiences, does a man +learn, at the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to +sympathise with him, and help him without a secret self-congratulation +at his own virtue and strength, but on the contrary, with every humility +and comprehension of the naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + + +XXIII + + +I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the Ratsches'; but +when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock (nothing would induce +Fustov to go with me, he only begged me to give him an exact account of +everything), when round the corner of the street their house glared at +me in the distance with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one +of the windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I +would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, and went +into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the pink cover of the +coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a corner, leaning against the +wall. In one of the adjoining rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous +muttering of the deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the +drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, who murmured +in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the dead?' She indicated the +door of the dining-room. I went in. The coffin stood with the head +towards the door; the black hair of Susanna under the white wreath, +above the raised lace of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up +sidewards, crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful +God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no pity on her, +had denied her--beauty, that would be little--even that peace, that +tender and impressive peace which is often seen on the faces of the +newly dead. The little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the +visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that face! It +looked as though she were on the point of shrieking--a shriek of +despair--and had died so, uttering no sound... even the line between the +brows was not smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back +and clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a brief +interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and attentively at her. +Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. 'That girl died by violence,' I +decided inwardly; 'that's beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at +the dead girl, the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and +uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning again, and +yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, and went out into the +passage. + +In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on the +look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. Beckoning to +me with his hand, he led me to his own room--I had almost said, to his +lair. The room, dark and close, soaked through and through with the sour +smell of stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf +or a fox. + + +XXIV + + +'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external covering.... You +understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' said Mr. Ratsch, directly the +door closed. 'Such a misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was +nothing to notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! +It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; it's what was +to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov the regimental doctor, +Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... you've probably heard of him... a +first-rate medical man, a specialist--' + +'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + +'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, at first +in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to my surprise, with a +perceptible German accent, 'he was always warning me: "Ay, Ivan +Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must be careful! Your stepdaughter has +an organic defect in the heart--hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing +and there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions above +all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my word, with a +young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... ha... ha...' + +Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, but he +recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient guffaw into a +cough. + +And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found out about +him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him whether a doctor was +called in. + +Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + +'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was already +over--abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though they were agreeing' +(Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though they had agreed), 'rupture! +rupture of the heart! That's what, with one voice, they cried out. They +proposed a post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to +that.' + +'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + +'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The procession +will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.... From +here to the church of St. Nicholas on Hen's Legs... what strange names +your Russian churches do have, you know! Then to the last resting-place +in mother earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I +make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the elevation of +your sentiments!...' + +I made haste to nod my head. + +'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has been, as they +say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz aus heiterem Himmel!' + +'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left nothing?' + +'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of paper! Only +fancy, when they called me to her, when they waked me up--she was stiff +already! Very distressing it was for me; she has grieved us all +terribly! Alexander Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he +knows.... They say he is not in Moscow.' + +'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + +'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his sledge +harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming in--the same girl I had +seen in the passage. Her face, still looking half-awake, struck me this +time by the expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when +they know that their masters are in their power, and that they do not +dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. 'Eleonora +Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + +There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other side of the +door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's imperious call: 'Why on +earth don't they put the horses in? You don't catch me trudging off to +the police on foot!' + +'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. 'Eleonora +Karpovna, come here!' + +'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine Toilette +gemacht!' + +'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + +Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck with two +fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned up, and had not yet +done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to her. + +'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, hurriedly pointing +his finger first to the door, then to the window. 'Please, do see to it, +as quick as possible! Der Kerl schreit so!' + +'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' responded +Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the coachman myself, but he's +taken it into his head to give the horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity +to happen so suddenly,' she added, turning to me; 'who could have +expected such a thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + +'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw up his +arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did so, and displaying +most repulsive unmentionables of chamois leather, with buckles on the +belt. 'Rupture of the heart! rupture of the external membrane! +Hypertrophy!' + +'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... Well, so +it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I say again...' And +her coarse-featured face worked a little, her eyebrows rose into the +shape of triangles, and a tiny tear rolled over her round cheek, that +looked varnished like a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young +person who ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... +And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + +'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + +'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she went away, +still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and shedding tears. + +And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a student's coat with +a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily on one side. He barely glanced +at me over his shoulder, shook his collar up, and did not nod to me, for +which I mentally thanked him. + +I went back to Fustov. + + +XXV + + +I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with downcast head and +arms folded across his breast. He had sunk into a state of numbness, and +he gazed around him with the slow, bewildered look of a man who has +slept very heavily and has only just been waked. I told him all about my +visit to Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his wife, +described the impression they had made on me and informed him of my +conviction that the unhappy girl had taken her own life.... Fustov +listened to me with no change of expression, and looked about him with +the same bewildered air. + +'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + +'Yes.' + +'In the coffin?' + +Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + +'In the coffin.' + +Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly rubbed his +hands. + +'Are you cold?' I asked him. + +'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he shook his +head stupidly. + +I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had poisoned +herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the matter could not be +left so.... + +Fustov stared at me. + +'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his eyes wide +and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if it's known about. +They won't bury her. We must let things... alone.' + +This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My friend's +practical sense had not deserted him. + +'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + +'To-morrow.' + +'Are you going?' + +'Yes.' + +'To the house or straight to the church?' + +'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the cemetery.' + +'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and began +crying. It was at these same words that he had broken into sobs in the +morning. I have noticed that it is often so with weeping; as though to +certain words, for the most of no great meaning,--but just to these +words and to no others--it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, +to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity for others +and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once describing before me +the sudden death of her daughter, and she fairly dissolved and could not +go on with her tale as soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, +Fekla. And she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... +sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + +But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by Fustov's tears. +I could not conceive how it was he did not ask me if Susanna had not +left something for him. Altogether their love for one another was a +riddle to me; and a riddle it remained to me. + +After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the sofa, +turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I waited a little, +but seeing that he did not stir, and made no answer to my questions, I +made up my mind to leave him. I am perhaps doing him injustice, but I +almost believe he was asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that +he did not feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be +unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was too +awfully well-balanced! + + +XXVI + + +The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. Fine hail was +falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a slight frost, a thaw was +close at hand, but there were cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind +flitting across in the air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, +cold-catching weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In +a black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, he +fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, shouted up to +the house, and then down into the street, in the direction of the +funeral car with a white catafalque, already standing there with two +hired carriages. Near it four garrison soldiers, with mourning capes +over their old coats, and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up +eyes, were pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long +stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair positively +stood up straight above the red face of Mr. Ratsch, and his voice, that +brazen voice, was cracking from the strain he was putting on it. 'Where +are the pine branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' +he yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The pine! Hand +over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried once more, and dashed +into the house. It appeared that in spite of my punctuality, I was late: +Mr. Ratsch had thought fit to hurry things forward. The service in the +house was already over; the priests--of whom one wore a calotte, and the +other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and oiled his +hair--appeared with all their retinue on the steps. The coffin too +appeared soon after, carried by a coachman, two door-keepers, and a +water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on +the coffin lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled +Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, surrounded +by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor stepped out in a new +uniform with a sword with crape round the handle. The coffin-bearers, +grumbling and altercating among themselves, laid the coffin on the +hearse; the garrison soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began +crackling and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to +the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the fine snow +suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white flies.' Mr. Ratsch +bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the procession started. Besides Mr. +Ratsch's family, there were in all five men accompanying the hearse: a +retired and extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded +Stanislas ribbon--not improbably hired--on his neck; the police +superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man with a meek face and greedy +eyes; a little old man in a fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger +in a tradesman's bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. +The absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such two +aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, and a hunchback +old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her blue nose), the absence of +girl friends and acquaintances struck me at first; but on thinking it +over I realised that Susanna, with her character, her education, her +memories, could not have made friends in the circle in which she was +living. In the church there were a good many people assembled, more +outsiders than acquaintances, as one could see by the expression of +their faces. The service did not last long. What surprised me was that +Mr. Ratsch crossed himself with great fervour, quite as though he were +of the orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the +responses, though only with the notes not with the words. When at last +it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed low, but did not give the +last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the contrary, went through this terrible +ordeal with the utmost composure, and with a deferential inclination of +his person invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as +though offering him entertainment, and picking his children up under the +arms swung them up in turn and held them up to the body. Eleonora +Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, suddenly broke into a roar that +filled the church; but she was soon soothed and continually asked in an +exasperated whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself +aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to convey that he +was out of sympathy with all such customs and was only performing a +social duty. The person who showed the most sympathy was the little old +man in the smock, who had been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in +the Tambov province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know +Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits at the +sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to the church. She had +somehow or other found out that the deceased woman was the very lady who +had paid me a visit, and had been thrown into a state of indescribable +agitation! She could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of +misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange chain of +circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that Susanna had been led +by love for me to commit suicide, and attired in her darkest garments, +with an aching heart and tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of +the soul of the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of +the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her too, and she +too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at me, horror-stricken.... +That elderly spinster, alas! did not regard me with indifference. On +leaving the church, my aunt distributed all her money, more than ten +roubles, among the poor. + +At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. During the +whole service I had not courage to look straight at the poor girl's +distorted face; but every time that my eyes passed by it--'he did not +come, he did not come,' it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were +just going to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain +myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why did you do +it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not come!' I fancied for the +last time.... The hammer was knocking in the nails, and all was over. + + +XXVII + + +We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in number, of +all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than an idle crowd. The +wearisome journey lasted more than an hour. The weather became worse and +worse. Halfway there Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped +gallantly on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped +through the snow when, after the fateful interview with Semyon +Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl whose life he had +ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and eyebrows were edged with snow; +he kept blowing and uttering exclamations, or manfully drawing deep +breaths and puffing out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might +have thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass to +Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript recurred again +to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; we moved up to a freshly +dug grave. The last ceremony was quickly performed; all were chilled +through, all were in haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning +hole; they began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the +energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, did he +fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing himself into an +heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly before him... he could not have +shown more energy if he had been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as +before, held himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and +rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other children +eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and earth was a source of +great enjoyment to them, for which, of course, they were in no way to +blame. A mound began to rise up where the hole had been; we were on the +point of separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in +soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, announced to all +of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited us, and also the 'reverend +clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' which had been arranged at no great +distance from the cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior +restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured friend Sigismund +Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he indicated the assistant of the +police superintendent, and added that for all his grief and his Lutheran +faith, he, Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old +Russian usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the +ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we gentlemen +commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy departed servant!' Mr. +Ratsch's proposal was received with genuine sympathy; 'the reverend +clergy' exchanged expressive glances with one another, while the officer +of roads and highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and +called him a patriot and the soul of the company. + +We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, in the +middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the first storey, stood +two tables laid for dinner, covered with bottles and eatables, and +surrounded by chairs. The smell of whitewash, mingled with the odours of +spirits and salad oil, was stifling and oppressive. The police +superintendent's assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the +clergy in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were crowded +together conspicuously; after the priests the other guests took their +seats; the banquet began. I would not have used such a festive word as +banquet by choice, but no other word would have corresponded with the +real character of the thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, +even slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were emptied, +but sighs too were audible--possibly sighs of digestion, but possibly +also of feeling. There were references to death, allusions to the +brevity of human life, and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The +officer of roads and highways related a military but still edifying +anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, and himself +contributed an interesting fact from the life of the saint, Ivan the +Warrior. The priest with the superbly arranged hair, though his +attention was chiefly engrossed by the edibles, gave utterance to +something improving on the subject of chastity. But little by little all +this changed. Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter +reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected exclamations, +caressing appellations, after the manner of 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart +alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a pig like that'--everything, in fact, of +which the Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes +unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made champagne were +popping, the party had become noisy; some one even crowed like a cock, +while another guest was offering to bite up and swallow the glass out of +which he had just been drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, +suddenly rose from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great +noise before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out with +it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even bawled 'bravo!' and +clapped his hands... but he was already sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch +lifted his glass high above his head, and announced that he proposed in +brief but 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the +noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk (die +irdische Hülle) has soared to heaven, and plunged...' Mr. Ratsch +corrected himself: 'and plashed....' He again corrected himself: 'and +plunged...' + +'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a subdued but +insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish good voice; honour us +with a song, strike up: "We live among the fields!"' + +'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the guests. + +...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, turning a +severe glance in the direction of the lover of music, 'plunged all her +family into the most irreplaceable grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, +'well may the Russian proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + +'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the table, 'my +purse has just been stolen!...' + +'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box on the +ear. + +Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, till then +only growling and faintly stirring within us, had suddenly broken from +its chains and reared up, ruffled and fierce in all its hideousness. It +seemed as though every one had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as +the natural outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed +to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered and rolled +about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, hands were waving in +the air, coat-tails were flying, and a fight began in earnest. + +'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the +fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most peaceable +person in the world; it is true he had been silently drinking some dozen +glasses of spirits. 'Thrash him!...' + +Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, he had no +idea, but he bellowed furiously. + +The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads and +highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected such a speedy +termination to his eloquence, tried to restore order... but their +efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the fishmonger, even fell foul of +Mr. Ratsch himself. + +'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he yelled at him, +shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the police, and here he's crowing +over it!!' + +At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I don't know; +I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off as fast as my legs would +carry me! All I remember is a fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains +of a herring in the hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat +flying right across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a +corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... Such were +the last impressions I carried away of the 'memorial banquet,' arranged +by the excellent Sigismund Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + +After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him all of +which I had been a witness during that day. He listened to me, sitting +still, and not raising his head, and putting both hands under his legs, +he murmured again, 'Ah! my poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down +on the sofa and turned his back on me. + +A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up his life +as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a keepsake: he gave +it me without raising any objection. + + +XXVIII + + +Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow and settled +in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to Petersburg. He had entered the +department of the Ministry of Finance, but we rarely met and I saw +nothing much in him then. An official like every one else, and nothing +more! If he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, +unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses dumb-bells, and +is as much a lady-killer as ever, and sketches Napoleon in a blue +uniform in the albums of his lady friends. It happened that I had to go +to Moscow on business. In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, +that the fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an +adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, two boys, +whom as a true Russian he had christened Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but +his house had been burnt down, he had been forced to retire from his +position, and worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become +practically a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in +Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to hear an +allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most insulting allusion! +I did all I could to defend the memory of the unhappy girl, to whom fate +had denied even the charity of oblivion, but my arguments did not make +much impression on my audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, +however, a little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I +have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' + + +I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. Susanna's image +rose before me; once more I seemed to see the frozen window in my room; +I recalled that evening and the blustering snowstorm, and those words, +those sobs.... I began to ponder how it was possible to explain +Susanna's love for Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively +given way to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it +she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter truth from +the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, even? How could she +fling herself at once headlong into the abyss? Because she was +passionately in love with Fustov, I shall be told; because she could not +bear the slightest doubt of his devotion, of his respect for her. +Perhaps; or perhaps because she was not at all so passionately in love +with Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but simply +rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over the thought that +even this man had at once, at the first breath of slander, turned away +from her with contempt! Who can say what killed her; wounded pride, or +the wretchedness of her helpless position, or the very memory of that +first, noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully pledged +herself in the morning of her early days, who had so deeply trusted her, +and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps at the very instant when I +fancied that her dead lips were murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul +was rejoicing that she had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The +secrets of human life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable +of those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of Susanna +rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity for her, and of +angry reproach against fate, and my lips whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy +girl! unhappy girl!' + +1868. + + + + + + +THE DUELLIST + + +I + + +A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the village of +Kirilovo, in the K--- province. That village, with its huts and +hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and gaunt willows, looked from a +distance like an island in a boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth +fields. In the middle of the village was a small pond, invariably +covered with goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces +from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden +manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one side. Behind +the house stretched the deserted garden; in the garden grew old +apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall birch-trees, full of rooks' +nests. At the end of the principal garden-walk, in a little house, once +the bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, gasping and +groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag himself across the garden +to the seignorial apartments, though there was nothing to take care of +in them except a dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two +podgy chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with +holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken nose. The +owner of the house, a careless young man, lived partly at Petersburg, +partly abroad, and had completely forgotten his estate. It had come to +him eight years before, from a very old uncle, once noted all over the +countryside for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles +are to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with rubbish of +all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured covers, scantily +filled with writing, old-fashioned glass lustres, a nobleman's uniform +of the Catherine period, a rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. +In one of the lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his +abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim and +sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, an emotional +person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, fond of flowers and female +society. The social life of the officers of this regiment did not differ +from any other kind of society. Among their number were good people and +bad, clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch +Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. Lutchkov was a +short and not thick-set man; he had a small, yellowish, dry face, lank, +black hair, unnoticeable features, and dark, little eyes. He had early +been left an orphan, and had grown up among privations and hardships. +For weeks together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at once--as +though he were possessed by some devil--he would let no one alone, +annoying everybody, staring every one insolently in the face; trying, in +fact, to pick a quarrel. Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof +from intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate terms +with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play cards, and did +not drink spirits. + +In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the manoeuvres, +there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor Fedorovitch Kister, a +Russian nobleman of German extraction, very fair-haired and very modest, +cultivated and well read. He had lived up to his twentieth year in the +home of his fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and +his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely to the +wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age could not see a white +plumed helmet without emotion.... He served with no special enthusiasm +but with energy, as it were conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a +dandy, but was always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of +his arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior officers, +and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had brought with him some +cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so forth. He papered all the walls +and the doors, put up some screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a +stable, and a kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole +week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards to go into +his room. Before the window stood a neat table, covered with various +little things; in one corner was a set of shelves for books, with busts +of Schiller and Goethe; on the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and +guns; near the table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; +there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and locked; the +windows were hung with curtains. Everything in Fyodor Fedoritch's room +had a look of cleanliness and order. + +It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. Often one +could scarcely make one's way across the muddy yard; in the outer room, +behind a canvas screen, with its covering peeling off it, would lie +stretched the snoring orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, +boots and a broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped +card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, half-full of cold, +dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, rickety, greasy sofa; on the +window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would +find the master of the place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson +plush facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, and +a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass collar would be +snoring at his side.... All the doors always ajar.... + +Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new comrades. They +liked him for his good-nature, modesty, warm-heartedness, and natural +inclination for everything beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in +another officer they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They +called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their manners +with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed him dubiously. One +day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, slightly pursing up his lips +and inflating his nostrils: + +'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + +Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + +'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + +'My name's Kister, sir.' + +'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. Lutchkov +looked after him with a grin. + +Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + +'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + +Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey +Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant glee. + +'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + +'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and +ill-bred--do you hear?--stupid and ill-bred.' + +'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + +'When you like,... to-morrow.' + +Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and +to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, +took him by the hand and begged his pardon. Kister had to keep indoors +for a fortnight. Avdey Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him +and on Fyodor Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was +pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling akin to +remorse was roused in his soul--it's hard to say... but from the time of +his duel with Kister, Avdey Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and +called him first Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he +became quite another man and--strange to say!--the change was not in his +favour. It did not suit him to be gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not +call forth in any one anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that +class of persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of +authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts essential for +the justification of such a privilege. Having received no education, not +being distinguished by intelligence, he ought not to have revealed +himself; possibly his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of +the defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself +altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at first +forced himself to despise people, then he began to notice that it was +not a difficult matter to intimidate them, and he began to despise them +in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed cutting short by his very approach all but +the most vulgar conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, +and I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall know +nothing and not show off your talents before me....' Kister, perhaps, +had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had taken up--just because before +his acquaintance with him, the bully had never met any one genuinely +idealistic, that is to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in +dreams, and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + +Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe and +quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in Kister's company +abashed by his own ignorance; he relied--and with good reason--on his +German modesty. + +'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been reading, I'll +bet, eh?' + +'Yes, I read....' + +'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell away.' +Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the end. + +'I read Kleist's _Idyll_. Ah, what a fine thing it is! If you don't +mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And Kister translated with +fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up his forehead and compressing his +lips, listened attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, +with a disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, I've +read it... very fine.' + +'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were reluctantly, +'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + +And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the Fourteenth, while +Lutchkov listened, totally failing to understand a great deal, +misunderstanding a part... and at last venturing to make a remark.... +This threw him into a cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' +he thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. But +Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the good-hearted youth was +inwardly rejoicing that, as he thought, the desire for enlightenment was +awakened in a fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for +enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God knows why he +did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself what sort of head he, +Lutchkov, had, whether it was really dull, or simply untrained. 'So I +really am stupid,' he said to himself more than once with a bitter +smile; and he would draw himself up instantly and look rudely and +insolently about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some +comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my man, you're +so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter between his teeth. +'I'll show you... that's all....' + +The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of Kister and +Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer ways. 'The devil's made +friends with the baby,' they said.... Kister was warm in his praises of +his friend on all hands; no one disputed his opinion, because they were +afraid of Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name +before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the perfumed +adjutant. + + +II + + +The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving balls, +inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off their daughters. + +About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just such a country +gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four hundred souls, and a +fairly spacious house. He had a daughter of eighteen, Mashenka, and a +wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. Perekatov had once been an officer in the +cavalry, but from love of a country life and from indolence he had +retired and had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of +the middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence in a not +perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished gentleman of Moscow. + +Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, as it is +called, in his own house, but got her off his hands rather hurriedly, at +the first offer, as a not very marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was +ugly; the distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten +thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To Mr. +Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a highly educated, +intellectual young lady... who was, after all, so closely related to so +illustrious a personage. This illustrious personage extended his +patronage to the young people even after the marriage, that is to say, +he accepted presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my +dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna took complete +possession of her husband, managed everything, and looked after the +whole property--very sensibly, indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. +Perekatov could have done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too +much; but she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and +dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper for a country +gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov grew a little Napoleonic +beard on his chin, to cover a large wart, which looked like an over-ripe +raspberry. Nenila Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that +her husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always let the +beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their instrument more +comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in the early morning, wore a +high, clean stock, and was well combed and washed. He was, moreover, +well content with his lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and +slept all he could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household +'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few servants, +and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by ambition; she wanted at +least to be the wife of the marshal of the nobility of the district; but +the gentry of the district, though they dined at her house to their +hearts' content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired +premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major Burundukov. +Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a product of the capital. + +Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her father. Nenila +Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with her education. She spoke +French well, and played the piano fairly. She was of medium height, +rather plump and white; her rather full face was lighted up by a kindly +and merry smile; her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her +pleasant voice--everything about her was gently pleasing, and that was +all. On the other hand the absence of all affectation and +conventionality, an amount of culture exceptional in a country girl, the +freedom of her expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks +could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her own free +will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in restraint. + +One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the Perekatovs were in +the drawing-room. The husband in a round green coat, a high check +cravat, and pea-green trousers with straps, was standing at the window, +very busily engaged in catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her +embroidery frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and +gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa, +gazing in silence at the floor. + +'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, Sergei +Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + +'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chère.' (He was under the +strictest orders not to call her 'little mother.') 'To be sure!' + +'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila Makarievna. 'Nobody +for the girls to dance with.' + +Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of partners. + +'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov asked?' + +'What Lutchkov?' + +'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting person.' + +'How's that?' + +'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every one's afraid of +him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma frowned a little.) 'I should so +like to see him.' + +Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + +'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he must look +like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just beginning to talk +about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I declare, my dear, there was a time +when I had a terrible character as a fighting man.' + +Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped up and +kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, too... but Sergei +Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + +'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila Makarievna. +'Possibly he may come too.' + +The daughter sighed. + +'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked Sergei +Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that nowadays--so--what shall +I say?--romantic...' + +'No,' Masha responded simply. + +Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei Sergeitch played +with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, then took his wide-brimmed, +English hat from the table, and set off to see after things on the +estate. + +His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent animal, she +was well aware that her master was not a person of very great authority in +the house, and behaved herself accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + +Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her head, and +looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell me when you fall in +love?' she asked. + +Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head several +times in the affirmative. + +'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her cheek, and she +went out after her husband. Masha leaned back in her chair, dropped her +head on her bosom, interlaced her fingers, and looked long out of +window, screwing up her eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh +cheeks; with a sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but +dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting the tips of +her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at her own shoulder, at her +outstretched hand, got up, went to the window, laughed, put on her hat +and went out into the garden. + +That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. Madame +Perekatov with great affability received and 'entertained' the ladies, +Mashenka the girls; Sergei Sergeitch talked about the crops with the +gentlemen and continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived +the young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at last +the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, Kister and Lutchkov. +He presented them to the lady of the house. Lutchkov bowed without +speaking, Kister muttered the customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. +Perekatov went up to the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him +in the face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked +forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a dance. At +that time the _Ecossaise_ was still flourishing. + +'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after galloping twenty +times to the end of the room, they stood at last, the first couple, 'why +isn't your friend dancing?' + +'Which friend?' + +Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + +'He never dances,' answered Kister. + +'Why did he come then?' + +Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the pleasure...' + +Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred into our +regiment, I think?' + +'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not long.' + +'Aren't you dull here?' + +'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the scenery!'... +Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. Masha listened to him, +without raising her head. Avdey Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, +looking indifferently at the dancers. + +'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + +'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + +'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added hurriedly. + +'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + +'They say every one's afraid of him.' + +Kister laughed. + +'And you?' + +'I'm a friend of his.' + +'Really?' + +'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. They +started and began galloping again right across the room. + +'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up to him +after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does nothing but ask +questions about you.' + +'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + +'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; only look at +her.' + +'Which of them is she?' + +Kister pointed out Masha. + +'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + +'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask another girl +to dance. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister had +mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned loudly. To arouse +curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: love he despised--in +words--but inwardly he was himself aware that it would be a hard and +difficult task for him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him +to win love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of indifference, +of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was unattractive and no longer +young; but on the other hand he enjoyed a terrible reputation--and +consequently he had every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, +unspoken enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he had +attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to get upon more +friendly terms with him, but he repelled their advances with exasperated +obstinacy; he knew that sentiment was not in his line (during tender +interviews, avowals, he first became awkward and vulgar, and, through +anger, rude to the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that +the two or three women with whom he had at different times been on a +friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the first moment of +closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse made haste to get away +from him... and so he had at last schooled himself to remain an enigma, +and to scorn what destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only +sort of scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, spontaneous, +that is to say good, demonstration of passion suited Lutchkov; he was +bound to keep a continual check on himself, even when he was angry. +Kister was the only person who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke +into laughter; the kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous +delight of sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from +Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering looks, like +a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, Lutchkov never left his +corner, scowled, glanced stealthily at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at +once threw an expression of indifference into his own. Masha danced +three times with Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with +confidence. She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not +at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + +A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up and down, +tapping with their heels, and tossing the epaulettes on their shoulders; +the civilians tapped with their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir +from his place, and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they +whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; his +neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before him with +downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov for the first +moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he carelessly took off his +sword, threw his hat on the floor, picked his way awkwardly among the +arm-chairs, took Masha by the hand, and went round the circle, with no +capering up and down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an +unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + +'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + +'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + +'Where's your place?' + +'Over there.' + +Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her and coolly +returned to his corner... but there was an agreeable stirring of the +spleen within him. + +Kister asked Masha for a dance. + +'What a strange person your friend is!' + +'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly twinkle of +his blue and kindly eyes. + +'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + +'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch laughed. + +'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook her head with +an important air. + +'Me not know? How's that?'... + +Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, +and walked away into the other room. + + +III + + +Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had not once been +at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them pretty often. Nenila +Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but it was not she that attracted +Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had +not yet talked himself out, he derived great pleasure from the +interchange of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in +the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a young man and +a young girl. + +One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him rapidly along +to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, close and sultry. Not a +cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky was so thick and dark on the horizon +that the eye mistook it for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had +erected for a summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the +steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. Nenila +Makarievna had every shutter closed from early morning. Kister walked +into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. The light lay in long lines on +the floor and in short, close streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila +Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. Perekatov settled +himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; Masha sat near the window at +her embroidery frame, Kister facing her. Masha, without opening her +frame, leaned lightly over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began +telling her something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for +something, looked from time to time towards her father, and all at once +stretched out her hand. + +'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more softly... papa's +asleep.' + +Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, with his +head hanging and his mouth a little open. + +'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + +'You will laugh at me.' + +'Oh, no, really!...' + +Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face remained +uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not without hesitation, +asked Kister why it was he never brought Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was +not the first time Masha had mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did +not speak. Masha glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + +'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + +'Oh, why not? of course.' + +'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on you.' + +'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to examine +the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of light lay on her +hair; 'no... but...' + +'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + +'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted her head, so +that the streak of light fell straight in her eyes; 'don't you see... +he...' + +'He interests you....' + +'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, turned her +head a little away and in that position went on talking. 'There is +something about him so... There, you're laughing at me,' she added +suddenly, glancing swiftly at Fyodor Fedoritch. + +Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + +'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha went on: 'I +know that you are a very'... (she nearly said great) 'good friend of +mine.' + +Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her hand to him; +Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers respectfully. + +'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again she propped +her elbows on the frame. + +'Queer?' + +'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha added +slily. + +'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined solemnly. 'They +don't know him in our regiment, they don't appreciate him, they only see +his external side. He's embittered, of course, and strange and +impatient, but his heart is good.' + +Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + +'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need to be afraid +of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... I'll tell him... Oh! +yes, I know what to say... Only you mustn't suppose, though, that I +would...' (Kister was embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... +'Besides, after all, of course you only... like him....' + +'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + +Kister looked mischievously at her. + +'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll bring him to +you....' + +'Oh, no....' + +'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange +everything.' + +'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her finger at +him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + +'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with surprise. This +doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. Masha and Kister began +discussing Schiller. + +Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt something like a +stir of envy within him... and was generously indignant with himself. +Nenila Makarievna came down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. +Mr. Perekatov made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then +explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog wagged its +tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. When at last the great +heat began to lessen, and an evening breeze blew up, the whole family +went out for a walk in the birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually +glancing at Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would +carry out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and happy +and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, plunged into a +rather high-flown discourse upon love in the abstract, and upon +friendship... but catching Nenila Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye +he, as abruptly, changed the subject. The sunset was brilliant and +glowing. A broad, level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. +Masha took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' +Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with his wife, +Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential little shrieks; Mr. +Perekatov's valet had the temerity to separate Nenila Makarievna from +her spouse; one of the servant-girls respectfully paired off with her +master; Fyodor Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he +regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, all +flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, passing her hand +over her hair. After supper, Kister took leave. + +It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He was +excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said at last, almost +aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them together; I will justify her +confidence in me.' Though there was as yet nothing to prove a definite +passion for Lutchkov on Masha's part, though, according to her own +account, he only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up +a complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. He +resolved to sacrifice his feelings--the more readily as 'so far I have +no other sentiment for her but sincere devotion,' thought he. Kister +really was capable of sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised +duty. He had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of +experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the truth of his +suppositions; he did not suspect that life is endlessly varied, and +never repeats itself. Little by little, Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself +into a state of ecstasy. He began musing with emotion on his mission. To +be the mediator between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered +only because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; to +bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, and then to +withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of his sacrifice, what a +splendid feat! In spite of the coolness of the night, the simple-hearted +dreamer's face burned.... + +Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + +Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a pipe. +Kister greeted him. + +'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some solemnity. + +'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + +'Yes. They are splendid people.' + +'Really?' + +'We talked about you.' + +'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + +'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + +'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + +'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + +'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + +'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a clever, sweet +and sensitive girl.' + +Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' + + +'But I assure you....' + +'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked sarcastically. + +'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + +'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + +'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + +'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my hearth,' +Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + +'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with vexation. + +With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more than +before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen Sie deutsch, Ivan +Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, 'don't be angry.' + +'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside him. 'You +know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) 'But there's one +thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... it's just that you won't make +friends with any one, that you will stick at home, and refuse all +intercourse with nice people. Why, there are nice people in the world, +hang it all! Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been +embittered, what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of +course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast me off +some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + +Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + +'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness knows what +some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister after a brief silence; +'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + +'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + +Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + +'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to reconcile you with +life. You will grow happier, blossom out... yes, blossom out. How I +shall rejoice then! Only you must let me dispose of you now and then, of +your time. To-day it's--what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on +Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the Perekatovs'. They +will be so glad to see you... and we shall have such a jolly time +there... and now let me have a pipe.' + +Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at the +ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and began drumming +on the panes with his fingers. + +'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + +'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + +'What did they say?' + +'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your acquaintance.' + +'Which of them's that?' + +'I say, what curiosity!' + +Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be saddled. + +'Where are you off to?' + +'The riding-school.' + +'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + +'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + +'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the street, +pondered, and sighed deeply. + + +IV + + +Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the arrival of +Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly returned to her own +room, and went up to the looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing +violently. A girl came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a +little water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. Mr. +Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa; +Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing his uniform, with his hat +on his knees; Kister was near him. They both got up on Masha's +entrance--Kister with his usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn +and constrained air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her +mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha recovered +herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To the questions +addressed to him by the lady of the house, he answered briefly, but +uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic people. Nenila Makarievna +suggested a stroll in the garden to her guests, but did not herself go +beyond the balcony. She did not consider it essential never to lose +sight of her daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a +fat reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in the +steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha talked more with +Kister, but did not dare to look either at him or at Lutchkov. Avdey +Ivanovitch did not address a remark to her; Kister's voice showed +agitation. He laughed and chattered a little over-much.... They reached +the stream. A couple of yards or so from the bank there was a +water-lily, which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, +encircled by its broad, round leaves. + +'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + +She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out his sword, +clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a willow, and, bending his +whole body over the water, cut off the head of the flower. 'It's deep +here, take care!' Masha cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his +sword brought the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, +picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted amazement at +Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't swim...' Lutchkov observed +abruptly. Masha did not like that remark. 'What made him say that?' she +wondered. + +Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the evening. +Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's soul; a dreamy +perplexity was reflected more than once in her face. She moved somehow +more slowly, she did not flush on meeting her mother's eyes--on the +contrary, she seemed to seek them, as though she would question her. +During the whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; +but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When they had +both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a few days, she +quietly went off to her own room, and for a long while, as it were, in +bewilderment she looked about her. Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed +and embraced her as usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say +something--and did not utter a word. She wanted to confess---she did not +know what. Her soul was gently wandering in dreams. On the little table +by her bedside the flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean +glass. Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her elbow, +and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white petals.... + +'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like the +Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + +Lutchkov did not answer. + +'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + +'Really, I don't know.' + +'Nonsense, come now!' + +'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not bad-looking.' + +'There, you see...' said Kister--and he said no more. + +Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that they should +call on the Perekatovs. + +Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor Fedoritch's absence +he would have had to keep up a conversation, and that he could not do, +and as far as possible avoided. + +On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more at her ease. +She was by now secretly glad that she had not disturbed her mamma by an +uninvited avowal. Before dinner, Avdey had offered to try a young horse, +not yet broken in, and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it +completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking and +laughing--and though he soon pulled himself up, yet he had succeeded in +making a momentary unpleasant impression on Masha. She could not yet be +sure herself what the feeling exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, +but everything she did not like in him she set down to the influence of +misfortune, of loneliness. + + +V + + +The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. Kister's +position became more and more painful. He did not regret his action... +no, but he desired at least to cut short the time of his trial. His +devotion to Masha increased daily; she too felt warmly towards him; but +to be nothing more than a go-between, a confidant, a friend even--it's a +dreary, thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great deal +about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of suffering... but to +Kister's warm and simple heart his sufferings were not a source of any +bliss whatever. At last, one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to +fetch him, and the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, +to the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he should +stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and angry... Kister +pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + +The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his comrades in +peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his spirit had not +'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet he certainly had toned down +a little. He could not have been called 'disillusioned' before--he had +seen and experienced almost nothing--and so it is not surprising that +Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched though; only his +spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for him were of a strange kind. +She almost never looked him straight in the face; she could not talk to +him.... When they happened to be left alone together, Masha felt +horribly awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt overawed +by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did not understand him, +and was unworthy of his confidence; miserably, drearily--but +continually--she thought of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, +soothed her and put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed +nor excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours together, +leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, looking +affectionately into his face, and laughing with his laughter--and she +rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov there was something enigmatic for the +young girl; she felt that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained +every effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So children +stare a long while into a deep well, till at last they make out at the +very bottom the still, black water. + +On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was at first +scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more than once fancied +that there existed some sort of misunderstanding between Lutchkov and +her, that he had not hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. +Lutchkov mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents expressed +their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at Avdey, and felt faint +with expectation. After dinner they were left alone; Masha did not know +what to say, she sat down to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly +and tremblingly over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting +for the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for music. +Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was at that time just +coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... Avdey Ivanovitch responded: +'Quite so,' 'by no means,' 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. +Masha played some brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. +Lutchkov listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, +his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped up at once +and closed the piano. She went up to the window, and for a long while +stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not stir from his seat, and still +remained silent. Impatience began to take the place of timidity in +Masha's soul. 'What is it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' +It was Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his +miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... 'It was +the devil's own notion to have anything to do with the wretched girl,' +he muttered to himself.... And all the while how easy it was to touch +Masha's heart at that instant! Whatever had been said by such an +extraordinary though eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would +have understood everything, have excused anything, have believed +anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of vexation were +standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be open, if I am really not +worthy of his confidence, why does he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps +it is that I don't set the right way to work to make him reveal +himself?'... And she turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, +so searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her glance, +and could not keep silence any longer.... + +'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I ought to +tell you something....' + +'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + +Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + +'I can't now...' + +'Why not?' + +'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + +'Why, we are alone now.' + +'Yes... but... here in the house....' + +Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, 'it's all +over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + +'I agree,' she said at last. + +'When then? Where?' + +Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + +'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the Long +Meadow?'... + +'Behind the mill?' + +Masha nodded. + +'What time?' + +'Wait...' + +She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she turned pale +and went quickly out of the room. + +A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his characteristic +politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, pressed his hand feelingly, +and begged him 'not to forget them'; then, having let out his guest, he +observed with dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to +shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn air to his +own room, with the same careworn air sat down on the sofa, and +guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + +'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her daughter, +on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite well?' + +'Yes, mamma.' + +Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's neck. + +'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that motherly +solicitude in which there is none the less audible a note of parental +authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy too. You're not well, +Masha.' + +'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of escape. + +'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on Masha's +forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + +Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + +Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender waist. + +'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she said +caressingly, not loosing her hands. + +Masha shuddered inwardly. + +'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + +Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's attention. + +'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + +But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and instead of +answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a laugh. + +'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + +'No, really, nothing.' + +'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short silence. 'I +know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's true, isn't it?' + +'Of course, mamma.' + +Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + +'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep anything from +me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + +'Oh yes, mamma.' + +And Masha hugged her. + +'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked about the +room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of one who feels that the +question asked is of no special importance; 'what were you talking about +with Avdey Ivanovitch to-day?' + +'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all sorts of +things....' + +'Do you like him?' + +'Oh yes, I like him.' + +'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how excited +you were?' + +Masha turned away and laughed. + +'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed +good-humouredly. + +Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held her tongue. + +'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer fish, but +still he's a nice man!' + +'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + +'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch wanted to +make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + +'What? Accept his present?' + +'Yes.' + +'Of course.' + +'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + +Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned back again. + +'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + +'What promise?' + +'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + +'I remember.' + +'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed musically.) 'Look +into my eyes.' + +Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + +'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt reassured. 'As if +she could deceive me!... How could I think of such a thing!... She's +still a perfect baby....' + +She went away.... + +'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + + +VI + + +Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his room. The +bully's face never expressed _one_ feeling; so it was now: feigned +indifference, coarse delight, consciousness of his own superiority... a +number of different emotions were playing over his features. + +'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question him. + +'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + +'Well? Are they all well?' + +'Of course, why not?' + +'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + +'Yes, I think so.' + +Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister looked +down and mused. + +'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring voice, +'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured fellow, but +you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for all that, if I may +venture to say so.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking +them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, +they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!' + +'I like and respect women, but------' + +'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not going to +argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain man.' + +'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just now,... are you +talking about women?' + +'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + +Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple heart!) +that Masha had been treating him badly; had been torturing him, perhaps, +as only women can.... + +'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + +Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + +'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he said, in a +drawling tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. 'No, only, look +here, Fedya,' he went on with the manner of a preceptor, 'I was only +going to point out that you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. +You believe me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a +little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things in your own +hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + +'Oh!' + +Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + +'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I shouldn't +have thought there was anything. There isn't anything, is there? And +here, I've a clandestine appointment for to-morrow.' + +Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement at Lutchkov. + +'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued serenely. +'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's only a bit of fun. +It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty little girl,... well, says I, +why not? Marriage, of course, I'm not going in for... but there, I like +to recall my young days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats--but +I may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the nightingales +together. Of course, it's really more in your line; but the wench has no +eyes, you see. I should have thought I wasn't worth looking at beside +you.' + +Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. His head +was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand over his face. +Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, screwed up his eyes, +stretched, and putting down Kister's emotion to jealousy, was almost +gasping with delight. But it was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; +he was wounded, not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse +carelessness, his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He +was still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for the +first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it was he had been +scheming for! This for which he had sacrificed his own inclinations! +Here it was, the blessed influence of love. + +'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he muttered at +last. + +'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant chuckle. + +Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even then; perhaps, +thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is 'humbugging' from old +habit... he has not yet found a new language to express new feelings. +And was there not in himself some other feeling lurking under his +indignation? Did not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply +because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps Lutchkov really +was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a thousand times no! That man in +love?... That man was loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his +nervous, cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, not +in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted friend the secret +of his love.... In overflowing happiness, in dumb rapture, with bright, +blissful tears in his eyes would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + +'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect it, and +now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? eh?' + +Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to the wall. +'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he whispered to himself. 'He +wouldn't understand me... so be it! He supposes none but evil feelings +in me--so be it!...' + +Avdey got up. + +'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I don't want to +be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... pleasant dreams!' + +And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + +Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With feverish +persistence he turned over and over and thought over and over the same +single idea--an occupation only too well known to unhappy lovers. + +'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she has flung +herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with me, with his friend, +to speak so disrespectfully, so offensively of her! In what way is she +to blame? How could any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced +girl? + +'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She has--yes, +she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he never tells a lie. But perhaps +it means nothing, a mere freak.... + +'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of insulting +her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for anything.... And wasn't it I +myself that praised him up and exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her +curiosity?... But who could have known this? Who could have foreseen +it?... + +'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... But, after +all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! What a lesson!' + +All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. 'Yes, I did +like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my liking cooled so +suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why did I ever like him? I +alone?' + +Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the very reason +that all the rest avoided him. But the good-hearted youth did not know +himself how great his good-heartedness was. + +'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? What right +have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in other people's love? +How do I know the nature of that love? Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, +no!' he said aloud, with irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out +his pillow, 'that man's stone.... + +'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious friend, +indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a sickening egoist I +am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I wish them happiness.... +Happiness! but he is laughing at her!... And why does he dye his +moustaches? I do, really, believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' +he repeated, as he fell asleep. + + +VII + + +The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When they met, +Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, too, found a change +in him, but neither spoke of it. The whole morning they both, contrary +to their habit, felt uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number +of hints and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but all +this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown away. Masha was +vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; she fancied that he +pronounced some words with intentional significance; but she was +conscious, too, of her own excitement, and did not trust her own +observations. 'If only he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what +she was thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that he +was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness and her +uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more afraid he was for her +the more impossible he found it to speak of Lutchkov; while Masha +obstinately refrained from uttering his name. It was a painful +experience for poor Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his +own feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She had, to +all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint flush stood in +patches on her pale face; her figure was faintly drooping; an +unconscious, weary smile never left her lips; now and then a shiver ran +over her white shoulders; a soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and +quickly faded away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and +possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in her mother's +presence Masha was armed _jusqu'aux dents,_ as the French say, and +she did not betray herself at all. So passed the whole morning. + +'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + +Masha turned away. + +'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. 'Excuse me... +duties of the service...' + +Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, following +her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I don't want to be in the +way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, as he passed her, but he bowed down +and whispered instead: 'Be happy... farewell... take care of +yourself...' and was gone. + +Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then felt +panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting her? Love or +curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity alone was enough to +ruin Eve. + + +VIII + + +Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground on the right +of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile from the Perekatovs' +property. The left bank, completely covered by thick young oak bushes, +rose steeply up over the stream, which was almost overgrown with willow +bushes, except for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild +ducks. Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long Meadow, +began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here and there with old +birch-trees, nut bushes, and guelder-roses. + +The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the distance, +sounding louder or softer according to the wind. The seignorial drove of +horses was lazily wandering about the meadows; a shepherd walked, +humming a tune, after a flock of greedy and timorous sheep; the +sheepdogs, from boredom, were running after the crows. Lutchkov walked +up and down in the copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near +by, more than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of the +mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered and shy, as +usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt wrathful with her and +annoyed with himself... but his excitement smothered his annoyance. He +stopped at last before a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip +switching off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + +He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces from him +stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a hat, but with no +gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily tied kerchief round her neck. +She dropped her eyes instantly, and softly nodded.... + +Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + +'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + +'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I +usually walk here in the evening... and you...' + +But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her +innocent deception. + +'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, 'you yourself +suggested...' + +'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you +wanted...' Her voice died away. + +Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + +'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not +used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, +I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....' + +'Speak.' + +'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long +while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...' + +Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence. + +'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no +changing one's destiny...' + +'How can one know?...' + +'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!' + +It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for +Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + +'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; +'some even too kind....' + +'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your +friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?' + +'No.... What do you want to say?' + +'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully +charming....' + +'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching +with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went +on--'look, what a view!' + +She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and +flushed red with the sunset. + +Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov +began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha.... + +'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little +head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which +is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls. + +'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's +pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine +sentiments are not in my line.' + +Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief silence +followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + +'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, though! Come, +more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in a fairly resolute voice. + +Masha turned to him. + +'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my side know +what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so to say,... amiably +disposed towards my person?' + +'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do you know, +Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's not always easy to +give a direct answer to a direct question.' + +'Still...' + +'But what is it to you?' + +'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + +'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?' +said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you have killed more than +one man?' + +'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his +moustaches. + +Masha looked intently at him. + +'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood had caught +fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had +been moving before his eyes. + +'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, 'you +know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for.... You've +been so kind.... You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for....' + +Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced sideways at +Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense you do talk,' and gave +him the flower. + +Avdey seized her hand. + +'And so you love me!' he cried. + +Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest +idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure +herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was +forestalling her, forcing her to speak out--he must be misunderstanding +her then.... This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. +She had never expected such a speedy _dénouement._... Masha, like +an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: 'Can it be that +Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a +respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with +him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting +to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + +Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough moustaches on +her cheek.... + +'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other happiness on +earth!' + +Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, +stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly +confused. + +'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect really...' + +Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A disagreeable smile +twisted his lips... patches of red came out on his face.... + +'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great matter.... +Why, we understand each other... and so....' + +Masha did not speak. + +'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing but...' Lutchkov +stretched out his hand to her. + +Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, sinking with +terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, 'Taniusha!' + +From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... Avdey was +completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence of her hand-maiden, +Masha did not stir. But the bully was shaking all over with rage; his +eyes were half closed; he clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + +'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick--no denying that!' he cried out. + +Masha was petrified. + +'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya Sergievna! +Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! Nowadays young ladies +see further than old men. So this is all your love amounts to!' + +'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to speak about +love... what love?' + +'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what next!' He felt +he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but he could not restrain +himself. + +'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to your request, +relying upon your _délicatesse_... but you don't know French... on +your courtesy, I mean....' + +Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + +'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very well that you +have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + +'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + +'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut her short +peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + +'Mr. Lutchkov...' + +'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's trouble thrown +away! you don't impress me.' + +Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked away. + +'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd lad, your +tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after her. He had lost his +head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + +Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She felt light +at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. She felt as though she +had waked up from a troubled sleep, had stepped out of a dark room into +air and sunshine.... Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless +frenzy he broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously +drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at the reins +that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a quarter of an hour and +almost expired the same night. + +Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next morning he +went round himself to see him. The orderly informed Fyodor Fedoritch +that his master was lying down and had given orders that he would see no +one. 'He won't see me even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked +twice up and down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and +then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + +'From whom?' + +'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + +Kister's hands began to tremble. + +'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to wait for +your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + +'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,--I want very, very much to see you. +Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I entreat you, +for the sake of our old friendship. If only you knew... but you +shall know everything. Good-bye for a little while,--eh? + +MARIE. + +'P.S.--Be sure to come to-morrow.' + + +'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + +Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's countenance, +and went out without uttering a word. + +'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a drink +with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the postillion. + + +IX + + +Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet Kister, when he +came into the drawing-room, she pressed his hand so warmly and +affectionately, that his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight +seemed rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however, say a single word, +and she promptly left the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the +sofa, playing patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not +yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the conversation round +from all extraneous topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a +plaid silk sash, Kister's favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and +gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all +laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up spirit and +described one of the merriest pranks of his youthful days, hiding his +head from his wife like an ostrich, as he told the story. + +'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to Kister after +dinner with that note of affectionate authority in her voice which is, +as it were, conscious that you will gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk +to you about something very, very important,' she added with enchanting +solemnity, as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, +_maman_?' + +'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + +'But we are not going into the garden.' + +'Where then?' + +'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + +'Take Taniusha with you.' + +'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly as a bird +from the room. + +A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the Long +Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of bread to her +favourite cow, patted it on the head and made Kister stroke it. Masha +was in great good humour and chatted merrily. Kister responded +willingly, though he awaited explanations with impatience.... Taniusha +walked behind at a respectful distance, only from time to time stealing +a sly glance at her young lady. + +'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + +'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + +'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + +'You were out of humour... that was all.' + +'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. That's +right.... You were out of humour too.' + +'Yes, I was too.' + +'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + +'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + +'And do you know why? Because...' + +Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because I am with +you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + +Kister softly pressed her hand. + +'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an undertone. + +'What about?' + +'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + +'I was waiting for...' + +'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him +impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, because you +are incapable... _parceque vous avez de la délicatesse_. One can +say that to you: you understand French.' + +Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least understand +Masha. + +'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha admired it, +and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from his arm, with an anxious +smile she began carefully sticking the tender stalk in the buttonhole of +Kister's coat. Her slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at +the fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though to say +'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of her gloves. + +Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha became +suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent altogether. They came +to the very place where Lutchkov had waited for her. The trampled grass +had not yet grown straight again; the broken sapling had not yet +withered, its little leaves were only just beginning to curl up and +fade. Masha stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + +'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about your +friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + +Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + +'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I made... an +appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + +'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + +'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before yesterday... Mr. +Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of his _conquest_.' + +Kister was about to answer.... + +'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know he's your +friend. You are capable of taking his part. You knew, Kister, you +knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me from acting so stupidly? Why +didn't you box my ears, as if I were a child? You knew... and didn't you +care?' + +'But what right had I...' + +'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your friend.... I'm +ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That man behaved to me yesterday, +as if...' + +Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + +'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, don't be +angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of yesterday's +explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' added Masha. 'What do you +suppose I am telling you about it for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? +Nonsense! I've forgotten about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good +friend.... I want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... +your advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease with +you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + +'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with difficulty; +'but...' + +'Why _but_? Aren't you ashamed to say _but_? He is coarse, +_and_ clumsy, _and_ ill-natured, _and_ conceited.... Do +you hear?--_and_, not _but_.' + +'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya Sergievna,' Kister +observed mournfully. + +'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like this when +they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may think what you like of +me... but if you imagine I am flirting with you to-day from pique, +well... well...' (tears stood in her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + +'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + +'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not open with +you, don't you see right through me?' + +'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a smile, seeing +with what anxious insistence she tried to catch his eyes. 'But tell me, +what induced you to arrange to meet Lutchkov?' + +'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to me alone. I +fancied he had never had time, never had an opportunity to speak freely. +He has spoken freely now! Do you know, he may be an extraordinary man, +but he's a fool, really.... He doesn't know how to put two words +together. He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him +much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. I hardly +ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, certainly, but I +imagined that a man who was worthy of being your friend...' + +'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister interposed. + +'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + +'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a friend.... +Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' Kister added hurriedly. + +Masha looked intently into his face. + +'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. It's a +lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. For several months +past I have almost every day seen a man who is good, clever, bright, +friendly who...' (Masha was confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, +cared... a little... for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on +quickly, 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + +She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + +Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept repeating to +himself. + +'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + +Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with unshed tears. + +'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + +Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha at once +clutched it warmly. + +'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you answer?' + +'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + +'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You understand me? +You're not laughing at a girl who made an appointment only yesterday +with one man, and to-day is talking to another, as I am talking to +you.... You're not laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed +crimson, she clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + +'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love you... I love +you,' he cried. + +Masha hid her face. + +'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + + +X + + +Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in his room, +writing the following letter to his mother:-- + +Dearest Mother!--I make haste to share my great happiness with you; I am +going to get married. This news will probably only surprise you from my +not having, in my previous letters, even hinted at so important a change +in my life--and you know that I am used to sharing all my feelings, my +joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for silence are not easy to +explain to you. To begin with, I did not know till lately that I was +loved; and on my own side too, it is only lately that I have realised +myself all the strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters +from here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am +engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly convinced that we +shall both be happy. My feeling for her is not a fleeting passion, but a +deep and genuine emotion, in which friendship is mingled with love. Her +bright, gentle disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is +well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you could only +see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I need hardly say she is +a hundred times better-looking than her portrait. Masha loves you +already, like a daughter, and is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. +I mean to retire, to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. +Mr. Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent +condition. You see that even from the material point of view, you cannot +but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come to Moscow and to you. +Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My own dearest mother, how happy I +am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + +Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the window, lighted +a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the table. He took out a small +sheet of notepaper, carefully dipped his pen into the ink, but for a +long while he did not begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes +to the ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his mind, +and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had composed the following: + +'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,--Since the day of your last visit (that is, for +three weeks) you have sent me no message, have not said a word to me, +and have seemed to avoid meeting me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to +act as he pleases; you have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I +do not, believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any way. +It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon any one +whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not to blame in the +matter. I am writing to you now from a feeling of duty. I have made an +offer to Marya Sergievna Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and +also by her parents. I inform _you_ of this fact--directly and +immediately--to avoid any kind of misapprehension or suspicion. I +frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel great concern about the +good opinion of a man who himself shows so little concern for the +opinions and feelings of other people, and I am writing to you solely +because I do not care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to +be acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and will not +ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. Addressing you for +the last time, I cannot, for the sake of our old friendship, refrain +from wishing you all good things possible on earth.--I remain, +sincerely, your obedient servant, Fyodor Kister.' + +Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed his +uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. Light-hearted and +happy, he walked up and down his little room humming, even gave two +little skips in the air, twisted a book of songs into a roll, and was +tying it up with blue ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a +coat without epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. +Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, without +finishing the bow he was tying. + +'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a calm voice. + +Kister fired up. + +'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say good-morning +when they come into another man's room.' + +'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. +'Good-morning.' + +'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to marry Miss +Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + +'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I congratulate +you.' + +'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I must be +starting.' + +'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, Fyodor +Fedoritch.' + +'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured fellow. 'I +must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your behaviour to me has +been so strange, and I think, on my side, I have not deserved... at +least, I had no reason to expect... But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you +like a pipe?' + +Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible in his +movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his eyebrows. + +'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you keep it up +with me so long?...' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you were just +such another as all the rest of us sinners all the while?' + +'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some way?...' + +'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak more plainly. +Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you had a liking for the +Perekatov girl all along, or is it a case of sudden passion?' + +'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my relations +with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + +'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to believe that +you've been humbugging me.' + +Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + +'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + +'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark forest, +and the best side of goods is always turned uppermost. I know you read +German poetry with great feeling and even with tears in your eyes; I +know that you've hung various maps on your walls; I know you keep your +person clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + +Kister began to lose his temper. + +'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object of your +visit? You have sent no message to me for three weeks, and now you come +to me, apparently with the intention of jeering at me. I am not a boy, +sir, and I do not allow any one...' + +'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor Fedoritch, +who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the other way; I've come to +you with a most humble request, that is, that you'd do me the favour to +explain your behaviour to me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who +forced me to make the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you +assure your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into +flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous Marya +Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to _you_ I'm indebted +for that final agreeable scene, of which you have doubtless been +informed in befitting fashion? An engaged girl, of course, tells her +betrothed of everything, especially of her _innocent_ indiscretions. +How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been made such a +terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest in my "blossoming out," +you know!' + +Kister walked up and down the room. + +'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you really--joking +apart--are convinced of what you say, which I confess I don't believe, +then let me tell you, it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an +insulting construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to +justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your memory.' + +'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya Sergievna. +Besides that, let me ask you another question: Weren't you at the +Perekatovs' after a certain conversation with me, after that evening +when I like a fool chattered to you, thinking you my greatest friend, of +the meeting she'd arranged?' + +'What! you suspect me...' + +'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with cutting +iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I have the weakness +to suppose that other men are no better than I am.' + +'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men are better +than you.' + +'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; 'but...' + +'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly infuriated, +'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... of... But these +explanations are leading to nothing, I see.... Think what you choose of +me, and act as you think best.' + +'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're beginning to +speak plainly.' + +'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + +'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on with an +affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, certainly. A man has been +acting, acting a part, and no one has recognised him as a humbug; and +all of a sudden...' + +'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, 'that it +was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I should feel sorry for +you; I could excuse you.... But in your abuse, in your false charges, I +hear nothing but the shriek of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy +for you.... You have deserved what you've got.' + +'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. 'Pride,' he +went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, has been mortified +intensely and insufferably. But who isn't proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm +proud, and for instance, I permit no one to feel sorry for me....' + +'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an expression, +sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you yourself have broken. I must +beg you to behave with me as with a complete outsider.' + +'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. 'Understand me; I +have sent you no message, and have not been to see you because I was +sorry for you; you must allow me to be sorry for you, since you 're +sorry for me!... I didn't want to put you in a false position, to make +your conscience prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you +could remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you were +only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied superiority...' + +Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + +'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. 'I must own +I don't see why you've been pleased to come to me.' + +'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked inquiringly. + +'I certainly don't see why.' + +'N--o?' + +'No, I tell you...' + +'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it of a fellow +of your intelligence!' + +'Come, speak plainly...' + +'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his feet, 'I +have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you understand now? I want to +fight you. Ah! you thought you could get rid of me like that! Why, +didn't you know the sort of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + +'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept your +challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + +'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to let his +victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll own to put a +bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance to-morrow.' + +'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister rejoined +contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of you.' + +'Oh, to be sure, _délicatesse_!... Ah, Marya Sergievna, I don't +know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on his cap. 'Till we meet again, +Fyodor Fedoritch!' + +He bowed and walked out. + +Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face burned, his +breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor anger; but it sickened +him to think what this man really was that he had once looked upon as a +friend. The idea of the duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to +him.... Once get free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, +and then to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I shall +be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed to smile to him, +to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be killed! not I!' he repeated +with a serene smile. On the table lay the letter to his mother.... He +felt a momentary pang at his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending +it off. There was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of +which a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all the +possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and himself in all +the agonies of misery and parting, and looked forward to the future with +hope. He swore to himself not to kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly +drawn to Masha. He paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and +directly after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening Kister +was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + +Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of evil, and +flirted charmingly with him. At first her unconsciousness wounded him, +then he took Masha's very unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was +rejoiced and reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him +every day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than passion. +Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated desires, and she +renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila Makarievna loved Kister +like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual followed his wife's lead. + +'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the hall and +gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and tenderly kissed her +hands. + +'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till we meet.' + +But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' house, he stood +up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness began looking for the +lighted windows.... All in the house was dark as in the tomb. + + +XI + + +Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an old major +of tried merit, came for him. The good old man growled to himself, bit +his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey Ivanovitch everything +unpleasant.... The carriage was brought to the door. Kister handed the +major two letters, one for his mother, the other for Masha. + +'What's this for?' + +'Well, one can never tell...' + +'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + +'Any way it's better...' + +The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side pocket of +his coat. + +'Let us start.' + +They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the village of +Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his former friend, the +perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, the birds were twittering +peacefully; not far from the copse a peasant was tilling the ground. +While the seconds were marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, +examining and loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at +one another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, swinging a +flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, with folded arms and +scowling brow. The decisive moment arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister +went rapidly towards the barrier, but he had not gone five steps before +Avdey fired, Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His +head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack on the +grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it possible?' whispered the +dying man. + +Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and sunken face +was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He looked at the adjutant +and the major, bent his head like a guilty man, got on his horse without +a word, and rode slowly straight to the colonel's quarters. + +Masha... is living to this day. + + + + + + +THREE PORTRAITS + + +'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of life in the +country. I knew a country gentleman of the Vologodsky district, who used +on every suitable occasion to repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I +have no neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that happy +mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the most thickly +peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by a vast number of dear +neighbours, from highly respectable and highly respected country +gentlemen, attired in ample frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, +down to regular loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a +so-called shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I +chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He had served in +the army, had retired and settled for good and all in the country. +According to his story, he had served for two years in the B------ +regiment. But I am totally unable to comprehend how that man could have +performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but even for two +days. He was born 'for a life of peace and country calm,' that is to +say, for lazy, careless vegetation, which, I note parenthetically, is +not without great and inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair +property, and without giving too much thought to its management, spent +about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent cook--my +friend was fond of good fare--and ordered too from Moscow all the newest +French books and magazines. In Russian he read nothing but the reports +of his bailiff, and that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not +go out shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till dinner-time +and at dinner. He would look through plans of some sort, or go round to +the stables or to the threshing barn, and joke with the peasant women, +who, to be sure, in his presence wielded their flails in leisurely +fashion. After dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the +looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed of two or +three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and unconcernedly with +one of them, play blind-man's-buff with them, return home rather late +and promptly fall into a heroic sleep. He could never be bored, for he +never gave himself up to complete inactivity; and in the choice of +occupations he was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child +with the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no particular +attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced to get a glimpse of +the track of a wolf or a fox, he would let his horse go at full gallop +over such ravines that to this day I cannot understand how it was he did +not break his neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of +persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know their own +value, that under their appearance of indifference strong and violent +passions lie concealed. But he would have laughed in one's face if he +could have guessed that one cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed +I must own I believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in +youth some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so sweetly +called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long ago died out. He was +rather stout and enjoyed superb health. In our day one cannot help +liking people who think little about themselves, because they are +exceedingly rare... and my friend had almost forgotten his own +personality. I fancy, though, that I have said too much about him +already, and my prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero +of my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + +One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, gathered +together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the whole morning out, had +run down a couple of foxes and a number of hares, and had returned home +in that supremely agreeable frame of mind which comes over every +well-regulated person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. +The wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging the +bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's house. We +reached the house, got off our horses.... On the steps I stood still and +looked round: long storm-clouds were creeping heavily over the grey sky; +a dark-brown bush was writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; +the yellow grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; +flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes among the +bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among the light brittle +twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped whistling. In the village +there was the hoarse barking of dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was +with a genuine sense of comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The +shutters were closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of +dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, there were +eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a fire glowed cheerfully +on the hearth, and an old and very stately-looking butler, with a huge +bald head, wearing an English dress, stood before another table on which +was pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by light +savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by another venerable man, +engaged in icing champagne--'according to the strictest rules of the +art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly pleasant. +We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's shooting, and +recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' After dining pretty +heartily, we settled comfortably into ample arm-chairs round the fire; a +huge silver bowl made its appearance on the table, and in a few minutes +the white flame of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable +intention 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some taste; +he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal an influence on +the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light of a lamp, and so he gave +orders that only two candles should be left in the room. Strange +half-shadows quivered on the walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the +fire in the hearth and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly +agreeable sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat +boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + +Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin proverb +says, like everything in the world. Our conversation that evening was +particularly many-sided and lively. From details it passed to rather +serious general questions, and lightly and casually came back to the +daily incidents of life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all +sank into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is flying +over. + +I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my tongue because +my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three dusty portraits in black +wooden frames. The colours were rubbed and cracked in places, but one +could still make out the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a +young woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up high, in +the style of the eighties of last century. On her right, upon a +perfectly black background, there stood out the full, round face of a +good-natured country gentleman of five-and-twenty, with a broad, low +brow, a thick nose, and a good-humoured smile. The French powdered +coiffure was utterly out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic +face. The artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson +colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding some +unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was the work of some +other more skilful hand, represented a man of thirty, in the green +uniform, with red facings, of the time of Catherine, in a white shirt, +with a fine cambric cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the +other lay on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of +insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew together over +the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely discernible lips played +an evil smile. + +'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch asked me. + +'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + +'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three persons?' + +'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + +Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the portraits, and +in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, +'this lady was the adopted child of my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna +N.N., called Lutchinov, who died forty years ago unmarried. This +gentleman,' he pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a +lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, expired by the +will of God in the year seventeen hundred and ninety. And this +gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of being related, is a certain +Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... +Kindly take note of the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the +heart should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, would +be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, 'he went on in +his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm yourselves with patience, +and listen.' + +Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not proud of +my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all fearful prodigals. Though +that reproach cannot indeed be made against my great-grandfather, Ivan +Andreevitch Lutchinov; on the contrary, he had the character of being +excessively careful, even miserly--at any rate, in the latter years of +his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived through the reign +of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and had by his wife, my +great-grandmother, four children, three sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, +my grandfather, and one daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch +took into his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and +destitute orphan--Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just now. My +great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his existence, for they +used (when nothing particularly unlucky occurred) to send him a trifling +rent, but they had never seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, +deprived of the bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing +exceedingly, when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family +coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's hut. The +peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, ran up and saw their +master and mistress and all their young ones, except the eldest, +Vassily, who was left behind in Petersburg. From that memorable day down +to the very day of his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. +He built himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure of +conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, and began +living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan Andreevitch was a man of +immense height, thin, silent, and very deliberate in all his movements. +He never wore a dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen +him without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his hands +clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. Every day he +used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, which he had planted with +his own hand; and before his death he had the pleasure of enjoying the +shade of those trees. Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his +words; a proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable fact +that in the course of twenty years he had not said a single word to his +wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with Anna Pavlovna altogether were of +a very curious sort. She directed the whole management of the household; +at dinner she always sat beside her husband--he would mercilessly have +chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word to her--and +yet he never spoke to her, never touched her hand. Anna Pavlovna was a +pale, broken-spirited woman, completely crushed. She prayed every day on +her knees in church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they +had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, lived on very +cordial terms with one another. They did say too that Anna Pavlovna had +been untrue to her matrimonial vows; that her conduct had come to her +husband's knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, +even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last illness, she +never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. One night, Anna +Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's bedroom--he suffered from +sleeplessness--a lamp was burning before the holy picture. My +grandfather's servant, Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words +later, went out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and +sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, tried to +say something--stretched out her hands... Ivan Andreevitch looked at +her, and in a faint voice, but resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant +went in; Anna Pavlovna hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her +place. + +Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. They grew up +in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan Andreevitch's strange +treatment of his wife. They all loved Anna Pavlovna passionately, but +did not dare to show their love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof +from them.... You remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his +death he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is the +force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan Ivanovitch, were +simple, good-hearted people, quiet and depressed. My grand'tante Natalia +married, as you are aware, a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life +she cherished an unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But +their brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that Ivan +Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then twelve. His father +confided him to the care of a distant kinsman, a man no longer young, a +bachelor, and a terrible Voltairean. + +Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but was +well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French excellently, and was +renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. He was considered one of the +most brilliant young men of the beginning of the reign of Catherine. My +father used often to tell me that he had known more than one old lady +who could not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt +emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional strength +of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and daring, reserved in +the extreme, and--according to the testimony of all his +contemporaries--fascinatingly, captivatingly attractive. He had no +conscience, no heart, no principle, though no one could have called him +positively a bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his +vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When Vassily +Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling affectionately, when +he wanted to fascinate any one, they say it was impossible to resist him; +and even people, thoroughly convinced of the coldness and hardness of +his heart, were more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his +personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, and made +other people, too, work for his advantage; and he was always successful +in everything, because he never lost his head, never disdained using +flattery as a means, and well understood how to use it. + +Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, he came for +a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant officer of the Guards, +and in that time succeeded positively in turning the head of the grim +old man, his father. Strange to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with +enjoyment to his son's stories of some of his _conquests_. His +brothers were speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of +a higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder of him +than any of her other children who were so sincerely devoted to her. + +Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily to visit his +people, but also with the second object of getting as much money as +possible from his father. He lived sumptuously in the glare of publicity +in Petersburg, and had made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get +round his father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on +this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his other +children together during twenty years spent under his roof, Vassily +followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what you can!' + +Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such another tall, +thin, taciturn person as his master. They say that this man Yuditch was +partly responsible for Ivan Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna +Pavlovna; they say he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue +with one of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely Yuditch +deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would be difficult to +conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory is held in veneration by +all my house-serfs to this day. My great-grandfather put unbounded +confidence in Yuditch. In those days landowners used to have money, but +did not put it into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in +chests, under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his +money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the head of his +bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to Yuditch. Every evening as +he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch used to bid him open the coffer in his +presence, used to tap in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a +stick, and every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and +carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these doings, and +burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred coffer. In the course of +five or six days he had _softened_ Yuditch, that is, he had worked +on the old man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young +master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on a careworn +and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer Yuditch's questions, +and at last told him that he had lost at play, and should make an end of +himself if he could not get money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, +flung himself on his knees before him, begged him to think of God, not +to be his own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering +a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously knocking at +his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway Yuditch pale and +trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily took in the whole position +at a glance. At first, for a long while, he refused to take it. With +tears Yuditch repeated, 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... +Vassily at last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to +Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of crockery. He +reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags with his stick, and not +noticing the hardly perceptible difference in the sound, and by Saturday +he hoped to obtain and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, +so he did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by Saturday +Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to win the sum from a +rich neighbour at cards, and instead of that, he lost it all. Meantime, +Saturday had come; it came at last to the turn of the bags filled with +broken crocks. Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + +'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + +'You stole the money?' + +'No, sir.' + +'Then some one took the key from you?' + +'I didn't give the key to any one.' + +'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + +'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + +'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So you're deceiving +me! For the last time I tell you--confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and +folded his hands behind his back. + +'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. 'A stick!' + +'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + +'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a thief! O +Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + +'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' Yuditch +articulated with effort. + +'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your service!' + +The servants came in. + +'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan Andreevitch's lips were +white and twitching. He walked up and down the room like a wild beast in +a small cage. + +The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + +'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to undertake him +myself, eh?' + +Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + +'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last time I tell +you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + +'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + +'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood be on my +head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The flogging began.... The door +suddenly opened, and Vassily came in. He was almost paler than his +father, his hands were shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare +a row of even, white teeth. + +'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I took the +money.' + +The servants stopped. + +'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + +'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily Ivanovitch the key +of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily Ivanovitch! why does your honour +trouble?' + +'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, Vassily, +thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you anyway. Why didn't +you tell me all about it directly? Hey, you there! why are you standing +still? do you too resist my authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, +my pretty gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + +The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + +'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The men did not +heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon them.... They stepped +back. + +'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his stick, he +approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched at the handle of his +sword, and bared it to half its length. Every one was trembling. Anna +Pavlovna, attracted by the noise, showed herself at the door, pale and +scared. + +A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. He tottered, +dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an arm-chair, hiding his face +in both hands. No one stirred, all stood rooted to the spot, Vassily +like the rest. He clutched the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his +eyes glittered with a weary, evil light.... + +'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in a low +voice, not taking his hands from his face. + +The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, then +suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his mother's hand... +and two hours later he had left the place. He went back to Petersburg. + +In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the steps of the +house serfs' hut. The servants were all round him, sympathising with him +and bitterly reproaching their young master. + +'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... why do you +abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare say is not very happy at +his audacity....' + +In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father again. +Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably with such a load of +sorrow on his heart as God grant none of us may ever know. Vassily +Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into the world, enjoyed himself in his own +way, and squandered money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I +cannot tell for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart +and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was passionately +attached to him and aided him in all his numerous manoeuvres. I do not +intend to relate in detail all the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was +possessed of such unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such +inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I must own I can +understand the complete sway that unprincipled person exercised even +over the noblest natures. + +Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, Vassily +Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He fought a duel, +seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced to leave the capital; he +was banished to his estate, and forbidden to leave it. Vassily +Ivanovitch was thirty years old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with +what feelings he left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used +to, and came into the country. They say that he got out of the hooded +cart several times on the road, flung himself face downwards in the snow +and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would have known him as the gay and +charming Vassily Ivanovitch they had seen before. He did not talk to any +one; went out shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid +caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in his ridicule +of his brothers, and of their wives (they were both married by that +time).... + +I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga Ivanovna. She +had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; she all but died on the +road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, as they say, in the fear of God and +her betters. It must be admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna +both treated her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint +spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily Ivanovitch. While +Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not dare even to wonder about the +cause of the strange, dumb feud between their parents, Olga was from her +earliest years disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like +Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. She was +devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old Lutchinov she +detested, and more than once, sitting at table, she shot such black +looks at him, that even the servant handing the dishes felt +uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never noticed these glances, for he +never took the slightest notice of his family. + +At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, but some bold +questions of Olga's forced her to complete silence. The children of Ivan +Andreevitch adored Olga, and the old lady too was fond of her, but not +with a very ardent affection. + +Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and every strong +feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear a proof of Vassily's +captivating charm as that he had made even his mother love him +passionately. Demonstrations of tenderness on the part of children were +not in the spirit of the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that +Olga did not dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna +Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said good-night to her. +Twenty years later, Russian girls began to read romances of the class of +_The Adventures of Marquis Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the +Cottage in the Forest_; they began to play the clavichord and to sing +songs in the style of the once very well-known: + + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. + + +But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born in 1757) +our country beauties had no notion of such accomplishments. It is +difficult for us now to form a clear conception of the Russian miss of +those days. We can indeed judge from our grandmothers of the degree of +culture of girls of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is +one to distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of their +long lives from what they were in the days of their youth? + +Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong Russian accent: +in her day there was as yet no talk of French emigrants. In fact, with +all her fine qualities, she was still pretty much of a savage, and I +dare say in the simplicity of her heart, she had more than once +chastised some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + +Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna had been +betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch Rogatchov, a very +good-natured and straightforward fellow. Nature had forgotten to put any +spice of ill-temper into his composition. His own serfs did not obey +him, and would sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and +leave poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could trouble the +peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been stout and indolent, +had never been in the government service, and was fond of going to +church and singing in the choir. Look, gentlemen, at this round, +good-natured face; glance at this mild, beaming smile... don't you +really feel it reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals +to drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with him his +Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every possible way. +Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on Ivan Andreevitch on his +own account, fell in love with Olga Ivanovna, and offered her his hand +and heart--not to her personally, but to her benefactors. Her +benefactors gave their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga +Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the words of my +grandmother, 'such refinements were not the thing.' Olga soon got used +to her betrothed, however; it was impossible not to feel fond of such a +gentle and amiable creature. Rogatchov had received no education +whatever; his French consisted of the one word _bonjour_, and he +secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose person had +taught him the following lines, as a French song: 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! +Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa--I adore you--me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed +song he always used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His +father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore a long +nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded with a smile. +From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, +father and son, had been tremendously busy. They had been having their +house entirely transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a +friendly way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had +not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put off the +wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan Andreevitch died; the +wedding was deferred till the following spring. In the winter Vassily +Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov was presented to him; he received him +coldly and contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by +his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a leaf at the +very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled nervously. Vassily once +almost annihilated him altogether--by making him a bet, that he, +Rogatchov, was not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost +cried with, embarrassment, but--actually!--a smile, a stupid, nervous +smile refused to leave his perspiring face! Vassily toyed deliberately +with the ends of his neckerchief, and looked at him with supreme +contempt. Pavel Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, +and after an interval of a few days--'for the sake of greater +formality'--he sallied off to Lutchinovka with the object of +'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent to the halls of his +ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed all over the countryside for his +eloquence--that is to say, for his capacity for enunciating without +faltering a rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of +bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not sustain his +reputation; he was even more disconcerted than his son, Pavel +Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite inarticulate, and though he +had never been used to taking vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to +carry things off'--he found Vassily at lunch,--tried at least to clear +his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in making the +slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel Afanasievitch whispered to his +parent, 'Well, father?' Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a +whisper, 'Don't speak of it!' + +The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at Lutchinovka. Though +indeed they were not the only people intimidated by Vassily; he awakened +in his own brothers, in their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an +instinctive feeling of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid +him in every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but +apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to them. Suddenly, +at the beginning of the spring, he became once more the charming, +attractive person they had known of old... + +The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's unexpected +visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in particular, was fairly +disconcerted at the sight of Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very +quickly vanished. Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. +He took young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new +buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, with his own +hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, asked to be shown Afanasey +Lukitch's stud horses, himself trotted them out on a halter, and +altogether so affected the good-hearted children of the steppes by his +gracious affability that they both embraced him more than once. At home, +too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to turn every one's +head just as before. He contrived all sorts of laughable games, got hold +of musicians, invited the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, +told the old ladies the scandals of the town in the most amusing way, +flirted a little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, +fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every thing and +every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the Lutchinovs was suddenly +converted into a noisy, brilliant, enchanted palace of which the whole +countryside was talking. This sudden transformation surprised many and +delighted all. All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. +Sagacious persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been +crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw chances of +returning to the capital... but the true cause of Vassily Ivanovitch's +metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + +Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her beauty consisted +rather in the extraordinary softness and freshness of her shape, in the +quiet grace of her movements than in the strict regularity of her +features. Nature had bestowed on her a certain independence; her +bringing up--she had grown up without father or mother--had developed in +her reserve and determination. Olga did not belong to the class of quiet +and tame-spirited young ladies; but only one feeling had reached its +full possibilities in her as yet--hatred for her benefactor. Other more +feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's heart with +abnormal and painful violence... but she had not the cold pride, nor the +intense strength of will, nor the self-centred egoism, without which any +passion passes quickly away. + +The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive natures is +sometimes extremely violent; but they give way very quickly, especially +when it is a question of relentless conformity with accepted principles; +they are afraid of consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly +confess, women of that sort always make the strongest impression on me. +... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. Rubbish! +rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; nothing in the world +makes a strong impression on you, my dear fellow!) + +Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in race. Olga +Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her foster sister, Natalia. +How did this blood show itself, do you ask? Why, in everything; in the +lines of her hands, in her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her +glance, in her carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In +all these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am bound to +admit that the--how can one express it?--_la distinction_, which +had fallen to Olga Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's +notice had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the wilds, +she not only caught his attention, she was positively the sole cause of +the transformation of which I have just been speaking. + +Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy life; he could +not but be bored in the country; his brothers were good-natured fellows, +but extremely limited people: he had nothing in common with them. His +sister, Natalia, with the assistance of her husband, had brought into +the world in the course of three years no less than four babies; between +her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to church, +prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. There remained only +Olga--a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... Vassily did not notice her at +first... indeed, who does notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from +charity in the house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, +Vassily was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off the +heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, which come out +first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon as they begin to grow +green. He was walking in the garden in front of the house; he lifted his +head, and caught sight of Olga Ivanovna. + +She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a tabby +kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, and with great +satisfaction held up her little nose into the rather hot spring +sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white morning gown, with short +sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, girlish shoulders and arms were a picture +of freshness and health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her +thick, soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was only +just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so charmingly; there +was such seductive negligence, such modesty in the restful pose of her +figure, free from corsets, that Vassily Ivanovitch (a great +connoisseur!) halted involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred +to him that Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive +ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very sweet and +charming woman. He stole up to the window, stretched up on tiptoe, and +imprinted a silent kiss on Olga Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little +below the elbow. + +Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the air and +leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a smile kept her by the +arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her ears; he began to rally her on her +alarm... invited her to come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became +suddenly conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than +the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + +The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was suddenly +happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love with Olga, no! the word +'love' is not to be used lightly.... He had found an occupation, had set +himself a task, and rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did +not even remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's +betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was fully aware +that it was not for her to be his wife.... Possibly there was passion to +excuse him--not a very elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a +fairly strong and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like +a boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very well what he +wanted and what he was striving for. + +Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in the shortest +time, any one however shy or prejudiced against him. Olga soon ceased to +be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch led her into a new world. He ordered +a clavichord for her, gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly +well on the flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with +her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head turned +completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew how to tell her of +what had been till then unknown to her, and to tell her in a language +she could understand. Olga little by little gained courage to express +all her feelings to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the +words she could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her +back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily busied himself +with her education from no disinterested desire to awaken and develop +her talents. He simply wanted to draw her a little closer to himself; +and he knew too that an innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more +easily seduced through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an +exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for he treated +her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, there was nothing +specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried all he could to work on her +imagination, and often in the evening she left his side with such a +whirl of new images, phrases and ideas in her head that she could not +sleep all night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning +cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went to the +window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark distance. Vassily +filled every moment of her life; she could not think of any one else. As +for Rogatchov, she soon positively ceased to notice his existence. +Vassily had the tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; +but he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or arranged some +noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a boating party by night with +torches and music--he did not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a +chance to think clearly. + +But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov dimly felt that +he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had somehow become as it were +an outsider to her... but in the boundless goodness of his heart, he was +afraid of wounding her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and +prized her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what to +say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two months passed +by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, disappeared at last in Olga. +Rogatchov, feeble and tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had +no wish even to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she +surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + +Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of the bliss of +love; but it was not for long. Though Vassily--for lack of other +occupation--did not drop her, and even attached himself to her and +looked after her fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she +found no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away from +Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did not dare to +think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, and was devoured by +misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in carrying her along with him and +making her forget everything and every one. But the very next day he +would find her pale, speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on +her lips.... There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but +no difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a skilled +gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga Ivanovna; she was +continually betraying herself, turning pale, blushing, weeping... her +new part was utterly beyond her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his +restless and boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have +detected something strained and feverish. He played his brothers, +sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns at chess. He was +everlastingly on the alert. Not a single glance, a single movement, was +lost on him, yet he appeared the most heedless of men. Every morning he +faced the fray, and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the +least oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four +hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was healthy, fresh, +and good-humoured. + +Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded in +persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of delay. Then +he despatched him to Moscow to make various purchases, while he was +himself in correspondence with friends in Petersburg. He took all this +trouble, not so much from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural +bent and liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning +to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a violent outbreak +of passion for her, he would look at her, as he sometimes did at +Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a riddle to every one. In the +coldness of his relentless soul you felt the presence of a strange +almost southern fire, and even in the wildest glow of passion a breath +of icy chill seemed to come from the man. + +Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But when they +were alone, he played with her like a cat with a mouse, or frightened +her with sophistries, or was wearily, malignantly bored, or again flung +himself at her feet, swept her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and +there was no feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was +moved himself. + +One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting alone in his +room, attentively reading over the last letters he had received from +Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a faint creak at the door, and Olga +Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, came in. + +'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + +'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + +'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing there for?' +he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + +'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants to see +you,' she said. + +'Why, what's the matter?' + +'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + +Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and went in to +Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, pale and passive. + +'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + +Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + +'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + +He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... She tried +to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman had no possible +doubt of her condition left her. + +Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a couple of +steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily cautiously sat down by Olga, +kissed and chafed her hands, comforted her in whispers. She listened to +him, and silently, faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, +stealthily wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even +ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. Olga +Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and stifled sobs. Tears +are like a storm; after them one is always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna +had quieted down a little, and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, +like a child, Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender +promises, soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her +to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote two or three +letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a gold locket containing +the portrait of a black-browed, black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous +face, scrutinised her features slowly, and walked up and down the room +pondering. + +Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor Olga's red +and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After breakfast he proposed a +stroll in the garden to her. Olga followed Vassily, like a submissive +sheep. When two hours afterwards she came in from the garden she quite +broke down; she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down +on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable show of +remorse, informed her that he was secretly married--he was really as +much a bachelor as I am. Olga Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon--people +don't fall into swoons except on the stage--but she turned all at once +stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to marry Vassily +Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think about it. Vassily had begun +to explain to her the inevitableness of her parting from him and +marrying Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. Vassily +talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, blamed himself, +expressed his regret, but concluded all his remarks with the following +words: 'There's no going back on the past; we've got to act.' + +Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and shame; a +dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for death, and waited in +agony for Vassily's decision. + +'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at last. + +Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + +'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust to me, I +won't desert you... I will make everything right... rely upon me.' + +The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and deep, but +hopeless devotion. + +'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her at +parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly hands.... + +Next morning--Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her bed--her door +opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in the doorway. She was supported +by Vassily. In silence she got as far as an arm-chair, and in silence +she sat down. Vassily stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows +were knitted and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, +indignant, angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga +Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her lover, with a +terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on her knees with a shriek in +the middle of the room, and hid her face in her hands. + +'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and bent down to +her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching Olga by the arm. + +'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me not to be +hard on her.' + +'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + +'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + +This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in her chair, +and burst into sobs. + +Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung herself at +the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, raised her from the +ground, and led her to another arm-chair. Anna Pavlovna went on weeping +and muttering disconnected words.... + +'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the trouble may +yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + +Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + +'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at Olga Ivanovna, +'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable family with impunity...' + +Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + +'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + +'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, her youth, +he--you wish to say something'--he broke off, seeing that Olga made a +movement towards him.... + +Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + +'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her this very +day. You may be sure I will not let him make a laughing-stock of us....' + +'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + +He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence again. + +'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. Look, she +is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon me; I answer for +everything; in any case, wait till I return. I tell you again, don't +torture her, or yourself, and trust to me.' + +He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come with me, leave +her alone, I beg of you.' + +Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down to the +ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, without a word or a +movement, looked after them. + +Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in her ear, +'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' +he called, running swiftly down the stairs, 'Bourcier!' + +A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage with his +valet. + +That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to the +district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his servants. Pavel +Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, looking through a collection +of faded butterflies. With lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was +carefully, with a pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night +sphinx' moth, when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on +his shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + +'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some amazement. + +Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + +Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at Vassily, and +subsided with his mouth open and his hands clasped. + +'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are you meaning +to dance at your _wedding soon?_' + +'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and your sister +... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + +'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel +Afanasievitch.' + +'How so?' + +'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I know all; +you understand me, and I order you without delay to-morrow to marry +Olga.' + +'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from his seat; +'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of myself and there's no +need to give me orders.... I confess, Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite +understand you.' + +'You don't understand me?' + +'No, really, I don't understand you.' + +'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + +'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself put off +our wedding more than once? Except for you it would have taken place +long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking it off. What is the meaning +of your threats, your insistence?' + +Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + +'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated +emphatically. + +'Excuse me... I will... but...' + +'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + +'Who has confessed?' + +'Olga Ivanovna.' + +'Why, what has she confessed?' + +'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? I'm not a +stranger to you.' + +'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I positively +don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna confess?' + +'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + +'May God slay me...' + +'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you understand?' + +'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing Vassily. 'Olga +Ivanovna... you tell me...' + +'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'--Vassily with a smile +patted him on the shoulder--'though you do look so innocent.' + +'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you mean, +explain, for God's sake!' + +Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + +Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + +Vassily stamped. + +'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + +'Yes... your betrothed...' + +'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I never wish +to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Good-bye to her for ever! +What do you take me for? I'm being duped... I'm being duped... Olga +Ivanovna, how wrong of you, have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from +his eyes.) 'Thanks, Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never +wish to see her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful +Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, very well!' + +'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. 'Remember, +you've given me your word: the wedding's to-morrow.' + +'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I say again, +what do you take me for? You do me too much honour. I'm humbly obliged. +Excuse me.' + +'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + +'Sword... what for?' + +'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + +Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it a little +against the floor. + +'You want... to fight... me?' + +'Precisely so.' + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can I, only +think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man of honour, Vassily +Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + +'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so good as to +fight with me.' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + +'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + +'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You thought you +would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare him, you thought, he's +a coward, and he'll agree to anything directly... No, Vassily +Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much as you are, though I've not had city +breeding, and you won't succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse +me.' + +'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + +'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + +'Get me the sword--there--you know, in the loft... make haste....' + +Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became exceedingly pale, +hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put on a reddish coat with big +paste buttons... twisted a cravat round his neck... Vassily looked at +him, and twiddled the fingers of his right hand. + +'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + +'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and hurriedly +buttoned up his shirt. + +'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... what is it to +you... And believe me, I'll...' + +'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll kill me or +maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my honour; if I'm to die +then I must die.' + +Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old sword in a +torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen wore swords with +powder, but in the steppes they only put on powder twice a year. Eroshka +moved away to the door and burst out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed +him out of the room. + +'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some embarrassment, 'I can't +fight with you on the spot: allow me to put off our duel till to-morrow. +My father is not at home, and it would be as well for me to put my +affairs in order to--to be ready for anything.' + +'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + +'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + +'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of patience.... Either +give me your word to marry her at once, or fight...or I'll thrash you +with my cane like a coward,--do you understand?' + +'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + +But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, utterly +distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees before Rogatchov, and +clasped his legs.... + +'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it you are +about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, your honour? Sure, +he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the word, you say the word, and +we'll make an end of him, the insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, +my baby-boy, for the love of God!' + +A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there was even the +red beard of the village elder... + +'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + +'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are you about? +What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us all out of the light +of day.... Why are you fellows standing still? Take the uninvited guest +in hand and show him out of the house, so that not a trace be left of +him.' + +'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + +'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' said Pavel +Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, and you others, off +with you, do you hear?...' + +Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out a small +silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered from close by. +Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel Afanasievitch. + +'What's to be the end of this farce?' + +'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I do with +this crazy old woman?...' + +'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, and he +swiftly raised his cane... + +Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, snatched up the +sword, and rushed through another door into the garden. + +Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, painted +cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves in, and drew their +swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons in fencing, but now he was +scarcely capable of drawing a sword properly. The blades crossed. +Vassily was obviously playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel +Afanasievitch was breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into +Lutchinov's face. + +Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of people were +running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov heard the heart-rending +wail of old age...he recognised the voice of his father. Afanasey +Lukitch, bare-headed, with dishevelled hair, was running in front of +them all, frantically waving his hands.... + +With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent the sword +flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + +'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this foolery!' + +'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his eyes, and +shook all over. + +Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the summerhouse. + +'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + +Rogatchov shook his head. + +'Well, damn you, then!' + +Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed him to the +heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst into the summerhouse, +but Vassily had already jumped out of window... + +Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She rushed in +terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; took out his sword and +pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait in the place of the heart. Olga +shrieked and fell unconscious on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna +Pavlovna. He found her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are +avenged.' The poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + +Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two years later he +came back stricken with paralysis--tongue-tied. He found neither Anna +Pavlovna nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of +Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who could +understand his incoherent stuttering. + +1846. + + + + + + +ENOUGH + +A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + + +I + +II + +III + + +'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over the steep +mountainside down to the quiet little brook. 'Enough,' I said again, as +I drank in the resinous fragrance of the pinewood, strong and pungent in +the freshness of falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat +on the mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, +lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their pale green +blades.... 'Enough.' + +No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to keep firm +hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No more to brood over +the voluptuous sweetness of vague, seductive ecstasy, no more to run +after each fresh form of beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of +her delicate, strong wings. + +All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. What to me +now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than ever, the sunset floods +the heavens as though aflame with some triumphant passion? What to me +that, amid the soft peace and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces +hence, hidden in a thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung +his heart out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on +earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first love? All +this was, has been, has been again, and is a thousand times +repeated--and to think that it will last on so to all eternity--as +though decreed, ordained--it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + + +IV + + +Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me once--in +those happy days of old, when I too was aflame like the sunset and my +heart sang like the nightingale. + +There is no hiding it--everything has faded about me, all life has +paled. The light that gives life's colours depth and meaning--the light +that comes out of the heart of man--is dead within me.... No, not dead +yet--it feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + +Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to the grating +window of an old church, and leaned against the faulty pane. It was dark +under the low arched roof--a forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon +the ancient picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the +sacred face--stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered about it, +ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the feeble ray of +impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the light; and such the +darkness. + + +V + + +And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten friend, to +thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for ever, but shall not cease +to love till my life's end.... Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But +that I have no wish to speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, +in these wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and +through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I feel the +sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + +For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence in which I +am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on all my past... our +past.... No hope and no return; but no bitterness is in my heart and no +regret, and clearer than the blue of heaven, purer than the first snow +on mountain tops, fair memories rise up before me like the forms of +departed gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow procession +they follow one another like those draped Athenian figures we admired so +much--dost thou remember?--in the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + + +VI + + +I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, and sheds +brightness on all around him... I long to talk with thee of the time +when in my heart too that light burned bright with blessing... Listen... +and I will fancy thee sitting before me, gazing up at me with those +eyes--so fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to be +forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his heart thy +glance--that glance that seems to flow from depths unknown even as +mysterious springs--like ye, both clear and dark--that gush out into +some narrow, deep ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + + +VII + + +It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I had seen +thee for the first time and--not yet dreaming of what thou wouldst be to +me--already, silently, secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to +cross one of the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, +but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. The snow was +melting everywhere--steadily but slowly; there was the running of water +on all sides; a noiseless wind strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky +alike were steeped in one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was +there light; not one object stood out clear in the general whiteness, +everything looked both close and indistinct. I left my cart far behind +and walked swiftly over the ice of the river, and except the muffled +thud of my own steps heard not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides +by the first breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually +gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, a glad +tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within me... it drew me +on, it hastened me, and so strong was the flood of gladness within me, +that I stood still at last and with questioning eyes looked round me, as +I would seek some outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, +white, slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated a +flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome spring!' I shouted +aloud: 'welcome, life and love and happiness!' And at that instance, +with sweetly troubling shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image +blossomed aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and +radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only--that I am all filled +full of thee.... + + +VIII + + +I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures float before +me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my life I meet thee. Now an +old Russian garden rises up before me on the slope of a hillside, +lighted up by the last rays of the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars +peeps out the wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish +smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate stands +just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with faltering hand; and I +stand and wait and gaze at that gate and the sand of the garden +path--wonder and rapture in my heart. All that I behold seems new and +different; over all a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already +I catch the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a +bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my heart burns and +shudders in joyous dread before the approaching, the alighting +rapture.... + + +IX + + +Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. In rows +kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful chill, of something +grave and melancholy is wafted from the high, bare roof, from the huge, +branching columns. Thou standest at my side, mute, apart, as though +knowing me not. Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved +in stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the stained +windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, violently thrilling the +incense-clouded air, thrilling us within, rolled out the mighty flood of +the organ's notes... and I saw thee paler, rigid--thy glance caressed +me, glided higher and rose heavenwards--while to me it seemed none but +an immortal soul could look so, with such eyes... + + +X + + +Another picture comes back to me. + +No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; the low +walls of a little snug room shut us off from the whole world. What am I +saying? We are alone, alone in the whole world; except us two there is +nothing living--outside these friendly walls darkness and death and +emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not the rain +streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, his sightless eyes +are weeping. But with us all is peaceful and light and warm and +welcoming; something droll, something of childish innocence, like a +butterfly--isn't it so?--flutters about us. We nestle close to one +another, we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I +feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear that thou +livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is born on my face +before it is on thine, thou makest mute answer to my mute question, thy +thoughts, my thoughts are like the two wings of one bird, lost in the +infinite blue... the last barriers have fallen--and so soothed, so +deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished that we have +no need for word or look to pass between us.... Only to breathe, to +breathe together is all we want, to be together and scarcely to be +conscious that we are together.... + + +XI + + +Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September when we +walked through the deserted, still flowering garden of a forsaken palace +on the bank of a great river--not Russian--under the soft brilliance of +the cloudless sky. Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly +flowing river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of +voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the unfamiliar +monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws in the high sun-lit +treetops, and the tender words and smiles and looks, long, soft, +piercing to the very in-most soul, and the beauty, beauty in our lives, +about us, on all sides--it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat +in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of feeling--I cannot +forget it till the hour I die! How delicious were those few strangers +passing us with brief greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet +boats floating by (in one--dost thou remember?--stood a horse pensively +gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of the tiny ripples by +the bank, and the very bark of the distant dogs across the water, the +very shouts of the fat officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, +with outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We both felt +that better than those moments nothing in the world had been or would be +for us, that all else... But why compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: +enough. + + +XII + + +For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid them +farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, his gold, his +bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, grey earth; so the wick of +a smouldering lamp flickers up in a last bright flare and sinks into +cold ash. The wild creature has peeped out from its hole for the last +time at the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and +has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to sleep. Will he +have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun and the grass and the blue +kindly water?... + + +XIII + + +Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at the first, +absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in ourselves, we are not +aware of her harsh hand. While one can be deceived and has no shame in +lying, one can live and there is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full +truth, of that, indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can +reach locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the No.' +Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall to pieces, not +to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... of self-contempt,--calmly +to turn away from all, to say 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon +the empty breast, to save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, +the dignity of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal +hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the whole +universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher than the universe, +because he would know it was crushing him, and it would know it not. A +poor dignity! A sorry consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by +it, to have faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and +there's no refuting those words of menace: + + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' + + +I quoted these lines from _Macbeth_, and there came back to my mind +the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no ghosts, no fantastic, +unearthly powers are terrible; there are no terrors in the Hoffmann +world, in whatever form it appears.... What is terrible is that there is +nothing terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, uninteresting +and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked through and through with that +knowledge, once one has tasted of that bitter, no honey more seems +sweet, and even the highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of +perfect nearness, of complete devotion--even that loses all its magic; +all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its brevity. Yes; a +man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of eternal bliss, of undying +raptures, and lo, no trace is left of the very worm that devoured the +last relic of his withered tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, +when all is lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare +forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the fog and +turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once the gnats swarm up +on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, bustle, flutter up and down, +circle round one another... The sun is hidden--the gnats fall in a +feeble shower, and there is the end of their momentary life. + + +XIV + + +But are there no great conceptions, no great words of consolation: +patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; those words there are, +and many men live by them and for them. And yet it seems to me that if +Shakespeare could be born again he would have no cause to retract his +Hamlet, his Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in +human life: still the same motley picture--in reality so little +complex--would unroll before him in its terrifying sameness. The same +credulity and the same cruelty, the same lust of blood, of gold, of +filth, the same vulgar pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the +name... why, in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered +at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which the +many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, the same workings +of power, the same traditions of slavishness, the same innateness of +falsehood--in a word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old +unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear repeating his +cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words means: 'None is without +offence.' and he too would say 'enough!' he too would turn away. One +thing perhaps, may be: in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, +the great poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the +tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own virtue, and +sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too sumptuous a dinner at the +very time when his half-crushed victims try to find comfort in picturing +him, like Richard, haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + +But to what end? + +Why prove--picking out, too, and weighing words, smoothing and rounding +off phrases--why prove to gnats that they are really gnats? + + +XV + + +But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they are more +powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. Venus of Milo is, may +be, more real than Roman law or the principles of 1789. It may be +objected--how many times has the retort been heard!--that beauty itself +is relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other than the +European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of art confounds me; +its transitoriness, again its brevity, its dust and ashes--that is what +robs me of faith and courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, +may be, than nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no +picture of Ruysdäel, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted pedants or +disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art is the imitation of +nature. But at the end of all, nature is inexorable; she has no need to +hurry, and sooner or later she takes her own. Unconsciously and +inflexibly obedient to laws, she knows not art, as she knows not +freedom, as she knows not good; from all ages moving, from all ages +changing, she suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is +her child; but man's work--art--is hostile to her, just because it +strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the child of nature; but +she is the universal mother, and she has no preferences; all that exists +in her lap has arisen only at the cost of something else, and must in +its time yield its place to something else. She creates destroying, and +she cares not whether she creates or she destroys--so long as life be +not exterminated, so long as death fall not short of his dues.... And so +just as serenely she hides in mould the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus +as the simplest pebble, and gives the vile worm for food the priceless +verse of Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work of +of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the force of +nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian recklessly smashing +the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage yells with which he casts in +the fire the picture of Apelles? How are we, poor folks, poor artists to +be a match for this deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her +conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How stand +against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, unceasingly moving +upward? How have faith in the value and dignity of the fleeting images, +that in the dark, on the edge of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an +instant? + + +XVI + + +All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, said Schiller; +and nature in the incessant play of her rising, vanishing forms is not +averse to beauty. Does not she carefully deck the most fleeting of her +children--the petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly--in the +fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite lines? Beauty +needs not to live for ever to be eternal--one instant is enough for her. +Yes; that may be is true--but only there where personality is not, where +man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing spoiled appears +again and again for a thousand years as the same wing of the same +butterfly; there sternly, fairly, impersonally necessity completes her +circle... but man is not repeated like the butterfly, and the work of +his hands, his art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for +ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but strange and +dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... for one hour--as there +was, in the tale, a caliph for an hour. In this is our pre-eminence--and +our curse; each of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even +this _I_ is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on lines +laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware of his +significance, is aware that he is innately something noble, eternal--and +lives, and must live in the moment and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, +my friend, and aspire to the skies! The greatest among us are just those +who more deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; +though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as greatest, great? + +[Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's words +to Faust:-- + + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht-- + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + --AUTHOR'S NOTE.] + + +XVII + + +What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one cannot apply +such terms, even in the sense given them by the feeble tongue of man? +What can one say of the ordinary, common, second-rate, third-rate +toilers--whatsoever they may be--statesmen, men of science, +artists--above all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb +indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the field of +battle, if once the conception has stolen into their brains of the +nullity of everything human, of every sort of effort that sets before +itself a higher aim than the mere winning of bread? By what crowns can +they be lured for whom laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what +end will they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the +judgment of the fool'--of the old fool who cannot forgive them from +turning away from the old bogies--of the young fool who would force them +to kneel with him, to grovel with him before the new, lately discovered +idols? Why should they go back again into that jostling crowd of +phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat each other +alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is paltry and worthless? Why +'with impotence in their bones' should they struggle back into that +world where the peoples, like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in +the mire for handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed +adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that world where +only that is living which has no right to live, and each, stifling self +with his own shouting, hurries feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended +goal? No... no.... Enough... enough... enough! + + +XVIII + + +...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the original.--TRANSLATOR'S +NOTE.] + +1864. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +This file should be named 8tjew10.txt or 8tjew10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8tjew11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8tjew10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/8tjew10.zip b/old/8tjew10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c08798 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8tjew10.zip diff --git a/old/8tjew10h.htm b/old/8tjew10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e25d0a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8tjew10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11155 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> +<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev</TITLE> +<META HTTP-EQUIV="content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + PRE { font-family: monospaced; + margin-left: 2em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + // --> + </style> +</HEAD> +<BODY> +<H1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jew And Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev</H1> + +<pre> +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Jew And Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Turgenev + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8696] +[This file was first posted on August 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia, Charles Franks, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +</PRE> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES + </h1> + <center> + <b>BY IVAN TURGENEV<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <i>Translated from the Russian</i><br> + <i>By CONSTANCE GARNETT</i><br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + TO THE MEMORY OF STEPNIAK<br> + WHOSE LOVE OF TURGENEV<br> + SUGGESTED THIS TRANSLATION<br></b> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + In studying the Russian novel it is amusing to note the + childish attitude of certain English men of letters to the + novel in general, their depreciation of its influence and of + the public's 'inordinate' love of fiction. Many men of + letters to-day look on the novel as a mere story-book, as a + series of light-coloured, amusing pictures for their 'idle + hours,' and on memoirs, biographies, histories, criticism, + and poetry as the age's <i>serious</i> contribution to + literature. Whereas the reverse is the case. The most serious + and significant of all literary forms the modern world has + evolved is the novel; and brought to its highest development, + the novel shares with poetry to-day the honour of being the + supreme instrument of the great artist's literary skill. + </p> + <p> + To survey the field of the novel as a mere pleasure-garden + marked out for the crowd's diversion—a field of + recreation adorned here and there by the masterpieces of a + few great men—argues in the modern critic either an + academical attitude to literature and life, or a one-eyed + obtuseness, or merely the usual insensitive taste. The drama + in all but two countries has been willy-nilly abandoned by + artists as a coarse playground for the great public's romps + and frolics, but the novel can be preserved exactly so long + as the critics understand that to exercise a delicate art is + the one <i>serious</i> duty of the artistic life. It is no + more an argument against the vital significance of the novel + that tens of thousands of people—that everybody, in + fact—should to-day essay that form of art, than it is + an argument against poetry that for all the centuries droves + and flocks of versifiers and scribblers and rhymesters have + succeeded in making the name of poet a little foolish in + worldly eyes. The true function of poetry! That can only be + vindicated in common opinion by the severity and enthusiasm + of critics in stripping bare the false, and in hailing as the + true all that is animated by the living breath of beauty. The + true function of the novel! That can only be supported by + those who understand that the adequate representation and + criticism of human life would be impossible for modern men + were the novel to go the way of the drama, and be abandoned + to the mass of vulgar standards. That the novel is the most + insidious means of mirroring human society Cervantes in his + great classic revealed to seventeenth-century Europe. + Richardson and Fielding and Sterne in their turn, as great + realists and impressionists, proved to the eighteenth century + that the novel is as flexible as life itself. And from their + days to the days of Henry James the form of the novel has + been adapted by European genius to the exact needs, outlook, + and attitude to life of each successive generation. To the + French, especially to Flaubert and Maupassant, must be given + the credit of so perfecting the novel's technique that it has + become the great means of cosmopolitan culture. It was, + however, reserved for the youngest of European literatures, + for the Russian school, to raise the novel to being the + absolute and triumphant expression by the national genius of + the national soul. + </p> + <p> + Turgenev's place in modern European literature is best + defined by saying that while he stands as a great classic in + the ranks of the great novelists, along with Richardson, + Fielding, Scott, Balzac, Dickens, Thackeray, Meredith, + Tolstoi, Flaubert, Maupassant, he is the greatest of them + all, in the sense that he is the supreme artist. As has been + recognised by the best French critics, Turgenev's art is both + wider in its range and more beautiful in its form than the + work of any modern European artist. The novel modelled by + Turgenev's hands, the Russian novel, became <i>the</i> great + modern instrument for showing 'the very age and body of the + time his form and pressure.' To reproduce human life in all + its subtlety as it moves and breathes before us, and at the + same time to assess its values by the great poetic insight + that reveals man's relations to the universe around + him,—that is an art only transcended by Shakespeare's + own in its unique creation of a universe of great human + types. And, comparing Turgenev with the European masters, we + see that if he has made the novel both more delicate and more + powerful than their example shows it, it is because as the + supreme artist he filled it with the breath of poetry where + others in general spoke the word of prose. Turgenev's horizon + always broadens before our eyes: where Fielding and + Richardson speak for the country and the town, Turgenev + speaks for the nation. While Balzac makes defile before us an + endless stream of human figures, Turgenev's characters reveal + themselves as wider apart in the range of their spirit, as + more mysteriously alive in their inevitable essence, than do + Meredith's or Flaubert's, than do Thackeray's or + Maupassant's. Where Tolstoi uses an immense canvas in <i>War + and Peace</i>, wherein Europe may see the march of a whole + generation, Turgenev in <i>Fathers and Children</i> + concentrates in the few words of a single character, Bazarov, + the essence of modern science's attitude to life, that + scientific spirit which has transformed both European life + and thought. It is, however, superfluous to draw further + parallels between Turgenev and his great rivals. In England + alone, perhaps, is it necessary to say to the young novelist + that the novel can become anything, can be anything, + according to the hands that use it. In its application to + life, its future development can by no means be gauged. It is + the most complex of all literary instruments, the chief + method to-day of analysing the complexities of modern life. + If you love your art, if you would exalt it, treat it + absolutely seriously. If you would study it in its highest + form, the form the greatest artist of our time has + perfected—remember Turgenev. + </p> + <p> + EDWARD GARNETT. + </p> + <p> + November 1899. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#1">THE JEW</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#2">AN UNHAPPY GIRL</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#3">THE DUELLIST</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#4">THREE PORTRAITS</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#5">ENOUGH</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="1"></a> + <h2> + THE JEW + </h2> + <p> + ...'Tell us a story, colonel,' we said at last to Nikolai + Ilyitch. + </p> + <p> + The colonel smiled, puffed out a coil of tobacco smoke + between his moustaches, passed his hand over his grey hair, + looked at us and considered. We all had the greatest liking + and respect for Nikolai Ilyitch, for his good-heartedness, + common sense, and kindly indulgence to us young fellows. He + was a tall, broad-shouldered, stoutly-built man; his dark + face, 'one of the splendid Russian faces,' [Footnote: + Lermontov in the <i>Treasurer's Wife</i>.—AUTHOR'S + NOTE.] straight-forward, clever glance, gentle smile, manly + and mellow voice—everything about him pleased and + attracted one. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, listen then,' he began. + </p> + <p> + It happened in 1813, before Dantzig. I was then in the + E—— regiment of cuirassiers, and had just, I + recollect, been promoted to be a cornet. It is an + exhilarating occupation—fighting; and marching too is + good enough in its way, but it is fearfully slow in a + besieging army. There one sits the whole blessed day within + some sort of entrenchment, under a tent, on mud or straw, + playing cards from morning till night. Perhaps, from simple + boredom, one goes out to watch the bombs and redhot bullets + flying. + </p> + <p> + At first the French kept us amused with sorties, but they + quickly subsided. We soon got sick of foraging expeditions + too; we were overcome, in fact, by such deadly dulness that + we were ready to howl for sheer <i>ennui</i>. I was not more + than nineteen then; I was a healthy young fellow, fresh as a + daisy, thought of nothing but getting all the fun I could out + of the French... and in other ways too... you understand what + I mean... and this is what happened. Having nothing to do, I + fell to gambling. All of a sudden, after dreadful losses, my + luck turned, and towards morning (we used to play at night) I + had won an immense amount. Exhausted and sleepy, I came out + into the fresh air, and sat down on a mound. It was a + splendid, calm morning; the long lines of our fortifications + were lost in the mist; I gazed till I was weary, and then + began to doze where I was sitting. + </p> + <p> + A discreet cough waked me: I opened my eyes, and saw standing + before me a Jew, a man of forty, wearing a long-skirted grey + wrapper, slippers, and a black smoking-cap. This Jew, whose + name was Girshel, was continually hanging about our camp, + offering his services as an agent, getting us wine, + provisions, and other such trifles. He was a thinnish, + red-haired, little man, marked with smallpox; he blinked + incessantly with his diminutive little eyes, which were + reddish too; he had a long crooked nose, and was always + coughing. + </p> + <p> + He began fidgeting about me, bowing obsequiously. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you want?' I asked him at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I only—I've only come, sir, to know if I can't be + of use to your honour in some way...' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't want you; you can go.' + </p> + <p> + 'At your honour's service, as you desire.... I thought there + might be, sir, something....' + </p> + <p> + 'You bother me; go along, I tell you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly, sir, certainly. But your honour must permit me to + congratulate you on your success....' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, how did you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I know, to be sure I do.... An immense sum... + immense....Oh! how immense....' + </p> + <p> + Girshel spread out his fingers and wagged his head. + </p> + <p> + 'But what's the use of talking,' I said peevishly; 'what the + devil's the good of money here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! don't say that, your honour; ay, ay, don't say so. + Money's a capital thing; always of use; you can get anything + for money, your honour; anything! anything! Only say the word + to the agent, he'll get you anything, your honour, anything! + anything!' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't tell lies, Jew.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay! ay!' repeated Girshel, shaking his side-locks. 'Your + honour doesn't believe me.... Ay... ay....' The Jew closed + his eyes and slowly wagged his head to right and to left.... + 'Oh, I know what his honour the officer would like.... I + know,... to be sure I do!' + </p> + <p> + The Jew assumed an exceedingly knowing leer. + </p> + <p> + 'Really!' + </p> + <p> + The Jew glanced round timorously, then bent over to me. + </p> + <p> + 'Such a lovely creature, your honour, lovely!...' Girshel + again closed his eyes and shot out his lips. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, you've only to say the word... you shall see + for yourself... whatever I say now, you'll hear... but you + won't believe... better tell me to show you... that's the + thing, that's the thing!' + </p> + <p> + I did not speak; I gazed at the Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, all right then; well then, very good; so I'll show you + then....' + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Girshel laughed and slapped me lightly on the + shoulder, but skipped back at once as though he had been + scalded. + </p> + <p> + 'But, your honour, how about a trifle in advance?' + </p> + <p> + 'But you 're taking me in, and will show me some scarecrow?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, ay, what a thing to say!' the Jew pronounced with + unusual warmth, waving his hands about. 'How can you! Why... + if so, your honour, you order me to be given five hundred... + four hundred and fifty lashes,' he added hurriedly....' You + give orders—' + </p> + <p> + At that moment one of my comrades lifted the edge of his tent + and called me by name. I got up hurriedly and flung the Jew a + gold coin. + </p> + <p> + 'This evening, this evening,' he muttered after me. + </p> + <p> + I must confess, my friends, I looked forward to the evening + with some impatience. That very day the French made a sortie; + our regiment marched to the attack. The evening came on; we + sat round the fires... the soldiers cooked porridge. My + comrades talked. I lay on my cloak, drank tea, and listened + to my comrades' stories. They suggested a game of + cards—I refused to take part in it. I felt excited. + Gradually the officers dispersed to their tents; the fires + began to die down; the soldiers too dispersed, or went to + sleep on the spot; everything was still. I did not get up. My + orderly squatted on his heels before the fire, and was + beginning to nod. I sent him away. Soon the whole camp was + hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it + were waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night + came on. A long while I watched the dying flame.... The last + fire went out. 'The damned Jew was taking me in,' I thought + angrily, and was just going to get up. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my + ear. + </p> + <p> + I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and + whispered something. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The + Jew shrank into himself, and stepped warily over the short, + damp grass. I observed on one side a motionless, muffled-up + figure. The Jew beckoned to her—she went up to him. He + whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his head several + times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to + relate, I was breathless. + </p> + <p> + 'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, + 'you see. She's a little frightened at the moment, she's + frightened; but I've told her his honour the officer's a good + man, a splendid man.... Don't be frightened, don't be + frightened,' he went on—'don't be frightened....' + </p> + <p> + The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state + of dreadful confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel + too was fidgeting restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange + way.... + </p> + <p> + 'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as + it seemed, Girshel obeyed. + </p> + <p> + I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark + hood off her head. There was a conflagration in Dantzig: by + the faint, reddish, flickering glow of the distant fire I saw + the pale face of a young Jewess. Her beauty astounded me. I + stood facing her, and gazed at her in silence. She did not + raise her eyes. A slight rustle made me look round. Girshel + was cautiously poking his head in under the edge of the tent. + I waved my hand at him angrily,... he vanished. + </p> + <p> + 'What's your name?' I said at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Sara,' she answered, and for one instant I caught in the + darkness the gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped + eyes and little, even, flashing teeth. + </p> + <p> + I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, + and asked her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat + down. She was wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, + with round, chased silver buttons, and full sleeves. Her + thick black hair was coiled twice round her little head. I + sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. She + resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there + was a catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, + and timidly pressed her cold, shaking fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know Russian?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... a little.' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you like Russians?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I like them.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then, you like me too?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I like you.' + </p> + <p> + I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away + quickly.... + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, please, sir, please...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.' + </p> + <p> + She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once + turned away with a smile, and blushed. + </p> + <p> + I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her + eyelids and softly laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it?' + </p> + <p> + She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before. + </p> + <p> + Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook + his finger at her. She ceased laughing. + </p> + <p> + 'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me + sick!' + </p> + <p> + Girshel did not go away. + </p> + <p> + I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them + in his hand and pushed him out. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, me too....' she said. + </p> + <p> + I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them + like a cat. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, now I must have a kiss.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, please, please,' she faltered in a frightened and + beseeching voice. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you frightened of?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, nonsense....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, please.' + </p> + <p> + She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side + and clasped her hands. I let her alone. + </p> + <p> + 'If you like... here,' she said after a brief silence, and + she raised her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I + kissed it. Sara laughed again. + </p> + <p> + My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not + know what to do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am. + </p> + <p> + I turned to her again. + </p> + <p> + 'Sara, listen, I'm in love with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know.' + </p> + <p> + 'You know? And you're not angry? And do you like me too?' + </p> + <p> + Sara shook her head. + </p> + <p> + 'No, answer me properly.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, show yourself,' she said. + </p> + <p> + I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, + began scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled.... I could not + contain myself, and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She + jumped up and in one bound was at the entrance of the tent. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, what a shy thing you are!' + </p> + <p> + She did not speak and did not stir. + </p> + <p> + 'Come here to me....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir, good-bye. Another time.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of + words to her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake. + </p> + <p> + I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get + another glimpse of her nor of Girshel. + </p> + <p> + The whole night long I could not sleep a wink. + </p> + <p> + The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I + was playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Some one's asking for you, your honour.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who is it?' + </p> + <p> + 'A Jew.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can it be Girshel?' I wondered. I waited till the end of the + rubber, got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, 'your + honour, are you satisfied?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, you———!' (Here the colonel glanced + round. 'No ladies present, I believe.... Well, never mind, + any way.') 'Ah, bless you!' I responded, 'so you're making + fun of me, are you?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so, indeed! What a question!' + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, ay, your honour, you 're too bad,' Girshel said + reproachfully, but never ceasing smiling. 'The girl is young + and modest.... You frightened her, indeed, you did.' + </p> + <p> + 'Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what then? If one's given money, why not take it, sir?' + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I '11 let you off... + only, please, don't show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and + leave us in peace; do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + Girshel's eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you say? You like her?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a lovely creature! there's not another such anywhere. + And have you something for me now?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring + her and then go to the devil. I'll escort her home myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no, sir, no, that's impossible, sir,' the Jew rejoined + hurriedly. 'Ay, ay, that's impossible. I'll walk about near + the tent, your honour, if you like; I'll... I'll go away, + your honour, if you like, a little.... I'm ready to do your + honour a service.... I'll move away... to be sure, I will.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, mind you do.... And bring her, do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + 'Eh, but she's a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a + beauty, eh?' + </p> + <p> + Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'She's good-looking.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, then, give me another gold piece.' + </p> + <p> + I threw him a coin; we parted. + </p> + <p> + The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting + for a long while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It + struck two in the town. I was beginning to curse the Jew.... + Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I jumped up took her in my + arms... put my lips to her face.... It was cold as ice. I + could scarcely distinguish her features.... I made her sit + down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her + waist.... She did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she + broke into loud, convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to + soothe her, to persuade her.... She wept in torrents.... I + caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she did not resist, + made no answer to my questions and wept—wept, like a + waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out + of the tent. + </p> + <p> + Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me. + </p> + <p> + 'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. + Take Sara away.' + </p> + <p> + The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and + clutched hold of him. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. + We'll see each other again some other time.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my + hand and pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... + </p> + <p> + For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my + Jewess. Girshel did not make his appearance, and no one had + seen him in the camp. I slept rather badly at nights; I was + continually haunted by wet, black eyes, and long eyelashes; + my lips could not forget the touch of her cheek, smooth and + fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging party + to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were + ransacking the houses, I remained in the street, and did not + dismount from my horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my + foot.... + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us, Sara!' + </p> + <p> + She was pale and excited. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting + us.... Your honour....' + </p> + <p> + She recognised me and flushed red. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, do you live here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where?' + </p> + <p> + Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse + and galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and + tattered Jewess was trying to tear out of the hands of my + long sergeant, Siliavka, three hens and a duck. He was + holding his booty above his head, laughing; the hens clucked + and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading + their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the + house I heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called + to my men and told them to leave the Jews alone, not to take + anything from them. The soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on + his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as he called her, + 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a smile. + </p> + <p> + 'What has become of you all this time?' + </p> + <p> + She dropped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'I will come to you to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the evening?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir, in the morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' + </p> + <p> + 'No... no, I won't.' + </p> + <p> + I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me + handsomer than ever. I remember I was particularly struck by + the even, amber tint of her face and the bluish lights in her + black hair.... I bent down from my horse and warmly pressed + her little hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the + party, and galloped off. + </p> + <p> + The next day I got up very early, dressed, and went out of + the tent. It was a glorious morning; the sun had just risen + and every blade of grass was sparkling in the dew and the + crimson glow. I clambered on to a high breastwork, and sat + down on the edge of an embrasure. Below me a stout, cast-iron + cannon stuck out its black muzzle towards the open country. I + looked carelessly about me... and all at once caught sight of + a bent figure in a grey wrapper, a hundred paces from me. I + recognised Girshel. He stood without moving for a long while + in one place, then suddenly ran a little on one side, looked + hurriedly and furtively round... uttered a cry, squatted + down, cautiously craned his neck and began looking round + again and listening. I could see all his actions very + clearly. He put his hand into his bosom, took out a scrap of + paper and a pencil, and began writing or drawing something. + Girshel continually stopped, started like a hare, attentively + scrutinised everything around him, and seemed to be sketching + our camp. More than once he hid his scrap of paper, half + closed his eyes, sniffed at the air, and again set to work. + At last, the Jew squatted down on the grass, took off his + slipper, and stuffed the paper in it; but he had not time to + regain his legs, when suddenly, ten steps from him, there + appeared from behind the slope of an earthwork the whiskered + countenance of the sergeant Siliavka, and gradually the whole + of his long clumsy figure rose up from the ground. The Jew + stood with his back to him. Siliavka went quickly up to him + and laid his heavy paw on his shoulder. Girshel seemed to + shrink into himself. He shook like a leaf and uttered a + feeble cry, like a hare's. Siliavka addressed him + threateningly, and seized him by the collar. I could not hear + their conversation, but from the despairing gestures of the + Jew, and his supplicating appearance, I began to guess what + it was. The Jew twice flung himself at the sergeant's feet, + put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a torn check + handkerchief, untied a knot, and took out gold coins.... + Siliavka took his offering with great dignity, but did not + leave off dragging the Jew by the collar. Girshel made a + sudden bound and rushed away; the sergeant sped after him in + pursuit. The Jew ran exceedingly well; his legs, clad in blue + stockings, flashed by, really very rapidly; but Siliavka + after a short run caught the crouching Jew, made him stand + up, and carried him in his arms straight to the camp. I got + up and went to meet him. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! your honour!' bawled Siliavka,—'it's a spy I'm + bringing you—a spy!...' The sturdy Little-Russian was + streaming with perspiration. 'Stop that wriggling, devilish + Jew—now then... you wretch! you'd better look out, I'll + throttle you!' + </p> + <p> + The luckless Girshel was feebly prodding his elbows into + Siliavka's chest, and feebly kicking.... His eyes were + rolling convulsively.... + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter?' I questioned Siliavka. + </p> + <p> + 'If your honour'll be so good as to take the slipper off his + right foot,—I can't get at it.' He was still holding + the Jew in his arms. + </p> + <p> + I took off the slipper, took out of it a carefully folded + piece of paper, unfolded it, and found an accurate map of our + camp. On the margin were a number of notes written in a fine + hand in the Jews' language. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Siliavka had set Girshel on his legs. The Jew + opened his eyes, saw me, and flung himself on his knees + before me. + </p> + <p> + Without speaking, I showed him the paper. + </p> + <p> + 'What's this?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's—-nothing, your honour. I was only....' His voice + broke. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + He did not understand me, muttered disconnected words, + pressed my knees in terror.... + </p> + <p> + 'Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + 'I!' he cried faintly, and shook his head. 'How could I? I + never did; I'm not at all. It's not possible; utterly + impossible. I'm ready—I'll—this minute—I've + money to give... I'll pay for it,' he whispered, and closed + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The smoking-cap had slipped back on to his neck; his reddish + hair was soaked with cold sweat, and hung in tails; his lips + were blue, and working convulsively; his brows were + contracted painfully; his face was drawn.... + </p> + <p> + Soldiers came up round us. I had at first meant to give + Girshel a good fright, and to tell Siliavka to hold his + tongue, but now the affair had become public, and could not + escape 'the cognisance of the authorities.' + </p> + <p> + 'Take him to the general,' I said to the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour, your honour!' the Jew shrieked in a voice of + despair. 'I am not guilty... not guilty.... Tell him to let + me go, tell him...' + </p> + <p> + 'His Excellency will decide about that,' said Siliavka. 'Come + along.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour!' the Jew shrieked after me—'tell him! + have mercy!' + </p> + <p> + His shriek tortured me; I hastened my pace. Our general was a + man of German extraction, honest and good-hearted, but strict + in his adherence to military discipline. I went into the + little house that had been hastily put up for him, and in a + few words explained the reason of my visit. I knew the + severity of the military regulations, and so I did not even + pronounce the word 'spy,' but tried to put the whole affair + before him as something quite trifling and not worth + attention. But, unhappily for Girshel, the general put doing + his duty higher than pity. + </p> + <p> + 'You, young man,' he said to me in his broken Russian, + 'inexperienced are. You in military matters yet inexperienced + are. The matter, of which you to me reported have, is + important, very important.... And where is this man who taken + was? this Jew? where is he?' + </p> + <p> + I went out and told them to bring in the Jew. They brought in + the Jew. The wretched creature could scarcely stand up. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' pronounced the general, turning to me; 'and where's + the plan which on this man found was?' + </p> + <p> + I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away + again, screwed up his eyes, frowned.... + </p> + <p> + 'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who + arrested him?' + </p> + <p> + 'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in + your defence?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... + indeed,... your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your + Excellency; ask his honour the officer.... I'm an agent, your + Excellency, an honest agent.' + </p> + <p> + 'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an + undertone, wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you + explain this, my friend?' 'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, + I'm not guilty.' + </p> + <p> + 'That is not probable, however. You were—how is it said + in Russian?—taken on the fact, that is, in the very + facts!' + </p> + <p> + 'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.' + </p> + <p> + 'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?' + </p> + <p> + 'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your + Excellency!' + </p> + <p> + The general looked at Siliavka. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer + here took the plan out of his slipper.' + </p> + <p> + The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent. + </p> + <p> + 'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....' + </p> + <p> + 'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? + Confess....' + </p> + <p> + 'How could I?' + </p> + <p> + 'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?' + </p> + <p> + The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the + skirts of his gown. + </p> + <p> + 'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief + silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor + Schliekelmann?' + </p> + <p> + They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general's adjutant. + Girshel began to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes + seemed starting out of his head. The adjutant came in. The + general gave him the requisite instructions. The secretary + showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an instant. Two or + three officers peeped into the room inquisitively. + </p> + <p> + 'Have pity, your Excellency,' I said to the general in German + as best I could; 'let him off....' + </p> + <p> + 'You, young man,' he answered me in Russian, 'I was saying to + you, are inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, + and me no more to trouble.' + </p> + <p> + Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general's feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, + your Excellency; I have a wife... your Excellency, a + daughter... have mercy....' + </p> + <p> + 'It's no use!' + </p> + <p> + 'Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty... it's the first time, + your Excellency, the first time, believe me!' + </p> + <p> + 'You furnished no other documents?' + </p> + <p> + 'The first time, your Excellency,... my wife... my + children... have mercy....' + </p> + <p> + 'But you are a spy.' + </p> + <p> + 'My wife... your Excellency... my children....' + </p> + <p> + The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of + it. + </p> + <p> + 'According to the law, hang the Hebrew,' he said + constrainedly, with the air of a man forced to do violence to + his heart, and sacrifice his better feelings to inexorable + duty—'hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg you to draw up a + report of the occurrence....' + </p> + <p> + A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the + ordinary timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his + face was reflected the horrible agony that comes before + death. He writhed like a wild beast trapped, his mouth stood + open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, he positively + leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had on + only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on + again... his gown fell open... his cap had fallen off.... + </p> + <p> + We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking. + </p> + <p> + 'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched + creature.' + </p> + <p> + 'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, + and not without emotion, 'for a warning to others.' + </p> + <p> + 'For pity's sake....' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the + general, and he motioned me imperiously to the door. + </p> + <p> + I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no + post anywhere, I remained at no great distance from the + general's house. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by + Siliavka and three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of + stupefaction, and could hardly move his legs. Siliavka went + by me to the camp, and soon returned with a rope in his + hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a look of + strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope + the Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The + soldiers stood silently about him, and stared grimly at the + earth. I went up to Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a + baby, and did not even look at me. With a hopeless gesture I + went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, and closed my + eyes.... + </p> + <p> + Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I + raised my head and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She + rushed up to me, and clutched at my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + 'Where? what for? let us stop here.' + </p> + <p> + 'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!' + </p> + <p> + 'To what father?' + </p> + <p> + 'My father; they are going to hang him....' + </p> + <p> + 'What! is Girshel...?' + </p> + <p> + 'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, + wringing her hands in despair: 'only come... come....' + </p> + <p> + We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a + solitary birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... + Sara pointed to them without speaking.... + </p> + <p> + 'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The + soldiers won't obey me.' + </p> + <p> + Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head + was going round. + </p> + <p> + 'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in + running here? It would be better for me to go to the general + again; let's go together; who knows, we may persuade him.' + </p> + <p> + Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were + crazy. + </p> + <p> + 'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for + your father, but the general can. Let's go to him.' + </p> + <p> + 'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned.... + </p> + <p> + I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off. + </p> + <p> + 'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, + tell them to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the + general.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, sir.' + </p> + <p> + Ivanov ran off. + </p> + <p> + We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I + begged, persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara + tore her hair and rushed at the sentinels; they would not let + us pass. + </p> + <p> + Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, + and ran at breakneck pace towards the open country, to her + father. I followed her. Every one stared at us, wondering. + </p> + <p> + We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and + picture it, gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor + Girshel. I flew into a rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw + us and fell on his daughter's neck. Sara clung to him + passionately. + </p> + <p> + The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just + beginning to thank me... I turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not + pardoned?' + </p> + <p> + I did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'No?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, + look... she, this girl, see—you know—she's my + daughter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' I answered, and turned away again. + </p> + <p> + 'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! + I wouldn't for anything...' + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted + your money, your honour, I must own... but not for + anything....' + </p> + <p> + I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his + accomplice.... + </p> + <p> + 'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, + 'I'll command her... I... do you understand?... everything... + I'll go to every length....' + </p> + <p> + He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him + hurriedly. Sara silently and passionately embraced him. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant came up to us. + </p> + <p> + 'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders + to place you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the + soldiers to the Jew... 'quickly.' + </p> + <p> + Siliavka went up to the Jew. + </p> + <p> + 'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had + come with him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor + girl....' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course. Certainly.' + </p> + <p> + The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was + muttering something to her in Yiddish.... + </p> + <p> + The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's + arms, and carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at + once she broke from their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... + Siliavka stopped her. Sara pushed him away; her face was + covered with a faint flush, her eyes flashed, she stretched + out her arms. + </p> + <p> + 'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, + thrice accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with + the curse of Dathan and Abiram, the curse of poverty and + sterility and violent, shameful death! May the earth open + under your feet, godless, pitiless, bloodthirsty dogs....' + </p> + <p> + Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They + lifted her up and carried her away. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it + was they had been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the + camp with Sara. He was really ludicrous, in spite of all the + horror of his position. The intense anguish of parting with + life, his daughter, his family, showed itself in the Jew in + such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, and + wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was + horrible—intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch + was half dead with terror.... + </p> + <p> + 'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to + tell you... a lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know + me. I'm an agent, an honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a + minute, a little minute, a tiny minute—wait! Let me go; + I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I know, she's + at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he + bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the + quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The + soldiers were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a + deafening shriek, and wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your + Excellency, have pity on the unhappy father of a family. I'll + give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give, your + Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare + me! have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your + Excellency, the general and commander-in-chief!' + </p> + <p> + They put the noose on the Jew.... I shut my eyes and rushed + away. + </p> + <p> + I remained for a fortnight under arrest. I was told that the + widow of the luckless Girshel came to fetch away the clothes + of the deceased. The general ordered a hundred roubles to be + given to her. Sara I never saw again. I was wounded; I was + taken to the hospital, and by the time I was well again, + Dantzig had surrendered, and I joined my regiment on the + banks of the Rhine. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="2"></a> + <h2> + AN UNHAPPY GIRL + </h2> + <p> + Yes, yes, began Piotr Gavrilovitch; those were painful + days... and I would rather not recall them.... But I have + made you a promise; I shall have to tell you the whole story. + Listen. + </p> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + I was living at that time (the winter of 1835) in Moscow, in + the house of my aunt, the sister of my dead mother. I was + eighteen; I had only just passed from the second into the + third course in the faculty 'of Language' (that was what it + was called in those days) in the Moscow University. My aunt + was a gentle, quiet woman—a widow. She lived in a big, + wooden house in Ostozhonka, one of those warm, cosy houses + such as, I fancy, one can find nowhere else but in Moscow. + She saw hardly any one, sat from morning till night in the + drawing-room with two companions, drank the choicest tea, + played patience, and was continually requesting that the room + should be fumigated. Thereupon her companions ran into the + hall; a few minutes later an old servant in livery would + bring in a copper pan with a bunch of mint on a hot brick, + and stepping hurriedly upon the narrow strips of carpet, he + would sprinkle the mint with vinegar. White fumes always + puffed up about his wrinkled face, and he frowned and turned + away, while the canaries in the dining-room chirped their + hardest, exasperated by the hissing of the smouldering mint. + </p> + <p> + I was fatherless and motherless, and my aunt spoiled me. She + placed the whole of the ground floor at my complete disposal. + My rooms were furnished very elegantly, not at all like a + student's rooms in fact: there were pink curtains in the + bedroom, and a muslin canopy, adorned with blue rosettes, + towered over my bed. Those rosettes were, I'll own, rather an + annoyance to me; to my thinking, such 'effeminacies' were + calculated to lower me in the eyes of my companions. As it + was, they nicknamed me 'the boarding-school miss.' I could + never succeed in forcing myself to smoke. I studied—why + conceal my shortcomings?—very lazily, especially at the + beginning of the course. I went out a great deal. My aunt had + bestowed on me a wide sledge, fit for a general, with a pair + of sleek horses. At the houses of 'the gentry' my visits were + rare, but at the theatre I was quite at home, and I consumed + masses of tarts at the restaurants. For all that, I permitted + myself no breach of decorum, and behaved very discreetly, + <i>en jeune homme de bonne maison</i>. I would not for + anything in the world have pained my kind aunt; and besides I + was naturally of a rather cool temperament. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + From my earliest years I had been fond of chess; I had no + idea of the science of the game, but I didn't play badly. One + day in a café, I was the spectator of a prolonged + contest at chess, between two players, of whom one, a + fair-haired young man of about five-and-twenty, struck me as + playing well. The game ended in his favour; I offered to play + a match with him. He agreed,... and in the course of an hour, + beat me easily, three times running. + </p> + <p> + 'You have a natural gift for the game,' he pronounced in a + courteous tone, noticing probably that my vanity was + suffering; 'but you don't know the openings. You ought to + study a chess-book—Allgacir or Petrov.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you think so? But where can I get such a book?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come to me; I will give you one.' + </p> + <p> + He gave me his name, and told me where he was living. Next + day I went to see him, and a week later we were almost + inseparable. + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + My new acquaintance was called Alexander Davidovitch Fustov. + He lived with his mother, a rather wealthy woman, the widow + of a privy councillor, but he occupied a little lodge apart + and lived quite independently, just as I did at my aunt's. He + had a post in the department of Court affairs. I became + genuinely attached to him. I had never in my life met a young + man more 'sympathetic.' Everything about him was charming and + attractive: his graceful figure, his bearing, his voice, and + especially his small, delicate face with the golden-blue + eyes, the elegant, as it were coquettishly moulded little + nose, the unchanging amiable smile on the crimson lips, the + light curls of soft hair over the rather narrow, snow-white + brow. Fustov's character was remarkable for exceptional + serenity, and a sort of amiable, restrained affability; he + was never pre-occupied, and was always satisfied with + everything; but on the other hand he was never ecstatic over + anything. Every excess, even in a good feeling, jarred upon + him; 'that's savage, savage,' he would say with a faint + shrug, half closing his golden eyes. Marvellous were those + eyes of Fustov's! They invariably expressed sympathy, + good-will, even devotion. It was only at a later period that + I noticed that the expression of his eyes resulted solely + from their setting, that it never changed, even when he was + sipping his soup or smoking a cigar. His preciseness became a + byword between us. His grandmother, indeed, had been a + German. Nature had endowed him with all sorts of talents. He + danced capitally, was a dashing horseman, and a first-rate + swimmer; did carpentering, carving and joinery, bound books + and cut out silhouettes, painted in watercolours nosegays of + flowers or Napoleon in profile in a blue uniform; played the + zither with feeling; knew a number of tricks, with cards and + without; and had a fair knowledge of mechanics, physics, and + chemistry; but everything only up to a certain point. Only + for languages he had no great facility: even French he spoke + rather badly. He spoke in general little, and his share in + our students' discussions was mostly limited to the bright + sympathy of his glance and smile. To the fair sex Fustov was + attractive, undoubtedly, but on this subject, of such + importance among young people, he did not care to enlarge, + and fully deserved the nickname given him by his comrades, + 'the discreet Don Juan.' I was not dazzled by Fustov; there + was nothing in him to dazzle, but I prized his affection, + though in reality it was only manifested by his never + refusing to see me when I called. To my mind Fustov was the + happiest man in the world. His life ran so very smoothly. His + mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles all adored him, + he was on exceptionally good terms with all of them, and + enjoyed the reputation of a paragon in his family. + </p> + <h3> + IV + </h3> + <p> + One day I went round to him rather early and did not find him + in his study. He called to me from the next room; sounds of + panting and splashing reached me from there. Every morning + Fustov took a cold shower-bath and afterwards for a quarter + of an hour practised gymnastic exercises, in which he had + attained remarkable proficiency. Excessive anxiety about + one's physical health he did not approve of, but he did not + neglect necessary care. ('Don't neglect yourself, don't + over-excite yourself, work in moderation,' was his precept.) + Fustov had not yet made his appearance, when the outer door + of the room where I was waiting flew wide open, and there + walked in a man about fifty, wearing a bluish uniform. He was + a stout, squarely-built man with milky-whitish eyes in a + dark-red face and a perfect cap of thick, grey, curly hair. + This person stopped short, looked at me, opened his mouth + wide, and with a metallic chuckle, he gave himself a smart + slap on his haunch, kicking his leg up in front as he did so. + </p> + <p> + 'Ivan Demianitch?' my friend inquired through the door. + </p> + <p> + 'The same, at your service,' the new comer responded. 'What + are you up to? At your toilette? That's right! that's right!' + (The voice of the man addressed as Ivan Demianitch had the + same harsh, metallic note as his laugh.) 'I've trudged all + this way to give your little brother his lesson; and he's got + a cold, you know, and does nothing but sneeze. He can't do + his work. So I've looked in on you for a bit to warm myself.' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Demianitch laughed again the same strange guffaw, again + dealt himself a sounding smack on the leg, and pulling a + check handkerchief out of his pocket, blew his nose noisily, + ferociously rolling his eyes, spat into the handkerchief, and + ejaculated with the whole force of his lungs: 'Tfoo-o-o!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov came into the room, and shaking hands with both of us, + asked us if we were acquainted. + </p> + <p> + 'Not a bit of it!' Ivan Demianitch boomed at once: 'the + veteran of the year twelve has not that honour!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov mentioned my name first, then, indicating the 'veteran + of the year twelve,' he pronounced: 'Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, + professor of... various subjects.' + </p> + <p> + 'Precisely so, various they are, precisely,' Mr. Ratsch + chimed in. 'Come to think of it, what is there I haven't + taught, and that I'm not teaching now, for that matter! + Mathematics and geography and statistics and Italian + book-keeping, ha-ha ha-ha! and music! You doubt it, my dear + sir?'—he pounced suddenly upon me—'ask Alexander + Daviditch if I'm not first-rate on the bassoon. I should be a + poor sort of Bohemian—Czech, I should say—if I + weren't! Yes, sir, I'm a Czech, and my native place is + ancient Prague! By the way, Alexander Daviditch, why haven't + we seen you for so long! We ought to have a little duet... + ha-ha! Really!' + </p> + <p> + 'I was at your place the day before yesterday, Ivan + Demianitch,' replied Fustov. + </p> + <p> + 'But I call that a long while, ha-ha!' + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Ratsch laughed, his white eyes shifted from side to + side in a strange, restless way. + </p> + <p> + 'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour,' he + addressed me again. 'But that's because you don't understand + my temperament. You must just ask our good friend here, + Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about me. What'll he tell + you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, good-hearted + chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha! + At his christening named Johann Dietrich, but always called + Ivan Demianitch! What's in my mind pops out on my tongue; I + wear my heart, as they say, on my sleeve. Ceremony of all + sorts I know naught about and don't want to neither! Can't + bear it! You drop in on me one day of an evening, and you'll + see for yourself. My good woman—my wife, that + is—has no nonsense about her either; she'll cook and + bake you... something wonderful! Alexander Daviditch, isn't + it the truth I'm telling?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov only smiled, and I remained silent. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't look down on the old fellow, but come round,' pursued + Mr. Ratsch. 'But now...' (he pulled a fat silver watch out of + his pocket and put it up to one of his goggle eyes)'I'd + better be toddling on, I suppose. I've another chick + expecting me.... Devil knows what I'm teaching him,... + mythology, by God! And he lives a long way off, the rascal, + at the Red Gate! No matter; I'll toddle off on foot. Thanks + to your brother's cutting his lesson, I shall be the fifteen + kopecks for sledge hire to the good! Ha-ha! A very good day + to you, gentlemen, till we meet again!... Eh?... We must have + a little duet!' Mr. Ratsch bawled from the passage putting on + his goloshes noisily, and for the last time we heard his + metallic laugh. + </p> + <h3> + V + </h3> + <p> + 'What a strange man!' I said, turning to Fustov, who had + already set to work at his turning-lathe. 'Can he be a + foreigner? He speaks Russian so fluently.' + </p> + <p> + 'He is a foreigner; only he's been thirty years in Russia. As + long ago as 1802, some prince or other brought him from + abroad... in the capacity of secretary... more likely, valet, + one would suppose. He does speak Russian fluently, + certainly.' + </p> + <p> + 'With such go, such far-fetched turns and phrases,' I put in. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, yes. Only very unnaturally too. They're all like that, + these Russianised Germans.' + </p> + <p> + 'But he's a Czech, isn't he?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know; may be. He talks German with his wife.' + </p> + <p> + 'And why does he call himself a veteran of the year twelve? + Was he in the militia, or what?' + </p> + <p> + 'In the militia! indeed! At the time of the fire he remained + in Moscow and lost all his property.... That was all he did.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what did he stay in Moscow for?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov still went on with his turning. + </p> + <p> + 'The Lord knows. I have heard that he was a spy on our side; + but that must be nonsense. But it's a fact that he received + compensation from the treasury for his losses.' + </p> + <p> + 'He wears some sort of uniform.... I suppose he's in + government service then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. Professor in the cadet's corps. He has the rank of a + petty councillor.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's his wife like?' + </p> + <p> + 'A German settled here, daughter of a sausagemaker... or + butcher....' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you often go to see him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'What, is it pleasant there?' + </p> + <p> + 'Rather pleasant.' + </p> + <p> + 'Has he any children?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. Three by the German, and a son and daughter by his + first wife.' + </p> + <p> + 'And how old is the eldest daughter?' + </p> + <p> + 'About five-and-twenty,' + </p> + <p> + I fancied Fustov bent lower over his lathe, and the wheel + turned more rapidly, and hummed under the even strokes of his + feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Is she good-looking?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's a matter of taste. She has a remarkable face, and + she's altogether... a remarkable person.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' thought I. Fustov continued his work with special + earnestness, and to my next question he only responded by a + grunt. + </p> + <p> + 'I must make her acquaintance,' I decided. + </p> + <h3> + VI + </h3> + <p> + A few days later, Fustov and I set off to Mr. Ratsch's to + spend the evening. He lived in a wooden house with a big yard + and garden, in Krivoy Place near the Pretchistensky + boulevard. He came out into the passage, and meeting us with + his characteristic jarring guffaw and noise, led us at once + into the drawing-room, where he presented me to a stout lady + in a skimpy canvas gown, Eleonora Karpovna, his wife. + Eleonora Karpovna had most likely in her first youth been + possessed of what the French for some unknown reason call + <i>beauté du diable</i>, that is to say, freshness; + but when I made her acquaintance, she suggested involuntarily + to the mind a good-sized piece of meat, freshly laid by the + butcher on a clean marble table. Designedly I used the word + 'clean'; not only our hostess herself seemed a model of + cleanliness, but everything about her, everything in the + house positively shone, and glittered; everything had been + scoured, and polished, and washed: the samovar on the round + table flashed like fire; the curtains before the windows, the + table-napkins were crisp with starch, as were also the little + frocks and shirts of Mr. Ratsch's four children sitting + there, stout, chubby little creatures, exceedingly like their + mother, with coarsely moulded, sturdy faces, curls on their + foreheads, and red, shapeless fingers. All the four of them + had rather flat noses, large, swollen-looking lips, and tiny, + light-grey eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Here's my squadron!' cried Mr. Ratsch, laying his heavy hand + on the children's heads one after another. 'Kolia, Olga, + Sashka and Mashka! This one's eight, this one's seven, that + one's four, and this one's only two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can + see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! Eh, Eleonora + Karpovna?' + </p> + <p> + 'You always say things like that,' observed Eleonora Karpovna + and she turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers!' Mr. + Ratsch pursued. 'The next thing, she'll have them all + baptized into the Orthodox Church! Yes, by Jove! She's so + Slavonic in her sympathies, 'pon my soul, she is, though she + is of German blood! Eleonora Karpovna, are you Slavonic?' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna lost her temper. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm a petty councillor's wife, that's what I am! And so I'm + a Russian lady and all you may say....' + </p> + <p> + 'There, the way she loves Russia, it's simply awful!' broke + in Ivan Demianitch. 'A perfect volcano, ho, ho!' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, and what of it?' pursued Eleonora Karpovna. 'To be + sure I love Russia, for where else could I obtain noble rank? + And my children too are nobly born, you know. Kolia, sitze + ruhig mit den Füssen!' + </p> + <p> + Ratsch waved his hand to her. + </p> + <p> + 'There, there, princess, don't excite yourself! But where's + the nobly born Viktor? To be sure, he's always gadding about! + He'll come across the inspector one of these fine days! He'll + give him a talking-to! Das ist ein Bummler, Fiktor!' + </p> + <p> + 'Dem Fiktov kann ich nicht kommandiren, Ivan Demianitch. Sie + wissen wohl!' grumbled Eleonora Karpovna. + </p> + <p> + I looked at Fustov, as though wishing finally to arrive at + what induced him to visit such people... but at that instant + there came into the room a tall girl in a black dress, the + elder daughter of Mr. Ratsch, to whom Fustov had referred.... + I perceived the explanation of my friend's frequent visits. + </p> + <h3> + VII + </h3> + <p> + There is somewhere, I remember, in Shakespeare, something + about 'a white dove in a flock of black crows'; that was just + the impression made on me by the girl, who entered the room. + Between the world surrounding her and herself there seemed to + be too little in common; she herself seemed secretly + bewildered and wondering how she had come there. All the + members of Mr. Ratsch's family looked self-satisfied, + simple-hearted, healthy creatures; her beautiful, but already + careworn, face bore the traces of depression, pride and + morbidity. The others, unmistakable plebeians, were + unconstrained in their manners, coarse perhaps, but simple; + but a painful uneasiness was manifest in all her indubitably + aristocratic nature. In her very exterior there was no trace + of the type characteristic of the German race; she recalled + rather the children of the south. The excessively thick, + lustreless black hair, the hollow, black, lifeless but + beautiful eyes, the low, prominent brow, the aquiline nose, + the livid pallor of the smooth skin, a certain tragic line + near the delicate lips, and in the slightly sunken cheeks, + something abrupt, and at the same time helpless in the + movements, elegance without gracefulness... in Italy all this + would not have struck me as exceptional, but in Moscow, near + the Pretchistensky boulevard, it simply astonished me! I got + up from my seat on her entrance; she flung me a swift, uneasy + glance, and dropping her black eyelashes, sat down near the + window 'like Tatiana.' (Pushkin's <i>Oniegin</i> was then + fresh in every one's mind.) I glanced at Fustov, but my + friend was standing with his back to me, taking a cup of tea + from the plump hands of Eleonora Karpovna. I noticed further + that the girl as she came in seemed to bring with her a + breath of slight physical chillness.... 'What a statue!' was + my thought. + </p> + <h3> + VIII + </h3> + <p> + 'Piotr Gavrilitch,' thundered Mr. Ratsch, turning to me, 'let + me introduce you to my... to my... my number one, ha, ha, ha! + to Susanna Ivanovna!' + </p> + <p> + I bowed in silence, and thought at once: 'Why, the name too + is not the same sort as the others,' while Susanna rose + slightly, without smiling or loosening her tightly clasped + hands. + </p> + <p> + 'And how about the duet?' Ivan Demianitch pursued: 'Alexander + Daviditch? eh? benefactor! Your zither was left with us, and + I've got the bassoon out of its case already. Let us make + sweet music for the honourable company!' (Mr. Ratsch liked to + display his Russian; he was continually bursting out with + expressions, such as those which are strewn broadcast about + the ultra-national poems of Prince Viazemsky.) 'What do you + say? Carried?' cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no + objection. 'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with + the music-stand! Olga, this way with the zither! And oblige + us with candles for the stands, better-half!' (Mr. Ratsch + turned round and round in the room like a top.) 'Piotr + Gavrilitch, you like music, hey? If you don't care for it, + you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not + above a whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that + silly chap, Viktor? He ought to be here to listen too! You + spoil him completely, Eleonora Karpovna.' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna fired up angrily. + </p> + <p> + 'Aber was kann ich denn, Ivan Demianitch...' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, all right, don't squabble! Bleibe ruhig, hast + verstanden? Alexander Daviditch! at your service, sir!' + </p> + <p> + The children had promptly done as their father had told them. + The music-stands were set up, the music began. I have already + mentioned that Fustov played the zither extremely well, but + that instrument has always produced the most distressing + impression upon me. I have always fancied, and I fancy still, + that there is imprisoned in the zither the soul of a decrepit + Jew money-lender, and that it emits nasal whines and + complaints against the merciless musician who forces it to + utter sounds. Mr. Ratsch's performance, too, was not + calculated to give me much pleasure; moreover, his face + became suddenly purple, and assumed a malignant expression, + while his whitish eyes rolled viciously, as though he were + just about to murder some one with his bassoon, and were + swearing and threatening by way of preliminary, puffing out + chokingly husky, coarse notes one after another. I placed + myself near Susanna, and waiting for a momentary pause, I + asked her if she were as fond of music as her papa. + </p> + <p> + She turned away, as though I had given her a shove, and + pronounced abruptly, 'Who?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your father,' I repeated,'Mr. Ratsch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Ratsch is not my father.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not your father! I beg your pardon... I must have + misunderstood... But I remember, Alexander Daviditch...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna looked at me intently and shyly. + </p> + <p> + 'You misunderstood Mr. Fustov. Mr. Ratsch is my stepfather.' + </p> + <p> + I was silent for a while. + </p> + <p> + 'And you don't care for music?' I began again. + </p> + <p> + Susanna glanced at me again. Undoubtedly there was something + suggesting a wild creature in her eyes. She obviously had not + expected nor desired the continuation of our conversation. + </p> + <p> + 'I did not say that,' she brought out slowly. + 'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo...' the bassoon growled with + startling fury, executing the final flourishes. I turned + round, caught sight of the red neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen + like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his projecting ears, and + very disgusting I thought him. + </p> + <p> + 'But that... instrument you surely do not care for,' I said + in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + 'No... I don't care for it,' she responded, as though + catching my secret hint. + </p> + <p> + 'Oho!' thought I, and felt, as it were, delighted at + something. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' Eleonora Karpovna announced suddenly in + her German Russian, 'music greatly loves, and herself very + beautifully plays the piano, only she likes not to play the + piano when she is greatly pressed to play.' + </p> + <p> + Susanna made Eleonora Karpovna no reply—she did not + even look at her—only there was a faint movement of her + eyes, under their dropped lids, in her direction. From this + movement alone—this movement of her pupils—I + could perceive what was the nature of the feeling Susanna + cherished for the second wife of her stepfather.... And again + I was delighted at something. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the duet was over. Fustov got up and with + hesitating footsteps approached the window, near which + Susanna and I were sitting, and asked her if she had received + from Lengold's the music that he had promised to order her + from Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + 'Selections from <i>Robert le Diable,</i>' he added, turning + to me, 'from that new opera that every one's making such a + fuss about.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I haven't got it yet,' answered Susanna, and turning + round with her face to the window she whispered hurriedly. + 'Please, Alexander Daviditch, I entreat you, don't make me + play to-day. I don't feel in the mood a bit.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's that? Robert le Diable of Meyer-beer?' bellowed Ivan + Demianitch, coming up to us: 'I don't mind betting it's a + first-class article! He's a Jew, and all Jews, like all + Czechs, are born musicians. Especially Jews. That's right, + isn't it, Susanna Ivanovna? Hey? Ha, ha, ha, ha!' + </p> + <p> + In Mr. Ratsch's last words, and this time even in his guffaw, + there could be heard something more than his usual bantering + tone—the desire to wound was evident. So, at least, I + fancied, and so Susanna understood him. She started + instinctively, flushed red, and bit her lower lip. A spot of + light, like the gleam of a tear, flashed on her eyelash, and + rising quickly, she went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to, Susanna Ivanovna?' Mr. Ratsch bawled + after her. + </p> + <p> + 'Let her be, Ivan Demianitch, 'put in Eleonora Karpovna. + 'Wenn sie einmal so et was im Kopfe hat...' + </p> + <p> + 'A nervous temperament,'Ratsch pronounced, rotating on his + heels, and slapping himself on the haunch, 'suffers with the + <i>plexus solaris.</i> Oh! you needn't look at me like that, + Piotr Gavrilitch! I've had a go at anatomy too, ha, ha! I'm + even a bit of a doctor! You ask Eleonora Karpovna... I cure + all her little ailments! Oh, I'm a famous hand at that!' + </p> + <p> + 'You must for ever be joking, Ivan Demianitch,' the latter + responded with displeasure, while Fustov, laughing and + gracefully swaying to and fro, looked at the husband and + wife. + </p> + <p> + 'And why not be joking, mein Mütterchen?' retorted Ivan + Demianitch. 'Life's given us for use, and still more for + beauty, as some celebrated poet has observed. Kolka, wipe + your nose, little savage!' + </p> + <h3> + IX + </h3> + <p> + 'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through + your doing,' I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way + home with him. 'You told me that that girl—what's her + name?—Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. Ratsch, but + she's his stepdaughter.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it + all the same?' + </p> + <p> + 'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! + Did you notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews + before her? Is she... a Jewess?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow + was crisp, like salt, under our feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he + observed at last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish + extraction.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' + </p> + <p> + 'Probably.' + </p> + <p> + 'H'm!... And that Viktor, who didn't come in this evening, is + his stepson too?' + </p> + <p> + 'No... he's his real son. But, as you know, I don't enter + into other people's affairs, and I don't like asking + questions. I'm not inquisitive.' + </p> + <p> + I bit my tongue. Fustov still pushed on ahead. As we got near + home, I overtook him and peeped into his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh!' I queried, 'is Susanna really so musical?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov frowned. + </p> + <p> + 'She plays the piano well, 'he said between his teeth. 'Only + she's very shy, I warn you!' he added with a slight grimace. + He seemed to be regretting having made me acquainted with + her. + </p> + <p> + I said nothing and we parted. + </p> + <h3> + X + </h3> + <p> + Next morning I set off again to Fustov's. To spend my + mornings at his rooms had become a necessity for me. He + received me cordially, as usual, but of our visit of the + previous evening—not a word! As though he had taken + water into his mouth, as they say. I began turning over the + pages of the last number of the <i>Telescope.</i> + </p> + <p> + A person, unknown to me, came into the room. It turned out to + be Mr. Ratsch's son, the Viktor whose absence had been + censured by his father the evening before. + </p> + <p> + He was a young man, about eighteen, but already looked + dissipated and unhealthy, with a mawkishly insolent grin on + his unclean face, and an expression of fatigue in his swollen + eyes. He was like his father, only his features were smaller + and not without a certain prettiness. But in this very + prettiness there was something offensive. He was dressed in a + very slovenly way; there were buttons off his undergraduate's + coat, one of his boots had a hole in it, and he fairly reeked + of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + 'How d'ye do,' he said in a sleepy voice, with those peculiar + twitchings of the head and shoulders which I have always + noticed in spoilt and conceited young men. 'I meant to go to + the University, but here I am. Sort of oppression on my + chest. Give us a cigar.' He walked right across the room, + listlessly dragging his feet, and keeping his hands in his + trouser-pockets, and sank heavily upon the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'Have you caught cold?' asked Fustov, and he introduced us to + each other. We were both students, but were in different + faculties. + </p> + <p> + 'No!... Likely! Yesterday, I must own...' (here Ratsch junior + smiled, again not without a certain prettiness, though he + showed a set of bad teeth) 'I was drunk, awfully drunk. + Yes'—he lighted a cigar and cleared his + throat—'Obihodov's farewell supper.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where's he going?' + </p> + <p> + 'To the Caucasus, and taking his young lady with him. You + know the black-eyed girl, with the freckles. Silly fool!' + </p> + <p> + 'Your father was asking after you yesterday,' observed + Fustov. + </p> + <p> + Viktor spat aside. 'Yes, I heard about it. You were at our + den yesterday. Well, music, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'As usual.' + </p> + <p> + 'And <i>she</i>... with a new visitor' (here he pointed with + his head in my direction) 'she gave herself airs, I'll be + bound. Wouldn't play, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of whom are you speaking?' Fustov asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, of the most honoured Susanna Ivanovna, of course!' + </p> + <p> + Viktor lolled still more comfortably, put his arm up round + his head, gazed at his own hand, and cleared his throat + hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at Fustov. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as + though giving me to understand that it was no use talking to + such a dolt. + </p> + <h3> + XI + </h3> + <p> + Viktor, staring at the ceiling, fell to talking, deliberately + and through his nose, of the theatre, of two actors he knew, + of a certain Serafrina Serafrinovna, who had 'made a fool' of + him, of the new professor, R., whom he called a brute. + 'Because, only fancy, what a monstrous notion! Every lecture + he begins with calling over the students' names, and he's + reckoned a liberal too! I'd have all your liberals locked up + in custody!' and turning at last his full face and whole body + towards Fustov, he brought out in a half-plaintive, + half-ironical voice: 'I wanted to ask you something, + Alexander Daviditch.... Couldn't you talk my governor round + somehow?... You play duets with him, you know.... Here he + gives me five miserable blue notes a month.... What's the use + of that! Not enough for tobacco. And then he goes on about my + not making debts! I should like to put him in my place, and + then we should see! I don't come in for pensions, not like + <i>some people</i>.' (Viktor pronounced these last words with + peculiar emphasis.) 'But he's got a lot of tin, I know! It's + no use his whining about hard times, there's no taking me in. + No fear! He's made a snug little pile!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov looked dubiously at Victor. + </p> + <p> + 'If you like,' he began, 'I'll speak to your father. Or, if + you like... meanwhile... a trifling sum....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no! Better get round the governor... Though,' added + Viktor, scratching his nose with all his fingers at once, + 'you might hand over five-and-twenty roubles, if it's the + same to you.... What's the blessed total I owe you?' + </p> + <p> + 'You've borrowed eighty-five roubles of me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.... Well, that's all right, then... make it a hundred + and ten. I'll pay it all in a lump.' + </p> + <p> + Fustov went into the next room, brought back a + twenty-five-rouble note and handed it in silence to Viktor. + The latter took it, yawned with his mouth wide open, grumbled + thanks, and, shrugging and stretching, got up from the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'Foo! though... I'm bored,' he muttered, 'might as well turn + in to the "Italie."' + </p> + <p> + He moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + Fustov looked after him. He seemed to be struggling with + himself. + </p> + <p> + 'What pension were you alluding to just now, Viktor + Ivanitch?' he asked at last. + </p> + <p> + Viktor stopped in the doorway and put on his cap. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, don't you know? Susanna Ivanovna's pension.... She gets + one. An awfully curious story, I can tell you! I'll tell it + you one of these days. Quite an affair, 'pon my soul, a queer + affair. But, I say, the governor, you won't forget about the + governor, please! His hide is thick, of course—German, + and it's had a Russian tanning too, still you can get through + it. Only, mind my step-mother Elenorka's nowhere about! Dad's + afraid of her, and she wants to keep everything for her + brats! But there, you know your way about! Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + 'Ugh, what a low beast that boy is!' cried Fustov, as soon as + the door had slammed-to. + </p> + <p> + His face was burning, as though from the fire, and he turned + away from me. I did not question him, and soon retired. + </p> + <h3> + XII + </h3> + <p> + All that day I spent in speculating about Fustov, about + Susanna, and about her relations. I had a vague feeling of + something like a family drama. As far as I could judge, my + friend was not indifferent to Susanna. But she? Did she care + for him? Why did she seem so unhappy? And altogether, what + sort of creature was she? These questions were continually + recurring to my mind. An obscure but strong conviction told + me that it would be no use to apply to Fustov for the + solution of them. It ended in my setting off the next day + alone to Mr. Ratsch's house. + </p> + <p> + I felt all at once very uncomfortable and confused directly I + found myself in the dark little passage. 'She won't appear + even, very likely,' flashed into my mind. 'I shall have to + stop with the repulsive veteran and his cook of a wife.... + And indeed, even if she does show herself, what of it? She + won't even take part in the conversation.... She was anything + but warm in her manner to me the other day. Why ever did I + come?' While I was making these reflections, the little page + ran to announce my presence, and in the adjoining room, after + two or three wondering 'Who is it? Who, do you say?' I heard + the heavy shuffling of slippers, the folding-door was + slightly opened, and in the crack between its two halves was + thrust the face of Ivan Demianitch, an unkempt and + grim-looking face. It stared at me and its expression did not + immediately change.... Evidently, Mr. Ratsch did not at once + recognise me; but suddenly his cheeks grew rounder, his eyes + narrower, and from his opening mouth, there burst, together + with a guffaw, the exclamation: 'Ah! my dear sir! Is it you? + Pray walk in!' + </p> + <p> + I followed him all the more unwillingly, because it seemed to + me that this affable, good-humoured Mr. Ratsch was inwardly + wishing me at the devil. There was nothing to be done, + however. He led me into the drawing-room, and in the + drawing-room who should be sitting but Susanna, bending over + an account-book? She glanced at me with her melancholy eyes, + and very slightly bit the finger-nails of her left hand.... + It was a habit of hers, I noticed, a habit peculiar to + nervous people. There was no one else in the room. + </p> + <p> + 'You see, sir,' began Mr. Ratsch, dealing himself a smack on + the haunch, 'what you've found Susanna Ivanovna and me busy + upon: we're at our accounts. My spouse has no great head for + arithmetic, and I, I must own, try to spare my eyes. I can't + read without spectacles, what am I to do? Let the young + people exert themselves, ha-ha! That's the proper thing. But + there's no need of haste.... More haste, worse speed in + catching fleas, he-he!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna closed the book, and was about to leave the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' began Mr. Ratsch. 'It's no great + matter if you're not in your best dress....' (Susanna was + wearing a very old, almost childish, frock with short + sleeves.) 'Our dear guest is not a stickler for ceremony, and + I should like just to clear up last week.... You don't + mind?'—he addressed me. 'We needn't stand on ceremony + with you, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Please don't put yourself out on my account!' I cried. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure, my good friend. As you're aware, the late Tsar + Alexey Nikolavitch Romanoff used to say, "Time is for + business, but a minute for recreation!" We'll devote one + minute only to that same business... ha-ha! What about that + thirteen roubles and thirty kopecks?' he added in a low + voice, turning his back on me. + </p> + <p> + 'Viktor took it from Eleonora Karpovna; he said that it was + with your leave,' Susanna replied, also in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + 'He said... he said... my leave...' growled Ivan Demianitch. + 'I'm on the spot myself, I fancy. Might be asked. And who's + had that seventeen roubles?' + </p> + <p> + 'The upholsterer.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh... the upholsterer. What's that for?' 'His bill.' + </p> + <p> + 'His bill. Show me!' He pulled the book away from Susanna, + and planting a pair of round spectacles with silver rims on + his nose, he began passing his finger along the lines. 'The + upholsterer,.. the upholsterer... You'd chuck all the money + out of doors! Nothing pleases you better!... Wie die Croaten! + A bill indeed! But, after all,' he added aloud, and he turned + round facing me again, and pulled the spectacles off his + nose, 'why do this now? I can go into these wretched details + later. Susanna Ivanovna, be so good as to put away that + account-book, and come back to us and enchant our kind + guest's ears with your musical accomplishments, to wit, + playing on the pianoforte... Eh?' + </p> + <p> + Susanna turned away her head. + </p> + <p> + 'I should be very happy,' I hastily observed; 'it would be a + great pleasure for me to hear Susanna Ivanovna play. But I + would not for anything in the world be a trouble...' + </p> + <p> + 'Trouble, indeed, what nonsense! Now then, Susanna Ivanovna, + eins, zwei, drei!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna made no response, and went out. + </p> + <h3> + XIII + </h3> + <p> + I had not expected her to come back; but she quickly + reappeared. She had not even changed her dress, and sitting + down in a corner, she looked twice intently at me. Whether it + was that she was conscious in my manner to her of the + involuntary respect, inexplicable to myself, which, more than + curiosity, more even than sympathy, she aroused in me, or + whether she was in a softened frame of mind that day, any + way, she suddenly went to the piano, and laying her hand + irresolutely on the keys, and turning her head a little over + her shoulder towards me, she asked what I would like her to + play. Before I had time to answer she had seated herself, + taken up some music, hurriedly opened it, and begun to play. + I loved music from childhood, but at that time I had but + little comprehension of it, and very slight knowledge of the + works of the great masters, and if Mr. Ratsch had not + grumbled with some dissatisfaction, 'Aha! wieder dieser + Beethoven!' I should not have guessed what Susanna had + chosen. It was, as I found out afterwards, the celebrated + sonata in F minor, opus 57. Susanna's playing impressed me + more than I can say; I had not expected such force, such + fire, such bold execution. At the very first bars of the + intensely passionate allegro, the beginning of the sonata, I + felt that numbness, that chill and sweet terror of ecstasy, + which instantaneously enwrap the soul when beauty bursts with + sudden flight upon it. I did not stir a limb till the very + end. I kept, wanting—and not daring—to sigh. I + was sitting behind Susanna; I could not see her face; I saw + only from time to time her long dark hair tossed up and down + on her shoulders, her figure swaying impulsively, and her + delicate arms and bare elbows swiftly, and rather angularly, + moving. The last notes died away. I sighed at last. Susanna + still sat before the piano. + </p> + <p> + 'Ja, ja,' observed Mr. Ratsch, who had also, however, + listened with attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the + fashion nowadays. Only, why not play correctly? Eh? Put your + finger on two notes at once—what's that for? Eh? To be + sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! Turns it out + hotter, eh? Hot pancakes!' he bawled like a street seller. + </p> + <p> + Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch. I caught sight of + her face in profile. The delicate eyebrow rose high above the + downcast eyelid, an unsteady flush overspread the cheek, the + little ear was red under the lock pushed behind it. + </p> + <p> + 'I have heard all the best performers with my own ears,' + pursued Mr. Ratsch, suddenly frowning, 'and compared with the + late Field they were all—tfoo! nil! zero!! Das war ein + Kerl! Und ein so reines Spiel! And his own compositions the + finest things! But all those now "tloo-too-too," and + "tra-ta-ta," are written, I suppose, more for beginners. Da + braucht man keine Delicatesse! Bang the keys anyhow... no + matter! It'll turn out some how! Janitscharen Musik! Pugh!' + (Ivan Demianitch wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.) + 'But I don't say that for you, Susanna Ivanovna; you played + well, and oughtn't to be hurt by my remarks.' + </p> + <p> + 'Every one has his own taste,' Susanna said in a low voice, + and her lips were trembling; 'but your remarks, Ivan + Demianitch, you know, cannot hurt me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! of course not! Only don't you imagine'—Mr. Ratsch + turned to me—'don't you imagine, my young friend, that + that comes from our excessive good-nature and meekness of + spirit; it's simply that we fancy ourselves so highly exalted + that—oo-oo!—we can't keep our cap on our head, as + the Russian proverb says, and, of course, no criticism can + touch us. The conceit, my dear sir, the conceit!' + </p> + <p> + I listened in surprise to Mr. Ratsch. Spite, the bitterest + spite, seemed as it were boiling over in every word he + uttered.... And long it must have been rankling! It choked + him. He tried to conclude his tirade with his usual laugh, + and fell into a husky, broken cough instead. Susanna did not + let drop a syllable in reply to him, only she shook her head, + raised her face, and clasping her elbows with her hands, + stared straight at him. In the depths of her fixed, wide-open + eyes the hatred of long years lay smouldering with dim, + unquenchable fire. I felt ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + 'You belong to two different musical generations,' I began, + with an effort at lightness, wishing by this lightness to + suggest that I noticed nothing, 'and so it is not surprising + that you do not agree in your opinions.... But, Ivan + Demianitch, you must allow me to take rather... the side of + the younger generation. I'm an outsider, of course; but I + must confess nothing in music has ever made such an + impression on me as the... as what Susanna Ivanovna has just + played us.' + </p> + <p> + Ratsch pounced at once upon me. + </p> + <p> + 'And what makes you suppose,' he roared, still purple from + the fit of coughing, 'that we want to enlist you on our side? + We don't want that at all! Freedom for the free, salvation + for the saved! But as to the two generations, that's right + enough; we old folks find it hard to get on with you young + people, very hard! Our ideas don't agree in anything: neither + in art, nor in life, nor even in morals; do they, Susanna + Ivanovna?' + </p> + <p> + Susanna smiled a contemptuous smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Especially in regard to morals, as you say, our ideas do not + agree, and cannot agree,' she responded, and something + menacing seemed to flit over her brows, while her lips were + faintly trembling as before. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course! of course!' Ratsch broke in, 'I'm not a + philosopher! I'm not capable of... rising so superior! I'm a + plain man, swayed by prejudices—oh yes!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna smiled again. + </p> + <p> + 'I think, Ivan Demianitch, you too have sometimes been able + to place yourself above what are called prejudices.' + </p> + <p> + 'Wie so? How so, I mean? I don't know what you mean.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know what I mean? Your memory's so bad!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch seemed utterly taken aback. + </p> + <p> + 'I... I...' he repeated, 'I...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, you, Mr. Ratsch.' + </p> + <p> + There followed a brief silence. + </p> + <p> + 'Really, upon my word...' Mr. Ratsch was beginning; 'how dare + you... such insolence...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna all at once drew herself up to her full height, and + still holding her elbows, squeezing them tight, drumming on + them with her fingers, she stood still facing Ratsch. She + seemed to challenge him to conflict, to stand up to meet him. + Her face was changed; it became suddenly, in one instant, + extraordinarily beautiful, and terrible too; a sort of + bright, cold brilliance—the brilliance of + steel—gleamed in her lustreless eyes; the lips that had + been quivering were compressed in one straight, mercilessly + stern line. Susanna challenged Ratsch, but he gazed blankly, + and suddenly subsiding into silence, all of a heap, so to + say, drew his head in, even stepped back a pace. The veteran + of the year twelve was afraid; there could be no mistake + about that. + </p> + <p> + Susanna slowly turned her eyes from him to me, as though + calling upon me to witness her victory, and the humiliation + of her foe, and, smiling once more, she walked out of the + room. + </p> + <p> + The veteran remained a little while motionless in his + arm-chair; at last, as though recollecting a forgotten part, + he roused himself, got up, and, slapping me on the shoulder, + laughed his noisy guffaw. + </p> + <p> + 'There, 'pon my soul! fancy now, it's over ten years I've + been living with that young lady, and yet she never can see + when I'm joking, and when I'm in earnest! And you too, my + young friend, are a little puzzled, I do believe.... + Ha-ha-ha! That's because you don't know old Ratsch!' + </p> + <p> + 'No.... I do know you now,' I thought, not without a feeling + of some alarm and disgust. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know the old fellow, you don't know him,' he + repeated, stroking himself on the stomach, as he accompanied + me into the passage. 'I may be a tiresome person, knocked + about by life, ha-ha! But I'm a good-hearted fellow, 'pon my + soul, I am!' + </p> + <p> + I rushed headlong from the stairs into the street. I longed + with all speed to get away from that good-hearted fellow. + </p> + <h3> + XIV + </h3> + <p> + 'They hate one another, that's clear,' I thought, as I + returned homewards; 'there's no doubt either that he's a + wretch of a man, and she's a good girl. But what has there + been between them? What is the reason of this continual + exasperation? What was the meaning of those hints? And how + suddenly it broke out! On such a trivial pretext!' + </p> + <p> + Next day Fustov and I had arranged to go to the theatre, to + see Shtchepkin in 'Woe from Wit.' Griboyedov's comedy had + only just been licensed for performance after being first + disfigured by the censors' mutilations. We warmly applauded + Famusov and Skalozub. I don't remember what actor took the + part of Tchatsky, but I well remember that he was + indescribably bad. He made his first appearance in a + Hungarian jacket, and boots with tassels, and came on later + in a frockcoat of the colour 'flamme du punch,' then in + fashion, and the frockcoat looked about as suitable as it + would have done on our old butler. I recollect too that we + were all in ecstasies over the ball in the third act. Though, + probably, no one ever executed such steps in reality, it was + accepted as correct and I believe it is acted in just the + same way to-day. One of the guests hopped excessively high, + while his wig flew from side to side, and the public roared + with laughter. As we were coming out of the theatre, we + jostled against Viktor in a corridor. + </p> + <p> + 'You were in the theatre!' he cried, flinging his arms about. + 'How was it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You + must come and have supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the + supper!' + </p> + <p> + Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of + mind. His little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and + there were spots of red on his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Why this gleefulness?' asked Fustov. + </p> + <p> + 'Why? Wouldn't you like to know, eh?' Viktor drew us a little + aside, and pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle + of the red and blue notes then in use waved them in the air. + </p> + <p> + Fustov was surprised. + </p> + <p> + 'Has your governor been so liberal?' + </p> + <p> + Viktor chuckled. + </p> + <p> + 'He liberal! You just try it on!... This morning, relying on + your intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose + the old skinflint answered? "I'll pay your debts," says he, + "if you like. Up to twenty-five roubles inclusive!" Do you + hear, inclusive! No, sir, this was a gift from God in my + destitution. A lucky chance.' + </p> + <p> + 'Been robbing someone?' Fustov hazarded carelessly. + </p> + <p> + Viktor frowned. + </p> + <p> + 'Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a + guardsman. He only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a + chain of circumstances! It's worth telling... only this isn't + the place. Come along to Yar's; not a couple of steps. I'll + stand the show, as I said!' + </p> + <p> + We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without + making any objection. + </p> + <h3> + XV + </h3> + <p> + At Yar's we were shown into a private room; supper was + served, champagne was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting + no detail, how he had in a certain 'gay' house met this + officer of the guards, a very nice chap and of good family, + only without a hap'orth of brains; how they had made friends, + how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game + of 'fools' with Viktor with some old cards, for next to + nothing, and with the condition that the officer's winnings + should go to the benefit of Wilhelmina, but Viktor's to his + own benefit; how afterwards they had got on to betting on the + games. + </p> + <p> + 'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped + his hands, 'I hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all + the while. Fancy! And at first I was completely cleaned + out.... A nice position! Only then—in answer to whose + prayers I can't say—fortune smiled. The other fellow + began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no + time he'd lost seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began + begging me to go on playing, but I'm not quite a fool, I + fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I popped on my hat + and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie with the + governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another + bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!' + </p> + <p> + We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and + laughing with him, though his story was by no means to our + liking, nor was his society a source of any great + satisfaction to us either. He began being very affable, + playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more + loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he + was making on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became + more disconnected and his looks gloomier. He began yawning, + announced that he was sleepy, and after swearing with his + characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a badly cleaned + pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging + expression on his distorted face. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you + please, what do you look down on me for?' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down + on me, and that person does too' (he pointed at me with his + finger), 'so there! As though you were yourself remarkable + for such high and exalted principles, and weren't just as + much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse even. Still waters... + you know the proverb?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov turned rather red. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean by that?' he asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, I mean that I'm not blind yet, and I see very clearly + everything that's going on under my nose.... And I have + nothing against it: first it's not my principle to interfere, + and secondly, my sister Susanna Ivanovna hasn't always been + so exemplary herself.... Only, why look down on me?' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand what you're babbling there yourself! + You're drunk,' said Fustov, taking his overcoat from the + wall. 'He's swindled some fool of his money, and now he's + telling all sorts of lies!' + </p> + <p> + Viktor continued reclining on the sofa, and merely swung his + legs, which were hanging over its arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Swindled! Why did you drink the wine, then? It was paid for + with the money I won, you know. As for lies, I've no need for + lying. It's not my fault that in her past Susanna + Ivanovna...' + </p> + <p> + 'Hold your tongue!' Fustov shouted at him, 'hold your + tongue... or...' + </p> + <p> + 'Or what?' + </p> + <p> + 'You'll find out what. Come along, Piotr.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' pursued Viktor; 'our noble-hearted knight takes refuge + in flight. He doesn't care to hear the truth, that's evident! + It stings—the truth does, it seems!' + </p> + <p> + 'Come along, Piotr,' Fustov repeated, completely losing his + habitual coolness and self-possession. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's leave this wretch of a boy!' + </p> + <p> + 'The boy's not afraid of you, do you hear,' Viktor shouted + after us, 'he despises you, the boy does! Do you hear!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov walked so quickly along the street that I had + difficulty in keeping up with him. All at once he stopped + short and turned sharply back. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you going?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I must find out what the idiot.... He's drunk, no doubt, + God knows what.... Only don't you follow me... we shall see + each other to-morrow. Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + And hurriedly pressing my hand, Fustov set off towards Yar's + hotel. + </p> + <p> + Next day I missed seeing Fustov; and on the day after that, + on going to his rooms, I learned that he had gone into the + country to his uncle's, near Moscow. I inquired if he had + left no note for me, but no note was forth-coming. Then I + asked the servant whether he knew how long Alexander + Daviditch would be away in the country. 'A fortnight, or a + little more, probably,' replied the man. I took at any rate + Fustov's exact address, and sauntered home, meditating + deeply. This unexpected absence from Moscow, in the winter, + completed my utter perplexity. My good aunt observed to me at + dinner that I seemed continually expecting something, and + gazed at the cabbage pie as though I were beholding it for + the first time in my life. 'Pierre, vous n'êtes pas + amoureux?' she cried at last, having previously got rid of + her companions. But I reassured her: no, I was not in love. + </p> + <h3> + XVI + </h3> + <p> + Three days passed. I had a secret prompting to go to the + Ratschs'. I fancied that in their house I should be sure to + find a solution of all that absorbed my mind, that I could + not make out.... But I should have had to meet the + veteran.... That thought pulled me up. One tempestuous + evening—the February wind was howling angrily outside, + the frozen snow tapped at the window from time to time like + coarse sand flung by a mighty hand—I was sitting in my + room, trying to read. My servant came, and, with a mysterious + air, announced that a lady wished to see me. I was + surprised... ladies did not visit me, especially at such a + late hour; however, I told him to show her in. The door + opened and with swift step there walked in a woman, muffled + up in a light summer cloak and a yellow shawl. Abruptly she + cast off the cloak and the shawl, which were covered with + snow, and I saw standing before me Susanna. I was so + astonished that I did not utter a word, while she went up to + the window, and leaning her shoulder against the wall, + remained motionless; only her bosom heaved convulsively and + her eyes moved restlessly, and the breath came with a faint + moan from her white lips. I realised that it was no slight + trouble that had brought her to me; I realised, for all my + youth and shallowness, that at that instant before my eyes + the fate of a whole life was being decided—a bitter and + terrible fate. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' I began, 'how...' + </p> + <p> + She suddenly clutched my hand in her icy fingers, but her + voice failed her. She gave a broken sigh and looked down. Her + heavy coils of black hair fell about her face.... The snow + had not melted from off it. + </p> + <p> + 'Please, calm yourself, sit down,' I began again, 'see here, + on the sofa. What has happened? Sit down, I entreat you.' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' she articulated, scarcely audibly, and she sank on to + the window-seat. 'I am all right here.... Let me be.... You + could not expect... but if you knew... if I could... if...' + </p> + <p> + She tried to control herself, but the tears flowed from her + eyes with a violence that shook her, and sobs, hurried, + devouring sobs, filled the room. I felt a tightness at my + heart.... I was utterly stupefied. I had seen Susanna only + twice; I had conjectured that she had a hard life, but I had + regarded her as a proud girl, of strong character, and all at + once these violent, despairing tears.... Mercy! Why, one only + weeps like that in the presence of death! + </p> + <p> + I stood like one condemned to death myself. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' she said at last, several times, almost angrily, + wiping first one eye, then the other. 'It'll soon be over. + I've come to you....' She was still sobbing, but without + tears. 'I've come.... You know that Alexander Daviditch has + gone away?' + </p> + <p> + In this single question Susanna revealed everything, and she + glanced at me, as though she would say: 'You understand, of + course, you will have pity, won't you?' Unhappy girl! There + was no other course left her then! + </p> + <p> + I did not know what answer to make.... + </p> + <p> + 'He has gone away, he has gone away... he believed him!' + Susanna was saying meanwhile. 'He did not care even to + question me; he thought I should not tell him all the truth, + he could think that of me! As though I had ever deceived + him!' + </p> + <p> + She bit her lower lip, and bending a little, began to scratch + with her nail the patterns of ice that covered the + window-pane. I went hastily into the next room, and sending + my servant away, came back at once and lighted another + candle. I had no clear idea why I was doing all this.... I + was greatly overcome. Susanna was sitting as before on the + window-seat, and it was at this moment that I noticed how + lightly she was dressed: a grey gown with white buttons and a + broad leather belt, that was all. I went up to her, but she + did not take any notice of me. + </p> + <p> + 'He believed it,... he believed it,' she whispered, swaying + softly from side to side. 'He did not hesitate, he dealt me + this last... last blow!' She turned suddenly to me. 'You know + his address?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, Susanna Ivanovna.. I learnt it from his servants... at + his house. He told me nothing of his intention; I had not + seen him for two days—went to inquire and he had + already left Moscow.' + </p> + <p> + 'You know his address?' she repeated. 'Well, write to him + then that he has killed me. You are a good man, I know. He + did not talk to you of me, I dare say, but he talked to me + about you. Write... ah, write to him to come back quickly, if + he wants to find me alive!... No! He will not find me!...' + </p> + <p> + Susanna's voice grew quieter at each word, and she was + quieter altogether. But this calm seemed to me more awful + than the previous sobs. + </p> + <p> + 'He believed him,...' she said again, and rested her chin on + her clasped hands. + </p> + <p> + A sudden squall of wind beat upon the window with a sharp + whistle and a thud of snow. A cold draught passed over the + room.... The candles flickered.... Susanna shivered. Again I + begged her to sit on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, let me be,' she answered, 'I am all right here. + Please.' She huddled up to the frozen pane, as though she had + found herself a refuge in the recesses of the window. + 'Please.' + </p> + <p> + 'But you're shivering, you're frozen,' I cried, 'Look, your + shoes are soaked.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me be... please...' she whispered,. and closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + A panic seized me. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna!' I almost screamed: 'do rouse yourself, I + entreat you! What is the matter with you? Why such despair? + You will see, every thing will be cleared up, some + misunderstanding... some unlooked-for chance.... You will + see, he will soon be back. I will let him know.... I will + write to him to-day.... But I will not repeat your words.... + Is it possible!' + </p> + <p> + 'He will not find me,' Susanna murmured, still in the same + subdued voice. 'Do you suppose I would have come here, to + you, to a stranger, if I had not known I should not long be + living? Ah, all my past has been swept away beyond return! + You see, I could not bear to die so, in solitude, in silence, + without saying to some one, "I've lost every thing... and I'm + dying.... Look!"' + </p> + <p> + She drew back into her cold little corner.... Never shall I + forget that head, those fixed eyes with their deep, burnt-out + look, those dark, disordered tresses against the pale + window-pane, even the grey, narrow gown, under every fold of + which throbbed such young, passionate life! + </p> + <p> + Unconsciously I flung up my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'You... you die, Susanna Ivanovna! You have only to live.... + You must live!' + </p> + <p> + She looked at me.... My words seemed to surprise her. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, you don't know,' she began, and she softly dropped both + her hands. 'I cannot live, Too much, too much I have had to + suffer, too much! I lived through it.... I hoped... but + now... when even this is shattered... when...' + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to sink into + thought. The tragic line, which I had once noticed about her + lips, came out now still more clearly; it seemed to spread + across her whole face. It seemed as though some relentless + hand had drawn it immutably, had set a mark for ever on this + lost soul. + </p> + <p> + She was still silent. + </p> + <p> + 'Susanna Ivanovna,' I said, to break that awful silence with + anything; 'he will come back, I assure you!' + </p> + <p> + Susanna looked at me again. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you say?' she enunciated with visible effort. + </p> + <p> + 'He will come back, Susanna Ivanovna, Alexander will come + back!' + </p> + <p> + 'He will come back?' she repeated. 'But even if he did come + back, I cannot forgive him this humiliation, this lack of + faith....' + </p> + <p> + She clutched at her head. + </p> + <p> + 'My God! my God! what am I saying, and why am I here? What is + it all? What... what did I come to ask... and whom? Ah, I am + going mad!...' + </p> + <p> + Her eyes came to a rest. + </p> + <p> + 'You wanted to ask me to write to Alexander,' I made haste to + remind her. + </p> + <p> + She started. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, write, write to him... what you like.... And here...' + She hurriedly fumbled in her pocket and brought out a little + manuscript book. 'This I was writing for him... before he ran + away.... But he believed... he believed him!' + </p> + <p> + I understood that her words referred to Viktor; Susanna would + not mention him, would not utter his detested name. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Susanna Ivanovna, excuse me,' I began, 'what makes you + suppose that Alexander Daviditch had any conversation... with + that person?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? Why, he himself came to me and told me all about it, + and bragged of it... and laughed just as his father laughs! + Here, here, take it,' she went on, thrusting the manuscript + into my hand, 'read it, send it to him, burn it, throw it + away, do what you like, as you please.... But I can't die + like this with no one knowing.... Now it is time.... I must + go.' + </p> + <p> + She got up from the window-seat.... I stopped her. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you going, Susanna Ivanovna, mercy on us! Listen, + what a storm is raging! You are so lightly dressed.... And + your home is not near here. Let me at least go for a + carriage, for a sledge....' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, I want nothing,' she said resolutely, repelling me + and taking up her cloak and shawl. 'Don't keep me, for God's + sake! or... I can't answer for anything! I feel an abyss, a + dark abyss under my feet.... Don't come near me, don't touch + me!' With feverish haste she put on her cloak, arranged her + shawl.... 'Good-bye... good-bye.... Oh, my unhappy people, + for ever strangers, a curse lies upon us! No one has ever + cared for me, was it likely he...' She suddenly ceased. 'No; + one man loved me,' she began again, wringing her hands, 'but + death is all about me, death and no escape! Now it is my + turn.... Don't come after me,' she cried shrilly. 'Don't + come! don't come!' + </p> + <p> + I was petrified, while she rushed out; and an instant later, + I heard the slam downstairs of the heavy street door, and the + window panes shook again under the violent onslaught of the + blast. + </p> + <p> + I could not quickly recover myself. I was only beginning life + in those days: I had had no experience of passion nor of + suffering, and had rarely witnessed any manifestation of + strong feeling in others.... But the sincerity of this + suffering, of this passion, impressed me. If it had not been + for the manuscript in my hands, I might have thought that I + had dreamed it all—it was all so unlikely, and swooped + by like a passing storm. I was till midnight reading the + manuscript. It consisted of several sheets of letter-paper, + closely covered with a large, irregular writing, almost + without an erasure. Not a single line was quite straight, and + one seemed in every one of them to feel the excited trembling + of the hand that held the pen. Here follows what was in the + manuscript. I have kept it to this day. + </p> + <h3> + XVII + </h3> + <h4> + MY STORY + </h4> + <p> + I am this year twenty-eight years old. Here are my earliest + recollections; I was living in the Tambov province, in the + country house of a rich landowner, Ivan Matveitch Koltovsky, + in a small room on the second storey. With me lived my + mother, a Jewess, daughter of a dead painter, who had come + from abroad, a woman always ailing, with an extraordinarily + beautiful face, pale as wax, and such mournful eyes, that + sometimes when she gazed long at me, even without looking at + her, I was aware of her sorrowful, sorrowful eyes, and I + would burst into tears and rush to embrace her. I had tutors + come to me; I had music lessons, and was called 'miss.' I + dined at the master's table together with my mother. Mr. + Koltovsky was a tall, handsome old man with a stately manner; + he always smelt of <i>ambre</i>. I stood in mortal terror of + him, though he called me Suzon and gave me his dry, sinewy + hand to kiss under its lace-ruffles. With my mother he was + elaborately courteous, but he talked little even with her. He + would say two or three affable words, to which she promptly + made a hurried answer; and he would be silent and sit looking + about him with dignity, and slowly picking up a pinch of + Spanish snuff from his round, golden snuff-box with the arms + of the Empress Catherine on it. + </p> + <p> + My ninth year has always remained vivid in my memory.... I + learnt then, from the maids in the servants' room, that Ivan + Matveitch Koltovsky was my father, and almost on the same + day, my mother, by his command, was married to Mr. Ratsch, + who was something like a steward to him. I was utterly unable + to comprehend the possibility of such a thing, I was + bewildered, I was almost ill, my brain suffered under the + strain, my mind was overclouded. 'Is it true, is it true, + mamma,' I asked her, 'that scented bogey' (that was my name + for Ivan Matveitch) 'is my father?' My mother was terribly + scared, she shut my mouth.... 'Never speak to any one of + that, do you hear, Susanna, do you hear, not a word!'... she + repeated in a shaking voice, pressing my head to her + bosom.... And I never did speak to any one of it.... That + prohibition of my mother's I understood.... I understood that + I must be silent, that my mother begged my forgiveness! + </p> + <p> + My unhappiness began from that day. Mr. Ratsch did not love + my mother, and she did not love him. He married her for + money, and she was obliged to submit. Mr. Koltovsky probably + considered that in this way everything had been arranged for + the best, <i>la position était + régularisée</i>. I remember the day before the + marriage my mother and I—both locked in each other's + arms—wept almost the whole morning—bitterly, + bitterly—and silently. It is not strange that she was + silent.... What could she say to me? But that I did not + question her shows that unhappy children learn wisdom sooner + than happy ones... to their cost. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Koltovsky continued to interest himself in my education, + and even by degrees put me on a more intimate footing. He did + not talk to me... but morning and evening, after flicking the + snuff from his jabot with two fingers, he would with the same + two fingers—always icy cold—pat me on the cheek + and give me some sort of dark-coloured sweetmeats, also + smelling of <i>ambre</i>, which I never ate. At twelve years + old I became his reader—-<i>sa petite lectrice</i>. I + read him French books of the last century, the memoirs of + Saint Simon, of Mably, Renal, Helvetius, Voltaire's + correspondence, the encyclopedists, of course without + understanding a word, even when, with a smile and a grimace, + he ordered me, 'relire ce dernier paragraphe, qui est bien + remarquable!' Ivan Matveitch was completely a Frenchman. He + had lived in Paris till the Revolution, remembered Marie + Antoinette, and had received an invitation to Trianon to see + her. He had also seen Mirabeau, who, according to his + account, wore very large + buttons—<i>exagéré en tout</i>, and was + altogether a man of <i>mauvais ton, en dépit de sa + naissance!</i> Ivan Matveitch, however, rarely talked of that + time; but two or three times a year, addressing himself to + the crooked old emigrant whom he had taken into his house, + and called for some unknown reason 'M. le Commandeur,' he + recited in his deliberate, nasal voice, the impromptu he had + once delivered at a soiree of the Duchesse de Polignac. I + remember only the first two lines.... It had reference to a + comparison between the Russians and the French: + </p> + <pre> + 'L'aigle se plait aux regions austères + Ou le ramier ne saurait habiter...' +</pre> + <p> + 'Digne de M. de Saint Aulaire!' M. le Commandeur would every + time exclaim. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch looked youngish up to the time of his death: + his cheeks were rosy, his teeth white, his eyebrows thick and + immobile, his eyes agreeable and expressive, clear, black + eyes, perfect agate. He was not at all unreasonable, and was + very courteous with every one, even with the servants.... + But, my God! how wretched I was with him, with what joy I + always left him, what evil thoughts confounded me in his + presence! Ah, I was not to blame for them!... I was not to + blame for what they had made of me.... + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch was, after his marriage, assigned a lodge not far + from the big house. I lived there with my mother. It was a + cheerless life I led there. She soon gave birth to a son, + Viktor, this same Viktor whom I have every right to think and + to call my enemy. From the time of his birth my mother never + regained her health, which had always been weak. Mr. Ratsch + did not think fit in those days to keep up such a show of + good spirits as he maintains now: he always wore a morose air + and tried to pass for a busy, hard-working person. To me he + was cruel and rude. I felt relief when I retired from Ivan + Matveitch's presence; but my own home too I was glad to + leave.... Unhappy was my youth! For ever tossed from one + shore to the other, with no desire to anchor at either! I + would run across the courtyard in winter, through the deep + snow, in a thin frock—run to the big house to read to + Ivan Matveitch, and as it were be glad to go.... But when I + was there, when I saw those great cheerless rooms, the + bright-coloured, upholstered furniture, that courteous and + heartless old man in the open silk wadded jacket, in the + white jabot and white cravat, with lace ruffles falling over + his fingers, with a <i>soupçon</i> of powder (so his + valet expressed it) on his combed-back hair, I felt choked by + the stifling scent of <i>ambre</i>, and my heart sank. Ivan + Matveitch usually sat in a large low chair; on the wall + behind his head hung a picture, representing a young woman, + with a bright and bold expression of face, dressed in a + sumptuous Hebrew costume, and simply covered with precious + stones, with diamonds.... I often stole a glance at this + picture, but only later on I learned that it was the portrait + of my mother, painted by her father at Ivan Matveitch's + request. She had changed indeed since those days! Well had he + succeeded in subduing and crushing her! 'And she loved him! + Loved that old man!' was my thought.... 'How could it be! + Love him!' And yet, when I recalled some of my mother's + glances, some half-uttered phrases and unconscious + gestures.... 'Yes, yes, she did love him!' I repeated with + horror. Ah, God, spare others from knowing aught of such + feelings! + </p> + <p> + Every day I read to Ivan Matveitch, sometimes for three or + four hours together.... So much reading in such a loud voice + was harmful to me. Our doctor was anxious about my lungs and + even once communicated his fears to Ivan Matveitch. But the + old man only smiled—no; he never smiled, but somehow + sharpened and moved forward his lips—and told him: + 'Vous ne savez pas ce qu'il y a de ressources dans cette + jeunesse.' 'In former years, however, M. le Commandeur,'... + the doctor ventured to observe. Ivan Matveitch smiled as + before. 'Vous rêvez, mon cher,' he interposed: 'le + commandeur n'a plus de dents, et il crache à chaque + mot. J'aime les voix jeunes.' + </p> + <p> + And I still went on reading, though my cough was very + troublesome in the mornings and at night.... Sometimes Ivan + Matveitch made me play the piano. But music always had a + soporific influence on his nerves. His eyes closed at once, + his head nodded in time, and only rarely I heard, 'C'est du + Steibelt, n'est-ce pas? Jouez-moi du Steibelt!' Ivan + Matveitch looked upon Steibelt as a great genius, who had + succeeded in overcoming in himself 'la grossière + lourdeur des Allemands,' and only found fault with him for + one thing: 'trop de fougue! trop d'imagination!'... When Ivan + Matveitch noticed that I was tired from playing he would + offer me 'du cachou de Bologne.' So day after day slipped + by.... + </p> + <p> + And then one night—a night never to be + forgotten!—a terrible calamity fell upon me. My mother + died almost suddenly. I was only just fifteen. Oh, what a + sorrow that was, with what cruel violence it swooped down + upon me! How terrified I was at that first meeting with + death! My poor mother! Strange were our relations; we + passionately loved each other... passionately and hopelessly; + we both as it were treasured up and hid from each other our + common secret, kept obstinately silent about it, though we + knew all that was passing at the bottom of our hearts! Even + of the past, of her own early past, my mother never spoke to + me, and she never complained in words, though her whole being + was nothing but one dumb complaint. We avoided all + conversation of any seriousness. Alas! I kept hoping that the + hour would come, and she would open her heart at last, and I + too should speak out, and both of us would be more at + ease.... But the daily little cares, her irresolute, + shrinking temper, illnesses, the presence of Mr. Ratsch, and + most of all the eternal question,—what is the use? and + the relentless, unbroken flowing away of time, of life.... + All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the words + which would have loosed us from the burden of our + secret—even the last dying words of + leave-taking—I was not destined to hear from my mother! + All that is left in my memory is Mr. Ratsch's calling, + 'Susanna Ivanovna, go, please, your mother wishes to give you + her blessing!' and then the pale hand stretched out from the + heavy counterpane, the agonised breathing, the dying eyes.... + Oh, enough! enough! + </p> + <p> + With what horror, with what indignation and piteous curiosity + I looked next day, and on the day of the funeral, into the + face of my father... yes, my father! In my dead mother's + writing-case were found his letters. I fancied he looked a + little pale and drawn... but no! Nothing was stirring in that + heart of stone. Exactly as before, he summoned me to his + room, a week later; exactly in the same voice he asked me to + read: 'Si vous le voulez bien, les observations sur + l'histoire de France de Mably, à la page 74... + là où nous avons ètè + interrompus.' And he had not even had my mother's portrait + moved! On dismissing me, he did indeed call me to him, and + giving me his hand to kiss a second time, he observed: + 'Suzanne, la mort de votre mère vous a privée + de votre appui naturel; mais vous pourrez toujours compter + sur ma protection,' but with the other hand he gave me at + once a slight push on the shoulder, and, with the sharpening + of the corners of the mouth habitual with him, he added, + 'Allez, mon enfant.' I longed to shriek at him: 'Why, but you + know you're my father!' but I said nothing and left the room. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, early, I went to the graveyard. May had come in + all its glory of flowers and leaves, and a long while I sat + on the new grave. I did not weep, nor grieve; one thought was + filling my brain: 'Do you hear, mother? He means to extend + his protection to me, too!' And it seemed to me that my + mother ought not to be wounded by the smile which it + instinctively called up on my lips. + </p> + <p> + At times I wonder what made me so persistently desire to + wring—not a confession... no, indeed! but, at least, + one warm word of kinship from Ivan Matveitch? Didn't I know + what he was, and how little he was like all that I pictured + in my dreams as a <i>father</i>!... But I was so lonely, so + alone on earth! And then, that thought, ever recurring, gave + me no rest: 'Did not she love him? She must have loved him + for something?' + </p> + <p> + Three years more slipped by. Nothing changed in the + monotonous round of life, marked out and arranged for us. + Viktor was growing into a boy. I was eight years older and + would gladly have looked after him, but Mr. Ratsch opposed my + doing so. He gave him a nurse, who had orders to keep strict + watch that the child was not 'spoilt,' that is, not to allow + me to go near him. And Viktor himself fought shy of me. One + day Mr. Ratsch came into my room, perturbed, excited, and + angry. On the previous evening unpleasant rumours had reached + me about my stepfather; the servants were talking of his + having been caught embezzling a considerable sum of money, + and taking bribes from a merchant. + </p> + <p> + 'You can assist me,' he began, tapping impatiently on the + table with his fingers. 'Go and speak for me to Ivan + Matveitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak for you? On what ground? What about?' + </p> + <p> + 'Intercede for me.... I'm not like a stranger any way... I'm + accused... well, the fact is, I may be left without bread to + eat, and you, too.' + </p> + <p> + 'But how can I go to him? How can I disturb him?' + </p> + <p> + 'What next! You have a right to disturb him!' + </p> + <p> + 'What right, Ivan Demianitch?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, no humbug.... He cannot refuse you, for many reasons. + Do you mean to tell me you don't understand that?' + </p> + <p> + He looked insolently into my eyes, and I felt my cheeks + simply burning. Hatred, contempt, rose up within me, surged + in a rush upon me, drowning me. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I understand you, Ivan Demianitch,' I answered at + last—my own voice seemed strange to me—'and I am + not going to Ivan Matveitch, and I will not ask him for + anything. Bread, or no bread!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch shivered, ground his teeth, and clenched his + fists. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, wait a bit, your highness!' he muttered huskily. + 'I won't forget it!' That same day, Ivan Matveitch sent for + him, and, I was told, shook his cane at him, the very cane + which he had once exchanged with the Due de la Rochefoucauld, + and cried, 'You be a scoundrel and extortioner! I put you + outside!' Ivan Matveitch could hardly speak Russian at all, + and despised our 'coarse jargon,' <i>ce jargon vulgaire et + rude</i>. Some one once said before him, 'That same's + self-understood.' Ivan Matveitch was quite indignant, and + often afterwards quoted the phrase as an example of the + senselessness and absurdity of the Russian tongue. 'What does + it mean, that same's self-understood?' he would ask in + Russian, with emphasis on each syllable. 'Why not simply + that's understood, and why same and self?' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch did not, however, dismiss Mr. Ratsch, he did + not even deprive him of his position. But my stepfather kept + his word: he never forgot it. + </p> + <p> + I began to notice a change in Ivan Matveitch. He was + low-spirited, depressed, his health broke down a little. His + fresh, rosy face grew yellow and wrinkled; he lost a front + tooth. He quite ceased going out, and gave up the + reception-days he had established for the peasants, without + the assistance of the priest, <i>sans le concours du + clergé</i>. On such days Ivan Matveitch had been in + the habit of going in to the peasants in the hall or on the + balcony, with a rose in his buttonhole, and putting his lips + to a silver goblet of vodka, he would make them a speech + something like this: 'You are content with my actions, even + as I am content with your zeal, whereat I rejoice truly. We + are all <i>brothers</i>; at our birth we are equal; I drink + your health!' He bowed to them, and the peasants bowed to + him, but only from the waist, no prostrating themselves to + the ground, that was strictly forbidden. The peasants were + entertained with good cheer as before, but Ivan Matveitch no + longer showed himself to his subjects. Sometimes he + interrupted my reading with exclamations: 'La machine se + détraque! Cela se gâte!' Even his + eyes—those bright, stony eyes—began to grow dim + and, as it were, smaller; he dozed oftener than ever and + breathed hard in his sleep. His manner with me was unchanged; + only a shade of chivalrous deference began to be perceptible + in it. He never failed to get up—though with + difficulty—from his chair when I came in, conducted me + to the door, supporting me with his hand under my elbow, and + instead of Suzon began to call me sometimes, 'ma chère + demoiselle,' sometimes, 'mon Antigone.' M. le Commandeur died + two years after my mother's death; his death seemed to affect + Ivan Matveitch far more deeply. A contemporary had + disappeared: that was what distressed him. And yet in later + years M. le Commandeur's sole service had consisted in + crying, 'Bien joué, mal réussi!' every time + Ivan Matveitch missed a stroke, playing billiards with Mr. + Ratsch; though, indeed, too, when Ivan Matveitch addressed + him at table with some such question as: 'N'est-ce pas, M. le + Commandeur, c'est Montesquieu qui a dit cela dans ses + <i>Lettres Persanes</i>?' he had still, sometimes dropping a + spoonful of soup on his ruffle, responded profoundly: 'Ah, + Monsieur de Montesquieu? Un grand écrivain, monsieur, + un grand écrivain!' Only once, when Ivan Matveitch + told him that 'les théophilanthropes ont eu pourtant + du bon!' the old man cried in an excited voice, 'Monsieur de + Kolontouskoi' (he hadn't succeeded in the course of twenty + years in learning to pronounce his patron's name correctly), + 'Monsieur de Kolontouskoi! Leur fondateur, l'instigateur de + cette secte, ce La Reveillère Lepeaux était un + bonnet rouge!' 'Non, non,' said Ivan Matveitch, smiling and + rolling together a pinch of snuff: 'des fleurs, des jeunes + vierges, le culte de la Nature... ils out eu du bon, ils out + eu du bon!'...I was always surprised at the extent of Ivan + Matveitch's knowledge, and at the uselessness of his + knowledge to himself. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Matveitch was perceptibly failing, but he still put a + good face on it. One day, three weeks before his death, he + had a violent attack of giddiness just after dinner. He sank + into thought, said, 'C'est la fin,' and pulling himself + together with a sigh, he wrote a letter to Petersburg to his + sole heir, a brother with whom he had had no intercourse for + twenty years. Hearing that Ivan Matveitch was unwell, a + neighbour paid him a visit—a German, a + Catholic—once a distinguished physician, who was living + in retirement in his little place in the country. He was very + rarely at Ivan Matveitch's, but the latter always received + him with special deference, and in fact had a great respect + for him. He was almost the only person in the world he did + respect. The old man advised Ivan Matveitch to send for a + priest, but Ivan Matveitch responded that 'ces messieurs et + moi, nous n'avons rien à nous dire,' and begged him to + change the subject. On the neighbour's departure, he gave his + valet orders to admit no one in future. + </p> + <p> + Then he sent for me. I was frightened when I saw him; there + were blue patches under his eyes, his face looked drawn and + stiff, his jaw hung down. 'Vous voila grande, Suzon,' he + said, with difficulty articulating the consonants, but still + trying to smile (I was then nineteen), 'vous allez + peut-être bientót rester seule. Soyez toujours + sage et vertueuse. C'est la dernière + récommandation d'un'—he coughed—'d'un + vieillard qui vous veut du bien. Je vous ai recommandé + à mon frère et je ne doute pas qu'il ne + respecte mes volontés....' He coughed again, and + anxiously felt his chest. 'Du reste, j'esèpre encore + pouvoir faire quelque chose pour vous... dans mon testament.' + This last phrase cut me to the heart, like a knife. Ah, it + was really too... too contemptuous and insulting! Ivan + Matveitch probably ascribed to some other feeling—to a + feeling of grief or gratitude—what was expressed in my + face, and as though wishing to comfort me, he patted me on + the shoulder, at the same time, as usual, gently repelling + me, and observed: 'Voyons, mon enfant, du courage! Nous + sommes tous mortels! Et puis il n'y a pas encore de danger. + Ce n'est qu'une précaution que j'ai cru devoir + prendre.... Allez!' + </p> + <p> + Again, just as when he had summoned me after my mother's + death, I longed to shriek at him, 'But I'm your daughter! + your daughter!' But I thought in those words, in that cry of + the heart, he would doubtless hear nothing but a desire to + assert my rights, my claims on his property, on his money.... + Oh, no, for nothing in the world would I say a word to this + man, who had not once mentioned my mother's name to me, in + whose eyes I was of so little account that he did not even + trouble himself to ascertain whether I was aware of my + parentage! Or, perhaps, he suspected, even knew it, and did + not wish 'to raise a dust' (a favourite saying of his, almost + the only Russian expression he ever used), did not care to + deprive himself of a good reader with a young voice! No! no! + Let him go on wronging his daughter, as he had wronged her + mother! Let him carry both sins to the grave! I swore it, I + swore he should not hear from my lips the word which must + have something of a sweet and holy sound in every ear! I + would not say to him father! I would not forgive him for my + mother and myself! He felt no need of that forgiveness, of + that name.... It could not be, it could not be that he felt + no need of it! But he should not have forgiveness, he should + not, he should not! + </p> + <p> + God knows whether I should have kept my vow, and whether my + heart would not have softened, whether I should not have + overcome my shyness, my shame, and my pride... but it + happened with Ivan Matveitch just as with my mother. Death + carried him off suddenly, and also in the night. It was again + Mr. Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to + Ivan Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last + dying gestures, which had left such a vivid impression on my + memory at my mother's bedside. On the embroidered, lace-edged + pillows lay a sort of withered, dark-coloured doll, with + sharp nose and ruffled grey eyebrows.... I shrieked with + horror, with loathing, rushed away, stumbled in doorways + against bearded peasants in smocks with holiday red sashes, + and found myself, I don't remember how, in the fresh air.... + </p> + <p> + I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the + bedroom, at a violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan + Matveitch not in the bed, but a few feet from it. And that he + was sitting huddled up on the floor, and that twice over he + repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for you!' + And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe + that. Was it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, + and such a homely old Russian saying too! + </p> + <p> + For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival + of the new master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders + that nothing was to be touched, no one was to be discharged, + till he had looked into everything in person. All the doors, + all the furniture, drawers, tables—all were locked and + sealed up. All the servants were downcast and apprehensive. I + became suddenly one of the most important persons in the + house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as + 'the young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to + take a new significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar + emphasis. It began to be whispered that 'the old master had + died suddenly, and hadn't time to send for a priest, indeed + and he hadn't been at confession for many a long day; but + still, a will doesn't take long to make.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. + He did not affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he + would not impose upon me, but his face wore an expression of + sulky resignation. 'You see, I give in,' he seemed to say. + Every one showed me deference, and tried to please me... + while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could + only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were + hurting me. At last Semyon Matveitch arrived. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch was ten years younger than Ivan Matveitch, + and his whole life had taken a completely different turn. He + was a government official in Petersburg, filling an important + position.... He had married and been left early a widower; he + had one son. In face Semyon Matveitch was like his brother, + only he was shorter and stouter, and had a round bald head, + bright black eyes, like Ivan Matveitch's, only more + prominent, and full red lips. Unlike his brother, whom he + spoke of even after his death as a French philosopher, and + sometimes bluntly as a queer fish, Semyon Matveitch almost + invariably talked Russian, loudly and fluently, and he was + constantly laughing, completely closing his eyes as he did so + and shaking all over in an unpleasant way, as though he were + shaking with rage. He looked after things very sharply, went + into everything himself, exacted the strictest account from + every one. The very first day of his arrival he ordered a + service with holy water, and sprinkled everything with water, + all the rooms in the house, even the lofts and the cellars, + in order, as he put it, 'radically to expel the Voltairean + and Jacobin spirit.' In the first week several of Ivan + Matveitch's favourites were sent to the right-about, one was + even banished to a settlement, corporal punishment was + inflicted on others; the old valet—he was a Turk, knew + French, and had been given to Ivan Matveitch by the late + field-marshal Kamensky—received his freedom, indeed, + but with it a command to be gone within twenty-four hours, + 'as an example to others.' Semyon Matveitch turned out to be + a harsh master; many probably regretted the late owner. + </p> + <p> + 'With the old master, Ivan Matveitch,' a butler, decrepit + with age, wailed in my presence, 'our only trouble was to see + that the linen put out was clean, and that the rooms smelt + sweet, and that the servants' voices weren't heard in the + passages—God forbid! For the rest, you might do as you + pleased. The old master never hurt a fly in his life! Ah, + it's hard times now! It's time to die!' + </p> + <p> + Rapid, too, was the change in my position, that is to say in + the position in which I had been placed for a few days + against my own will.... No sort of will was found among Ivan + Matveitch's papers, not a line written for my benefit. At + once every one seemed in haste to avoid me.... I am not + speaking of Mr. Ratsch... every one else, too, was angry with + me, and tried to show their anger, as though I had deceived + them. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday after matins, in which he invariably officiated at + the altar, Semyon Matveitch sent for me. Till that day I had + seen him by glimpses, and he seemed not to have noticed me. + He received me in his study, standing at the window. He was + wearing an official uniform with two stars. I stood still, + near the door; my heart was beating violently from fear and + from another feeling, vague as yet, but still oppressive. 'I + wish to see you, young lady,' began Semyon Matveitch, + glancing first at my feet, and then suddenly into my eyes. + The look was like a slap in the face. 'I wished to see you to + inform you of my decision, and to assure you of my + unhesitating inclination to be of service to you.' He raised + his voice. 'Claims, of course, you have none, but as... my + brother's reader you may always reckon on my... my + consideration. I am... of course convinced of your good sense + and of your principles. Mr. Ratsch, your stepfather, has + already received from me the necessary instructions. To which + I must add that your attractive exterior seems to me a pledge + of the excellence of your sentiments.' Semyon Matveitch went + off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended + exactly... but I suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and + at that moment I fully realised how utterly forsaken and + alone I was. Semyon Matveitch went with short, firm steps to + the table, took a roll of notes out of the drawer, and + putting it in my hand, he added: 'Here is a small sum from me + for pocket-money. I won't forget you in future, my pretty; + but good-bye for the present, and be a good girl.' I took the + roll mechanically: I should have taken anything he had + offered me, and going back to my own room, a long while I + wept, sitting on my bed. I did not notice that I had dropped + the roll of notes on the floor. Mr. Ratsch found it and + picked it up, and, asking me what I meant to do with it, kept + it for himself. + </p> + <p> + An important change had taken place in his fortunes too in + those days. After a few conversations with Semyon Matveitch, + he became a great favourite, and soon after received the + position of head steward. From that time dates his + cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it was an + effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became + a habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. + Semyon Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he + called himself 'a true Russian bear,' and ridiculed the + European dress, which he wore however. He sent away to a + remote village a cook, on whose training Ivan Matveitch had + spent vast sums: he sent him away because he had not known + how to prepare pickled giblets. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch used to stand at the altar and join in the + responses with the deacons, and when the serf-girls were + brought together to dance and sing choruses, he would join in + their songs too, and beat time with his feet, and pinch their + cheeks.... But he soon went back to Petersburg, leaving my + stepfather practically in complete control of the whole + property. + </p> + <p> + Bitter days began for me.... My one consolation was music, + and I gave myself up to it with my whole soul. Fortunately + Mr. Ratsch was very fully occupied, but he took every + opportunity to make me feel his hostility; as he had + promised, he 'did not forget' my refusal. He ill-treated me, + made me copy his long and lying reports to Semyon Matveitch, + and correct for him the mistakes in spelling. I was forced to + obey him absolutely, and I did obey him. He announced that he + meant to tame me, to make me as soft as silk. 'What do you + mean by those mutinous eyes?' he shouted sometimes at dinner, + drinking his beer, and slapping the table with his hand. 'You + think, maybe, you're as silent as a sheep, so you must be all + right.... Oh, no! You'll please look at me like a sheep too!' + My position became a torture, insufferable,... my heart was + growing bitter. Something dangerous began more and more + frequently to stir within it. I passed nights without sleep + and without a light, thinking, thinking incessantly; and in + the darkness without and the gloom within, a fearful + determination began to shape itself. The arrival of Semyon + Matveitch gave another turn to my thoughts. + </p> + <p> + No one had expected him. It turned out that he was retiring + in unpleasant circumstances; he had hoped to receive the + Alexander ribbon, and they had presented him with a + snuff-box. Discontented with the government, which had failed + to appreciate his talents, and with Petersburg society, which + had shown him little sympathy, and did not share his + indignation, he determined to settle in the country, and + devote himself to the management of his property. He arrived + alone. His son, Mihail Semyonitch, arrived later, in the + holidays for the New Year. My stepfather was scarcely ever + out of Semyon Matveitch's room; he still stood high in his + good graces. He left me in peace; he had no time for me + then... Semyon Matveitch had taken it into his head to start + a paper factory. Mr. Ratsch had no knowledge whatever of + manufacturing work, and Semyon Matveitch was aware of the + fact; but then my stepfather was an active man (the favourite + expression just then), an 'Araktcheev!' That was just what + Semyon Matveitch used to call him—'my Araktcheev!' + 'That's all I want,' Semyon Matveitch maintained; 'if there + is zeal, I myself will direct it.' In the midst of his + numerous occupations—he had to superintend the factory, + the estate, the foundation of a counting-house, the drawing + up of counting-house regulations, the creation of new offices + and duties—Semyon Matveitch still had time to attend to + me. + </p> + <p> + I was summoned one evening to the drawing-room, and set to + play the piano. Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less + than his brother; he praised and thanked me, however, and + next day I was invited to dine at the master's table. After + dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long conversation with + me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, though + there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at + me so strangely... I felt uncomfortable. I did not like his + eyes, I did not like their open expression, their clear + glance.... It always seemed to me that this very openness + concealed something evil, that under that clear brilliance it + was dark within in his soul. 'You shall not be my reader,' + Semyon Matveitch announced to me at last, prinking and + setting himself to rights in a repulsive way. 'I am, thank + God, not blind yet, and can read myself; but coffee will + taste better to me from your little hands, and I shall listen + to your playing with pleasure.' From that day I always went + over to the big house to dinner, and sometimes remained in + the drawing-room till evening. I too, like my stepfather, was + in favour: it was not a source of joy for me. Semyon + Matveitch, I am bound to own, showed me a certain respect, + but in the man there was, I felt it, something that repelled + and alarmed me. And that 'something' showed itself not in + words, but in his eyes, in those wicked eyes, and in his + laugh. He never spoke to me of my father, of his brother, and + it seemed to me that he avoided the subject, not because he + did not want to excite ambitious ideas or pretensions in me, + but from another cause, to which I could not give a definite + shape, but which made me blush and feel bewildered.... + Towards Christmas came his son, Mihail Semyonitch. + </p> + <p> + Ah, I feel I cannot go on as I have begun; these memories are + too painful. Especially now I cannot tell my story calmly.... + But what is the use of concealment? I loved Michel, and he + loved me. + </p> + <p> + How it came to pass—I am not going to describe that + either. From the very evening when he came into the + drawing-room—I was at the piano, playing a sonata of + Weber's when he came in—handsome and slender, in a + velvet coat lined with sheepskin and high gaiters, just as he + was, straight from the frost outside, and shaking his + snow-sprinkled, sable cap, before he had greeted his father, + glanced swiftly at me, and wondered—I knew that from + that evening I could never forget him—I could never + forget that good, young face. He began to speak... and his + voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, + and in every sound such a true, honest nature! + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced + him, but at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh?' + and sent me away. + </p> + <p> + I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights + flitting to and fro in the rooms of the big house. I watched + them, I listened to the new, unfamiliar voices; I was + attracted by the cheerful commotion, and something new, + unfamiliar, bright, flitted into my soul too.... The next day + before dinner I had my first conversation with him. He had + come across to see my stepfather with some message from + Semyon Matveitch, and he found me in our little sitting-room. + I was getting up to go; he detained me. He was very lively + and unconstrained in all his movements and words, but of + superciliousness or arrogance, of the tone of Petersburg + superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the + officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very + freedom of his manner there was something appealing, almost + shamefaced, as though he were begging you to overlook + something. Some people's eyes are never laughing, even at the + moment of laughter; with <i>him</i> it was the lips that + almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes + were almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an + hour... what about I don't remember; I remember only that I + looked him straight in the face all the while, and oh, how + delightfully at ease I felt with him! + </p> + <p> + In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of + music, and he sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly + head on his arm, he listened intently. He did not once praise + me, but I felt that he liked my playing, and I played with + ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting near his son, + looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come, madam,' + he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as + his manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away + like a canary? It's enough to make one's head ache. For us + old folks you wouldn't exert yourself so, no fear...' he + added in an undertone, and again he sent me away. Michel + followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his + seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried + Semyon Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said + something more... I could not catch his words; but Mr. + Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a corner of the + drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he had + brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my + ears.... The same thing, or almost the same thing, was + repeated the following evening... Semyon Matveitch grew + suddenly cooler to me. + </p> + <p> + Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the + big house in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a + room near the dining-room, which was called the portrait + gallery. I followed him, not without emotion, but with + perfect confidence. Even then, I believe, I would have + followed him to the end of the world, though I had as yet no + suspicion of all that he was to me. Alas, I loved him with + all the passion, all the despair of a young creature who not + only has no one to love, but feels herself an uninvited and + unnecessary guest among strangers, among enemies!... Michel + said to me—and it was strange! I looked boldly, + directly in his face, while he did not look at me, and + flushed slightly—he said to me that he understood my + position, and sympathised with me, and begged me to forgive + his father.... 'As far as I'm concerned,' he added, 'I + beseech you always to trust me, and believe me, to me you 're + a sister—yes, a sister.' Here he pressed my hand + warmly. I was confused, it was my turn to look down; I had + somehow expected something else, some other word. I began to + thank him. 'No, please,'—he cut me short—'don't + talk like that.... But remember, it's a brother's duty to + defend his sister, and if you ever need protection, against + any one whatever, rely upon me. I have not been here long, + but I have seen a good deal already... and among other + things, I see through your stepfather.' He squeezed my hand + again, and left me. + </p> + <p> + I found out later that Michel had felt an aversion for Mr. + Ratsch from his very first meeting with him. Mr. Ratsch tried + to ingratiate himself with him too, but becoming convinced of + the uselessness of his efforts, promptly took up himself an + attitude of hostility to him, and not only did not disguise + it from Semyon Matveitch, but, on the contrary, lost no + opportunity of showing it, expressing, at the same time, his + regret that he had been so unlucky as to displease the young + heir. Mr. Ratsch had carefully studied Semyon Matveitch's + character; his calculations did not lead him astray. 'This + man's devotion to me admits of no doubt, for the very reason + that after I am gone he will be ruined; my heir cannot endure + him.'... This idea grew and strengthened in the old man's + head. They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are + readily caught by that bait, the bait of exclusive personal + devotion.... + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his + Araktcheev.... He might well have called him another name + too. 'You're not one to make difficulties,' he used to say to + him. He had begun in this condescendingly familiar tone with + him from the very first, and my stepfather would gaze fondly + at Semyon Matveitch, let his head droop deprecatingly on one + side, and laugh with good-humoured simplicity, as though to + say, 'Here I am, entirely in your hands.' + </p> + <p> + Ah, I feel my hands shaking, and my heart's thumping against + the table on which I write at this moment. It's terrible for + me to recall those days, and my blood boils.... But I will + tell everything to the end... to the end! + </p> + <p> + A new element had come into Mr. Ratsch's treatment of me + during my brief period of favour. He began to be deferential + to me, to be respectfully familiar with me, as though I had + grown sensible, and become more on a level with him. 'You've + done with your airs and graces,' he said to me one day, as we + were going back from the big house to the lodge. 'Quite right + too! All those fine principles and delicate + sentiments—moral precepts in fact—are not for us, + young lady, they're not for poor folks.' + </p> + <p> + When I had fallen out of favour, and Michel did not think it + necessary to disguise his contempt for Mr. Ratsch and his + sympathy with me, the latter suddenly redoubled his severity + with me; he was continually following me about, as though I + were capable of any crime, and must be sharply looked after. + 'You mind what I say,' he shouted, bursting without knocking + into my room, in muddy boots and with his cap on his head; 'I + won't put up with such goings on! I won't stand your stuck-up + airs! You're not going to impose on me. I'll break your proud + spirit.' + </p> + <p> + And accordingly, one morning he informed me that the decree + had gone forth from Semyon Matveitch that I was not to appear + at the dinner-table for the future without special + invitation.... I don't know how all this would have ended if + it had not been for an event which was the final + turning-point of my destiny.... + </p> + <p> + Michel was passionately fond of horses. He took it into his + head to break in a young horse, which went well for a while, + then began kicking and flung him out of the sledge.... He was + brought home unconscious, with a broken arm and bruises on + his chest. His father was panic-stricken; he sent for the + best doctors from the town. They did a great deal for Michel; + but he had to lie down for a month. He did not play cards, + the doctor forbade him to talk, and it was awkward for him to + read, holding the book up in one hand all the while. It ended + by Semyon Matveitch sending me in to his son, in my old + capacity of reader. + </p> + <p> + Then followed hours I can never forget! I used to go in to + Michel directly after dinner, and sit at a little round table + in the half-darkened window. He used to be lying down in a + little room out of the drawing-room, at the further end, on a + broad leather sofa in the Empire style, with a gold + bas-relief on its high, straight back. The bas-relief + represented a marriage procession among the ancients. + Michel's head, thrown a little back on the pillow, always + moved at once, and his pale face turned towards me: he + smiled, his whole face brightened, he flung back his soft, + damp curls, and said to me softly, 'Good-morning, my kind + sweet girl.' I took up the book—Walter Scott's novels + were at the height of their fame in those days—the + reading of Ivanhoe has left a particularly vivid recollection + in my mind.... I could not help my voice thrilling and + quivering as I gave utterance to Rebecca's speeches. I, too, + had Jewish blood, and was not my lot like hers? Was I not, + like Rebecca, waiting on a sick man, dear to me? Every time I + removed my eyes from the page and lifted them to him, I met + his eyes with the same soft, bright smile over all his face. + We talked very little; the door into the drawing-room was + invariably open and some one was always sitting there; but + whenever it was quiet there, I used, I don't know why, to + cease reading and look intently at Michel, and he looked at + me, and we both felt happy then and, as it were, glad and + shamefaced, and everything, everything we told each other + then without a gesture or a word! Alas! our hearts came + together, ran to meet each other, as underground streams flow + together, unseen, unheard... and irresistibly. + </p> + <p> + 'Can you play chess or draughts?' he asked me one day. + </p> + <p> + 'I can play chess a little,' I answered. + </p> + <p> + 'That's good. Tell them to bring a chess-board and push up + the table.' + </p> + <p> + I sat down beside the sofa, my heart was throbbing, I did not + dare glance at Michel,... Yet from the window, across the + room, how freely I had gazed at him! + </p> + <p> + I began to set the chessmen... My fingers shook. + </p> + <p> + 'I suggested it... not for the game,'... Michel said in an + undertone, also setting the pieces, 'but to have you nearer + me.' + </p> + <p> + I made no answer, but, without asking which should begin, + moved a pawn... Michel did not move in reply... I looked at + him. His head was stretched a little forward; pale all over, + with imploring eyes he signed towards my hand... + </p> + <p> + Whether I understood him... I don't remember, but something + instantaneously whirled into my head.... Hesitating, scarcely + breathing, I took up the knight and moved it right across the + board. Michel bent down swiftly, and catching my fingers with + his lips, and pressing them against the board, he began + noiselessly and passionately kissing them.... I had no power, + I had no wish to draw them back; with my other hand I hid my + face, and tears, as I remember now, cold but blissful... oh, + what blissful tears!... dropped one by one on the table. Ah, + I knew, with my whole heart I felt at that moment, all that + he was who held my hand in his power! I knew that he was not + a boy, carried away by a momentary impulse, not a Don Juan, + not a military Lovelace, but one of the noblest, the best of + men... and he loved me! + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, my Susanna!' I heard Michel whisper, 'I will never make + you shed other tears than these.' + </p> + <p> + He was wrong... he did. + </p> + <p> + But what use is there in dwelling on such memories... + especially, especially now? + </p> + <p> + Michel and I swore to belong to each other. He knew that + Semyon Matveitch would never let him marry me, and he did not + conceal it from me. I had no doubt about it myself and I + rejoiced, not that he did not deceive me—he <i>could + not</i> deceive—but that he did not try to delude + himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have + followed where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he + repeated to me. 'I am not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is + not with Lady Rowena.' + </p> + <p> + Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going + to see him, but everything was decided between us. I was + already entirely absorbed in the future; I saw nothing of + what was passing around me, as though I were floating on a + glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist. But we + were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I + noticed my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his + loathsome laugh.... But that laugh, those eyes as it were + emerged for an instant from the mist... I shuddered, but + forgot it directly, and surrendered myself again to the + glorious, swift river... + </p> + <p> + On the day before the departure of Michel—we had + planned together that he was to turn back secretly on the way + and fetch me—I received from him through his trusted + valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him at half-past + nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched room, + built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that + he absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had + twice already met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the + key of the outer door. As soon as it struck half-past nine I + threw a warm wrap over my shoulders, stepped quietly out of + the lodge, and made my way successfully over the crackling + snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood + a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind + whistled shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver + passed over me, but I put the key into the lock, went into + the room, closed the door behind me, turned round... A dark + figure became visible against one of the walls, took a couple + of steps forward, stopped... + </p> + <p> + 'Michel,' I whispered. + </p> + <p> + 'Michel is locked up by my orders, and this is I!' answered a + voice, which seemed to rend my heart... + </p> + <p> + Before me stood Semyon Matveitch! + </p> + <p> + I was rushing to escape, but he clutched at my arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to, vile hussy?' he hissed. 'You 're quite + equal to stolen interviews with young fools, so you'll have + to be equal to the consequences.' + </p> + <p> + I was numb with horror, but still struggled towards the + door... In vain! Like iron hooks the ringers of Semyon + Matveitch held me tight. + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go, let me go,' I implored at last. + </p> + <p> + 'I tell you you shan't stir!' + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch forced me to sit down. In the half-darkness + I could not distinguish his face. I had turned away from him + too, but I heard him breathing hard and grinding his teeth. I + felt neither fear nor despair, but a sort of senseless + amazement... A captured bird, I suppose, is numb like that in + the claws of the kite... and Semyon Matveitch's hand, which + still held me as fast, crushed me like some wild, ferocious + claw.... + </p> + <p> + 'Aha!' he repeated; 'aha! So this is how it is... so it's + come to this... Ah, wait a bit!' + </p> + <p> + I tried to get up, but he shook me with such violence that I + almost shrieked with pain, and a stream of abuse, insult, and + menace burst upon me... + </p> + <p> + 'Michel, Michel, where are you? save me,' I moaned. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch shook me again... That time I could not + control myself... I screamed. + </p> + <p> + That seemed to have some effect on him. He became a little + quieter, let go my arm, but remained where he was, two steps + from me, between me and the door. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes passed... I did not stir; he breathed heavily + as before. + </p> + <p> + 'Sit still,' he began at last, 'and answer me. Let me see + that your morals are not yet utterly corrupt, and that you + are still capable of listening to the voice of reason. + Impulsive folly I can overlook, but stubborn + obstinacy—never! My son...' there was a catch in his + breath... 'Mihail Semyonitch has promised to marry you? + Hasn't he? Answer me! Has he promised, eh?' + </p> + <p> + I answered, of course, nothing. Semyon Matveitch was almost + flying into fury again. + </p> + <p> + 'I take your silence as a sign of assent,' he went on, after + a brief pause. 'And so you were plotting to be my + daughter-in-law? A pretty notion! But you're not a child of + four years old, and you must be fully aware that young + boobies are never sparing of the wildest promises, if only + they can gain their ends... but to say nothing of that, could + you suppose that I—a noble gentleman of ancient family, + Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky—would ever give my consent + to such a marriage? Or did you mean to dispense with the + parental blessing?... Did you mean to run away, get married + in secret, and then come back, go through a nice little + farce, throw yourself at my feet, in the hope that the old + man will be touched.... Answer me, damn you!' + </p> + <p> + I only bent my head. He could kill me, but to force me to + speak—that was not in his power. + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down a little. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, listen to me,' he began in a calmer voice. 'You + mustn't think... don't imagine... I see one must talk to you + in a different manner. Listen; I understand your position. + You are frightened, upset.... Pull yourself together. At this + moment I must seem to you a monster... a despot. But put + yourself in my position too; how could I help being + indignant, saying too much? And for all that I have shown you + that I am not a monster, that I too have a heart. Remember + how I treated you on my arrival here and afterwards till... + till lately... till the illness of Mihail Semyonitch. I don't + wish to boast of my beneficence, but I should have thought + simple gratitude ought to have held you back from the + slippery path on which you were determined to enter!' + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch walked to and fro again, and standing still + patted me lightly on the arm, on the very arm which still + ached from his violence, and was for long after marked with + blue bruises. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' he began again, 'we're headstrong... just a + little headstrong! We don't care to take the trouble to + think, we don't care to consider what our advantage consists + in and where we ought to seek it. You ask me: where that + advantage lies? You've no need to look far.... It's, maybe, + close at hand.... Here am I now. As a father, as head of the + family I am bound to be particular.... It's my duty. But I'm + a man at the same time, and you know that very well. + Undoubtedly I'm a practical person and of course cannot + tolerate any sentimental nonsense; expectations that are + quite inconsistent with everything, you must of course + dismiss from your mind for really what sense is there in + them?—not to speak of the immorality of such a + proceeding.... You will assuredly realise all this yourself, + when you have thought it over a little. And I say, simply and + straightforwardly, I wouldn't confine myself to what I have + done for you. I have always been prepared—and I am + still prepared—to put your welfare on a sound footing, + to guarantee you a secure position, because I know your + value, I do justice to your talents, and your intelligence, + and in fact... (here Semyon Matveitch stooped down to me a + little)... you have such eyes that, I confess... though I am + not a young man, yet to see them quite unmoved... I + understand... is not an easy matter, not at all an easy + matter.' + </p> + <p> + These words sent a chill through me. I could scarcely believe + my ears. For the first minute I fancied that Semyon Matveitch + meant to bribe me to break with Michel, to pay me + 'compensation.'... But what was he saying? My eyes had begun + to get used to the darkness and I could make out Semyon + Matveitch's face. It was smiling, that old face, and he was + walking to and fro with little steps, fidgeting restlessly + before me.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you say,' he asked at last, 'does my offer + please you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Offer?'... I repeated unconsciously,... I simply did not + understand a word. + </p> + <p> + Semyon Matveitch laughed... actually laughed his revolting + thin laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' he cried, 'you're all alike you young + women'—he corrected himself—'young ladies... + young ladies... you all dream of nothing else... you must + have young men! You can't live without love! Of course not. + Well, well! Youth's all very well! But do you suppose that + it's only young men that can love?... There are some older + men, whose hearts are warmer... and when once an old man does + take a fancy to any one, well—he's simply like a rock! + It's for ever! Not like these beardless, feather-brained + young fools! Yes, yes; you mustn't look down on old men! They + can do so much! You've only to take them the right way! + Yes... yes! And as for kissing, old men know all about that + too, he-he-he...' Semyon Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, + please... your little hand... just as a proof... that's + all....' + </p> + <p> + I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him + a blow in the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of + decrepit, scared sound, he almost fell down. There are no + words in human language to express how loathsome and + infinitely vile he seemed to me. Every vestige of fear had + left me. + </p> + <p> + 'Get away, despicable old man,' broke from my lips; 'get + away, Mr. Koltovsky, you noble gentleman of ancient family! + I, too, am of your blood, the blood of the Koltovskys, and I + curse the day and the hour when I was born of that ancient + family!' + </p> + <p> + 'What!... What are you saying!... What!' stammered Semyon + Matveitch, gasping for breath. 'You dare... at the very + minute when I've caught you... when you came to meet Misha... + eh? eh? eh?' + </p> + <p> + But I could not stop myself.... Something relentless, + desperate was roused up within me. + </p> + <p> + 'And you, you, the brother... of your brother, you had the + insolence, you dared... What did you take me for? Can you be + so blind as not to have seen long ago the loathing you arouse + in me?... You dare use the word offer!... Let me out at once, + this instant!' + </p> + <p> + I moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, indeed! oh, oh! so this is what she says!' Semyon + Matveitch piped shrilly, in a fit of violent fury, but + obviously not able to make up his mind to come near me.... + 'Wait a bit, Mr. Ratsch, Ivan Demianitch, come here!' + </p> + <p> + The door of the billiard-room opposite the one I was near + flew wide open, and my stepfather appeared, with a lighted + candelabrum in each hand. His round, red face, lighted up on + both sides, was beaming with the triumph of satisfied + revenge, and slavish delight at having rendered valuable + service.... Oh, those loathsome white eyes! when shall I + cease to behold them? + </p> + <p> + 'Be so good as to take this girl at once,' cried Semyon + Matveitch, turning to my stepfather and imperiously pointing + to me with a shaking hand. 'Be so good as to take her home + and put her under lock and key... so that she... can't stir a + finger, so that not a fly can get in to her! Till further + orders from me! Board up the windows if need be! You'll + answer for her with your head!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch set the candelabra on the billiard-table, made + Semyon Matveitch a low bow, and with a slight swagger and a + malignant smile, moved towards me. A cat, I imagine, + approaches a mouse who has no chance of escape in that way. + All my daring left me in an instant. I knew the man was + capable of... beating me. I began to tremble; yes; oh, shame! + oh ignominy! I shivered. + </p> + <p> + 'Now, then, madam,' said Mr. Ratsch, 'kindly come along.' + </p> + <p> + He took me, without haste, by the arm above the elbow.... He + saw that I should not resist. Of my own accord I pushed + forward towards the door; at that instant I had but one + thought in my mind, to escape as quickly as possible from the + presence of Semyon Matveitch. + </p> + <p> + But the loathsome old man darted up to us from behind, and + Ratsch stopped me and turned me round face to face with his + patron. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' the latter shouted, shaking his fist; 'ah! So I'm the + brother... of my brother, am I? Ties of blood! eh? But a + cousin, a first cousin you could marry? You could? eh? Take + her, you!' he turned to my stepfather. 'And remember, keep a + sharp look-out! The slightest communication with + her—and no punishment will be too severe.... Take her!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch conducted me to my room. Crossing the courtyard, + he said nothing, but kept laughing noiselessly to himself. He + closed the shutters and the doors, and then, as he was + finally returning, he bowed low to me as he had to Semyon + Matveitch, and went off into a ponderous, triumphant guffaw! + </p> + <p> + 'Good-night to your highness,' he gasped out, choking: 'she + didn't catch her fairy prince! What a pity! It wasn't a bad + idea in its way! It's a lesson for the future: not to keep up + correspondence! Ho-ho-ho! How capitally it has all turned out + though!' He went out, and all of a sudden poked his head in + at the door. 'Well? I didn't forget you, did I? Hey? I kept + my promise, didn't I? Ho-ho!' The key creaked in the lock. I + breathed freely. I had been afraid he would tie my hands... + but they were my own, they were free! I instantly wrenched + the silken cord off my dressing-gown, made a noose, and was + putting it on my neck, but I flung the cord aside again at + once. 'I won't please you!' I said aloud. 'What madness, + really! Can I dispose of my life without Michel's leave, my + life, which I have surrendered into his keeping? No, cruel + wretches! No! You have not won your game yet! He will save + me, he will tear me out of this hell, he... my Michel!' + </p> + <p> + But then I remembered that he was shut up just as I was, and + I flung myself, face downwards, on my bed, and sobbed... and + sobbed.... And only the thought that my tormentor was perhaps + at the door, listening and triumphing, only that thought + forced me to swallow my tears.... + </p> + <p> + I am worn out. I have been writing since morning, and now it + is evening; if once I tear myself from this sheet of paper, I + shall not be capable of taking up the pen again.... I must + hasten, hasten to the finish! And besides, to dwell on the + hideous things that followed that dreadful day is beyond my + strength! + </p> + <p> + Twenty-four hours later I was taken in a closed cart to an + isolated hut, surrounded by peasants, who were to watch me, + and kept shut up for six whole weeks! I was not for one + instant alone.... Later on I learnt that my stepfather had + set spies to watch both Michel and me ever since his arrival, + that he had bribed the servant, who had given me Michel's + note. I ascertained too that an awful, heart-rending scene + had taken place the next morning between the son and the + father.... The father had cursed him. Michel for his part had + sworn he would never set foot in his father's house again, + and had set off to Petersburg. But the blow aimed at me by my + stepfather rebounded upon himself. Semyon Matveitch announced + that he could not have him remaining there, and managing the + estate any longer. Awkward service, it seems, is an + unpardonable offence, and some one must be fixed upon to bear + the brunt of the <i>scandal</i>. Semyon Matveitch recompensed + Mr. Ratsch liberally, however: he gave him the necessary + means to move to Moscow and to establish himself there. + Before the departure for Moscow, I was brought back to the + lodge, but kept as before under the strictest guard. The loss + of the 'snug little berth,' of which he was being deprived + 'thanks to me,' increased my stepfather's vindictive rage + against me more than ever. + </p> + <p> + 'Why did you make such a fuss?' he would say, almost snorting + with indignation; 'upon my word! The old chap, of course, got + a little too hot, was a little too much in a hurry, and so he + made a mess of it; now, of course, his vanity's hurt, there's + no setting the mischief right again now! If you'd only waited + a day or two, it'd all have been right as a trivet; you + wouldn't have been kept on dry bread, and I should have + stayed what I was! Ah, well, women's hair is long... but + their wit is short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, + and that pretty young gentleman shall smart for it too!' + </p> + <p> + I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. + Semyon Matveitch I did not once see again. The separation + from his son had been a shock to him too. Whether he felt + remorse or—which is far more likely—wished to + bind me for ever to my home, to my family—my + family!—anyway, he assigned me a pension, which was to + be paid into my stepfather's hands, and to be given to me + till I married.... This humiliating alms, this pension I + still receive... that is to say, Mr. Ratsch receives it for + me.... + </p> + <p> + We settled in Moscow. I swear by the memory of my poor + mother, I would not have remained two days, not two hours, + with my stepfather, after once reaching the town... I would + have gone away, not knowing where... to the police; I would + have flung myself at the feet of the governor-general, of the + senators; I don't know what I would have done, if it had not + happened, at the very moment of our starting from the + country, that the girl who had been our maid managed to give + me a letter from Michel! Oh, that letter! How many times I + read over each line, how many times I covered it with kisses! + Michel besought me not to lose heart, to go on hoping, to + believe in his unchanging love; he swore that he would never + belong to any one but me; he called me his wife, he promised + to overcome all hindrances, he drew a picture of our future, + he asked of me only one thing, to be patient, to wait a + little.... + </p> + <p> + And I resolved to wait and be patient. Alas! what would I not + have agreed to, what would I not have borne, simply to do his + will! That letter became my holy thing, my guiding star, my + anchor. Sometimes when my stepfather would begin abusing and + insulting me, I would softly lay my hand on my bosom (I wore + Michel's letter sewed into an amulet) and only smile. And the + more violent and abusive was Mr. Ratsch, the easier, lighter, + and sweeter was the heart within me.... I used to see, at + last, by his eyes, that he began to wonder whether I was + going out of my mind.... Following on this first letter came + a second, still more full of hope.... It spoke of our meeting + soon. + </p> + <p> + Alas! instead of that meeting there came a morning... I can + see Mr. Ratsch coming in—and triumph again, malignant + triumph, in his face—and in his hands a page of the + <i>Invalid</i>, and there the announcement of the death of + the Captain of the Guards—Mihail Koltovsky. + </p> + <p> + What can I add? I remained alive, and went on living in Mr. + Ratsch's house. He hated me as before—more than + before—he had unmasked his black soul too much before + me, he could not pardon me that. But that was of no + consequence to me. I became, as it were, without feeling; my + own fate no longer interested me. To think of him, to think + of him! I had no interest, no joy, but that. My poor Michel + died with my name on his lips.... I was told so by a servant, + devoted to him, who had been with him when he came into the + country. The same year my stepfather married Eleonora + Karpovna. Semyon Matveitch died shortly after. In his will he + secured to me and increased the pension he had allowed me.... + In the event of my death, it was to pass to Mr. Ratsch.... + </p> + <p> + Two—three—years passed... six years, seven + years.... Life has been passing, ebbing away... while I + merely watched how it was ebbing. As in childhood, on some + river's edge one makes a little pond and dams it up, and + tries in all sorts of ways to keep the water from soaking + through, from breaking in. But at last the water breaks in, + and then you abandon all your vain efforts, and you are glad + instead to watch all that you had guarded ebbing away to the + last drop.... + </p> + <p> + So I lived, so I existed, till at last a new, unhoped-for ray + of warmth and light....' + </p> + <p> + The manuscript broke off at this word; the following leaves + had been torn off, and several lines completing the sentence + had been crossed through and blotted out. + </p> + <h3> + XVIII + </h3> + <p> + The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression + made by Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep + all night, and early in the morning I sent an express + messenger to Fustov with a letter, in which I besought him to + come to Moscow as soon as possible, as his absence might have + the most terrible results. I mentioned also my interview with + Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands. After + having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all + day, and pondered all the time on what might be happening at + the Ratsches'. I could not make up my mind to go there + myself. I could not help noticing though that my aunt was in + a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to be burnt every + minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the + traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never + succeed. The visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late + hour, had not been kept secret from her: her imagination at + once pictured a yawning abyss on the edge of which I was + standing, and she was continually sighing and moaning and + murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript + book entitled <i>Extraits de Lecture</i>. In the evening I + found on the little table at my bedside the treatise of De + Girando, laid open at the chapter: On the evil influence of + the passions. This book had been put in my room, at my aunt's + instigation of course, by the elder of her companions, who + was called in the household Amishka, from her resemblance to + a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental, not + to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the + following day was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's + coming, of a letter from him, of news from the Ratsches' + house... though on what ground could they have sent to me? + Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit her.... + But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her + without first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression + in my letter to him.... I thought it was strong enough; at + last, late in the evening, he appeared. + </p> + <h3> + XIX + </h3> + <p> + He came into my room with his habitual, rapid, but deliberate + step. His face struck me as pale, and though it showed traces + of the fatigue of the journey, there was an expression of + astonishment, curiosity, and dissatisfaction—emotions + of which he had little experience as a rule. I rushed up to + him, embraced him, warmly thanked him for obeying me, and + after briefly describing my conversation with Susanna, handed + him the manuscript. He went off to the window, to the very + window in which Susanna had sat two days before, and without + a word to me, he fell to reading it. I at once retired to the + opposite corner of the room, and for appearance' sake took up + a book; but I must own I was stealthily looking over the edge + of the cover all the while at Fustov. At first he read rather + calmly, and kept pulling with his left hand at the down on + his lip; then he let his hand drop, bent forward and did not + stir again. His eyes seemed to fly along the lines and his + mouth slightly opened. At last he finished the manuscript, + turned it over, looked round, thought a little, and began + reading it all through a second time from beginning to end. + Then he got up, put the manuscript in his pocket and moved + towards the door; but he turned round and stopped in the + middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what do you think?' I began, not waiting for him to + speak. + </p> + <p> + 'I have acted wrongly towards her,' Fustov declared thickly. + 'I have behaved... rashly, unpardonably, cruelly. I believed + that... Viktor—' + </p> + <p> + 'What!' I cried; 'that Viktor whom you despise so! But what + could he say to you?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov crossed his arms and stood obliquely to me. He was + ashamed, I saw that. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember,' he said with some effort, 'that... Viktor + alluded to... a pension. That unfortunate word stuck in my + head. It's the cause of everything. I began questioning + him.... Well, and he—' + </p> + <p> + 'What did he say?' + </p> + <p> + 'He told me that the old man... what's his name?... + Koltovsky, had allowed Susanna that pension because... on + account of... well, in fact, by way of damages.' + </p> + <p> + I flung up my hands. + </p> + <p> + 'And you believed him?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes! I believed him.... He said, too, that with the young + one... In fact, my behaviour is unjustifiable.' + </p> + <p> + 'And you went away so as to break everything off?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; that's the best way... in such cases. I acted savagely, + savagely,' he repeated. + </p> + <p> + We were both silent. Each of us felt that the other was + ashamed; but it was easier for me; I was not ashamed of + myself. + </p> + <h3> + XX + </h3> + <p> + 'I would break every bone in that Viktor's body now,' pursued + Fustov, clenching his teeth, 'if I didn't recognise that I'm + in fault. I see now what the whole trick was contrived for, + with Susanna's marriage they would lose the pension.... + Wretches!' + </p> + <p> + I took his hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander,' I asked him, 'have you been to her?' + </p> + <p> + 'No; I came straight to you on arriving. I'll go to-morrow... + early to-morrow. Things can't be left so. On no account!' + </p> + <p> + 'But you... love her, Alexander?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov seemed offended. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I love her. I am very much attached to her.' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a splendid, true-hearted girl!' I cried. + </p> + <p> + Fustov stamped impatiently. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what notion have you got in your head? I was prepared + to marry her—she's been baptized—I'm ready to + marry her even now, I'd been thinking of it, though she's + older than I am.' + </p> + <p> + At that instant I suddenly fancied that a pale woman's figure + was seated in the window, leaning on her arms. The lights had + burnt down; it was dark in the room. I shivered, looked more + intently, and saw nothing, of course, in the window seat; but + a strange feeling, a mixture of horror, anguish and pity, + came over me. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander!' I began with sudden intensity, 'I beg you, I + implore you, go at once to the Ratsches', don't put it off + till to-morrow! An inner voice tells me that you really ought + to see Susanna to-day!' + </p> + <p> + Fustov shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you talking about, really! It's eleven o'clock now, + most likely they're all in bed.' + </p> + <p> + 'No matter.... Do go, for goodness' sake! I have a + presentiment.... Please do as I say! Go at once, take a + sledge....' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, what nonsense!' Fustov responded coolly; 'how could I + go now? To-morrow morning I will be there, and everything + will be cleared up.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Alexander, remember, she said that she was dying, that + you would not find her... And if you had seen her face! Only + think, imagine, to make up her mind to come to me... what it + must have cost her....' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a little high-flown,' observed Fustov, who had + apparently regained his self-possession completely. 'All + girls are like that... at first. I repeat, everything will be + all right to-morrow. Meanwhile, good-bye. I'm tired, and + you're sleepy too.' + </p> + <p> + He took his cap, and went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'But you promise to come here at once, and tell me all about + it?' I called after him. + </p> + <p> + 'I promise.... Good-bye!' + </p> + <p> + I went to bed, but in my heart I was uneasy, and I felt vexed + with my friend. I fell asleep late and dreamed that I was + wandering with Susanna along underground, damp passages of + some sort, and crawling along narrow, steep staircases, and + continually going deeper and deeper down, though we were + trying to get higher up out into the air. Some one was all + the while incessantly calling us in monotonous, plaintive + tones. + </p> + <h3> + XXI + </h3> + <p> + Some one's hand lay on my shoulder and pushed it several + times.... I opened my eyes and in the faint light of the + solitary candle, I saw Fustov standing before me. He + frightened me. He was staggering; his face was yellow, almost + the same colour as his hair; his lips seemed hanging down, + his muddy eyes were staring senselessly away. What had become + of his invariably amiable, sympathetic expression? I had a + cousin who from epilepsy was sinking into idiocy.... Fustov + looked like him at that moment. + </p> + <p> + I sat up hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it? What is the matter? Heavens!' + </p> + <p> + He made no answer. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what has happened? Fustov! Do speak! Susanna?...' + </p> + <p> + Fustov gave a slight start. + </p> + <p> + 'She...' he began in a hoarse voice, and broke off. + </p> + <p> + 'What of her? Have you seen her?' + </p> + <p> + He stared at me. + </p> + <p> + 'She's no more.' + </p> + <p> + 'No more?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. She is dead.' + </p> + <p> + I jumped out of bed. + </p> + <p> + 'Dead? Susanna? Dead?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov turned his eyes away again. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; she is dead; she died at midnight.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's raving!' crossed my mind. + </p> + <p> + 'At midnight! And what's the time now?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's eight o'clock in the morning now. + </p> + <p> + They sent to tell me. She is to be buried to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + I seized him by the hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Alexander, you're not delirious? Are you in your senses?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am in my senses,' he answered. 'Directly I heard it, I + came straight to you.' + </p> + <p> + My heart turned sick and numb, as always happens on realising + an irrevocable misfortune. + </p> + <p> + 'My God! my God! Dead!' I repeated. 'How is it possible? So + suddenly! Or perhaps she took her own life?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know,' said Fustov, 'I know nothing. They told me + she died at midnight. And to-morrow she will be buried.' + </p> + <p> + 'At midnight!' I thought.... 'Then she was still alive + yesterday when I fancied I saw her in the window, when I + entreated him to hasten to her....' + </p> + <p> + 'She was still alive yesterday, when you wanted to send me to + Ivan Demianitch's,' said Fustov, as though guessing my + thought. + </p> + <p> + 'How little he knew her!' I thought again. 'How little we + both knew her! "High-flown," said he, "all girls are like + that."... And at that very minute, perhaps, she was putting + to her lips... Can one love any one and be so grossly + mistaken in them?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov stood stockstill before my bed, his hands hanging, + like a guilty man. + </p> + <h3> + XXII + </h3> + <p> + I dressed hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean to do now, Alexander?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + He gazed at me in bewilderment, as though marvelling at the + absurdity of my question. And indeed what was there to do? + </p> + <p> + 'You simply must go to them, though,' I began. 'You're bound + to ascertain how it happened; there is, possibly, a crime + concealed. One may expect anything of those people.... It is + all to be thoroughly investigated. Remember the statement in + her manuscript, the pension was to cease on her marriage, but + in event of her death it was to pass to Ratsch. In any case, + one must render her the last duty, pay homage to her + remains!' + </p> + <p> + I talked to Fustov like a preceptor, like an elder brother. + In the midst of all that horror, grief, bewilderment, a sort + of unconscious feeling of superiority over Fustov had + suddenly come to the surface in me.... Whether from seeing + him crushed by the consciousness of his fault, distracted, + shattered, whether that a misfortune befalling a man almost + always humiliates him, lowers him in the opinion of others, + 'you can't be much,' is felt, 'if you hadn't the wit to come + off better than that!' God knows! Any way, Fustov seemed to + me almost like a child, and I felt pity for him, and saw the + necessity of severity. I held out a helping hand to him, + stooping down to him from above. Only a woman's sympathy is + free from condescension. + </p> + <p> + But Fustov continued to gaze with wild and stupid eyes at + me—my authoritative tone obviously had no effect on + him, and to my second question, 'You're going to them, I + suppose?' he replied— + </p> + <p> + 'No, I'm not going.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean, really? Don't you want to ascertain for + yourself, to investigate, how, and what? Perhaps, she has + left a letter... a document of some sort....' + </p> + <p> + Fustov shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't go there,' he said. 'That's what I came to you for, + to ask you to go... for me... I can't... I can't....' + </p> + <p> + Fustov suddenly sat down to the table, hid his face in both + hands, and sobbed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + 'Alas, alas!' he kept repeating through his tears; 'alas, + poor girl... poor girl... I loved... I loved her... alas!' + </p> + <p> + I stood near him, and I am bound to confess, not the + slightest sympathy was excited in me by those incontestably + sincere sobs. I simply marvelled that Fustov could cry + <i>like that</i>, and it seemed to me that <i>now</i> I knew + what a small person he was, and that I should, in his place, + have acted quite differently. What's one to make of it? If + Fustov had remained quite unmoved, I should perhaps have + hated him, have conceived an aversion for him, but he would + not have sunk in my esteem.... He would have kept his + prestige. Don Juan would have remained Don Juan! Very late in + life, and only after many experiences, does a man learn, at + the sight of a fellow-creature's real failing or weakness, to + sympathise with him, and help him without a secret + self-congratulation at his own virtue and strength, but on + the contrary, with every humility and comprehension of the + naturalness, almost the inevitableness, of sin. + </p> + <h3> + XXIII + </h3> + <p> + I was very bold and resolute in sending Fustov to the + Ratsches'; but when I set out there myself at twelve o'clock + (nothing would induce Fustov to go with me, he only begged me + to give him an exact account of everything), when round the + corner of the street their house glared at me in the distance + with a yellowish blur from the coffin candles at one of the + windows, an indescribable panic made me hold my breath, and I + would gladly have turned back.... I mastered myself, however, + and went into the passage. It smelt of incense and wax; the + pink cover of the coffin, edged with silver lace, stood in a + corner, leaning against the wall. In one of the adjoining + rooms, the dining-room, the monotonous muttering of the + deacon droned like the buzzing of a bee. From the + drawing-room peeped out the sleepy face of a servant girl, + who murmured in a subdued voice, 'Come to do homage to the + dead?' She indicated the door of the dining-room. I went in. + The coffin stood with the head towards the door; the black + hair of Susanna under the white wreath, above the raised lace + of the pillow, first caught my eyes. I went up sidewards, + crossed myself, bowed down to the ground, glanced... Merciful + God! what a face of agony! Unhappy girl! even death had no + pity on her, had denied her—beauty, that would be + little—even that peace, that tender and impressive + peace which is often seen on the faces of the newly dead. The + little, dark, almost brown, face of Susanna recalled the + visages on old, old holy pictures. And the expression on that + face! It looked as though she were on the point of + shrieking—a shriek of despair—and had died so, + uttering no sound... even the line between the brows was not + smoothed out, and the fingers on the hands were bent back and + clenched. I turned away my eyes involuntarily; but, after a + brief interval, I forced myself to look, to look long and + attentively at her. Pity filled my soul, and not pity alone. + 'That girl died by violence,' I decided inwardly; 'that's + beyond doubt.' While I was standing looking at the dead girl, + the deacon, who on my entrance had raised his voice and + uttered a few disconnected sounds, relapsed into droning + again, and yawned twice. I bowed to the ground a second time, + and went out into the passage. + </p> + <p> + In the doorway of the drawing-room Mr. Ratsch was already on + the look-out for me, dressed in a gay-coloured dressing-gown. + Beckoning to me with his hand, he led me to his own + room—I had almost said, to his lair. The room, dark and + close, soaked through and through with the sour smell of + stale tobacco, suggested a comparison with the lair of a wolf + or a fox. + </p> + <h3> + XXIV + </h3> + <p> + 'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external + covering.... You understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' + said Mr. Ratsch, directly the door closed. 'Such a + misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was nothing to + notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over! + It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; + it's what was to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov + the regimental doctor, Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... + you've probably heard of him... a first-rate medical man, a + specialist—' + </p> + <p> + 'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, + at first in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to + my surprise, with a perceptible German accent, 'he was always + warning me: "Ay, Ivan Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must + be careful! Your stepdaughter has an organic defect in the + heart—hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing and + there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions + above all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my + word, with a young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... + ha... ha...' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, + but he recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient + guffaw into a cough. + </p> + <p> + And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found + out about him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him + whether a doctor was called in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air. + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was + already over—abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though + they were agreeing' (Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though + they had agreed), 'rupture! rupture of the heart! That's + what, with one voice, they cried out. They proposed a + post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to + that.' + </p> + <p> + 'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The + procession will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock + in the morning.... From here to the church of St. Nicholas on + Hen's Legs... what strange names your Russian churches do + have, you know! Then to the last resting-place in mother + earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I + make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the + elevation of your sentiments!...' + </p> + <p> + I made haste to nod my head. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes, yes,' sighed Mr. Ratsch. 'It... it really has + been, as they say, a thunderbolt from a clear sky! Ein Blitz + aus heiterem Himmel!' + </p> + <p> + 'And Susanna Ivanovna said nothing before her death, left + nothing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing, positively! Not a scrap of anything! Not a bit of + paper! Only fancy, when they called me to her, when they + waked me up—she was stiff already! Very distressing it + was for me; she has grieved us all terribly! Alexander + Daviditch will be sorry too, I dare say, when he knows.... + They say he is not in Moscow.' + </p> + <p> + 'He did leave town for a few days...' I began. + </p> + <p> + 'Viktor Ivanovitch is complaining they're so long getting his + sledge harnessed,' interrupted a servant girl coming + in—the same girl I had seen in the passage. Her face, + still looking half-awake, struck me this time by the + expression of coarse insolence to be seen in servants when + they know that their masters are in their power, and that + they do not dare to find fault or be exacting with them. + </p> + <p> + 'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch responded nervously. + 'Eleonora Karpovna! Leonora! Lenchen! come here!' + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of something ponderous moving the other + side of the door, and at the same instant I heard Viktor's + imperious call: 'Why on earth don't they put the horses in? + You don't catch me trudging off to the police on foot!' + </p> + <p> + 'Directly, directly,' Ivan Demianitch faltered again. + 'Eleonora Karpovna, come here!' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Ivan Demianitch,' I heard her voice, 'ich habe keine + Toilette gemacht!' + </p> + <p> + 'Macht nichts. Komm herein!' + </p> + <p> + Eleonora Karpovna came in, holding a kerchief over her neck + with two fingers. She had on a morning wrapper, not buttoned + up, and had not yet done her hair. Ivan Demianitch flew up to + her. + </p> + <p> + 'You hear, Viktor's calling for the horses,' he said, + hurriedly pointing his finger first to the door, then to the + window. 'Please, do see to it, as quick as possible! Der Kerl + schreit so!' + </p> + <p> + 'Der Viktor schreit immer, Ivan Demianitch, Sie wissen wohl,' + responded Eleonora Karpovna, 'and I have spoken to the + coachman myself, but he's taken it into his head to give the + horses oats. Fancy, what a calamity to happen so suddenly,' + she added, turning to me; 'who could have expected such a + thing of Susanna Ivanovna?' + </p> + <p> + 'I was always expecting it, always!' cried Ratsch, and threw + up his arms, his dressing-gown flying up in front as he did + so, and displaying most repulsive unmentionables of chamois + leather, with buckles on the belt. 'Rupture of the heart! + rupture of the external membrane! Hypertrophy!' + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure,' Eleonora Karpovna repeated after him, 'hyper... + Well, so it is. Only it's a terrible, terrible grief to me, I + say again...' And her coarse-featured face worked a little, + her eyebrows rose into the shape of triangles, and a tiny + tear rolled over her round cheek, that looked varnished like + a doll's.... 'I'm very sorry that such a young person who + ought to have lived and enjoyed everything... everything... + And to fall into despair so suddenly!' + </p> + <p> + 'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte!' Mr. Ratsch cut her short. + </p> + <p> + 'Geh' schon, geh' schon,' muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she + went away, still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and + shedding tears. + </p> + <p> + And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a + student's coat with a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily + on one side. He barely glanced at me over his shoulder, shook + his collar up, and did not nod to me, for which I mentally + thanked him. + </p> + <p> + I went back to Fustov. + </p> + <h3> + XXV + </h3> + <p> + I found my friend sitting in a corner of his room with + downcast head and arms folded across his breast. He had sunk + into a state of numbness, and he gazed around him with the + slow, bewildered look of a man who has slept very heavily and + has only just been waked. I told him all about my visit to + Ratsch's, repeated the veteran's remarks and those of his + wife, described the impression they had made on me and + informed him of my conviction that the unhappy girl had taken + her own life.... Fustov listened to me with no change of + expression, and looked about him with the same bewildered + air. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you see her?' he asked me at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the coffin?' + </p> + <p> + Fustov seemed to doubt whether Susanna were really dead. + </p> + <p> + 'In the coffin.' + </p> + <p> + Fustov's face twitched and he dropped his eyes and softly + rubbed his hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you cold?' I asked him. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, old man, I'm cold,' he answered hesitatingly, and he + shook his head stupidly. + </p> + <p> + I began to explain my reasons for thinking that Susanna had + poisoned herself or perhaps had been poisoned, and that the + matter could not be left so.... + </p> + <p> + Fustov stared at me. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what is there to be done?' he said, slowly opening his + eyes wide and slowly closing them. 'Why, it'll be worse... if + it's known about. They won't bury her. We must let things... + alone.' + </p> + <p> + This idea, simple as it was, had never entered my head. My + friend's practical sense had not deserted him. + </p> + <p> + 'When is... her funeral?' he went on. + </p> + <p> + 'To-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'Are you going?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'To the house or straight to the church?' + </p> + <p> + 'To the house and to the church too; and from there to the + cemetery.' + </p> + <p> + 'But I shan't go... I can't, I can't!' whispered Fustov and + began crying. It was at these same words that he had broken + into sobs in the morning. I have noticed that it is often so + with weeping; as though to certain words, for the most of no + great meaning,—but just to these words and to no + others—it is given to open the fount of tears in a man, + to break him down, and to excite in him the feeling of pity + for others and himself... I remember a peasant woman was once + describing before me the sudden death of her daughter, and + she fairly dissolved and could not go on with her tale as + soon as she uttered the phrase, 'I said to her, Fekla. And + she says, "Mother, where have you put the salt... the salt... + sa-alt?"' The word 'salt' overpowered her. + </p> + <p> + But again, as in the morning, I was but little moved by + Fustov's tears. I could not conceive how it was he did not + ask me if Susanna had not left something for him. Altogether + their love for one another was a riddle to me; and a riddle + it remained to me. + </p> + <p> + After weeping for ten minutes Fustov got up, lay down on the + sofa, turned his face to the wall, and remained motionless. I + waited a little, but seeing that he did not stir, and made no + answer to my questions, I made up my mind to leave him. I am + perhaps doing him injustice, but I almost believe he was + asleep. Though indeed that would be no proof that he did not + feel sorrow... only his nature was so constituted as to be + unable to support painful emotions for long... His nature was + too awfully well-balanced! + </p> + <h3> + XXVI + </h3> + <p> + The next day exactly at eleven o'clock I was at the place. + Fine hail was falling from the low-hanging sky, there was a + slight frost, a thaw was close at hand, but there were + cutting, disagreeable gusts of wind flitting across in the + air.... It was the most thoroughly Lenten, cold-catching + weather. I found Mr. Ratsch on the steps of his house. In a + black frock-coat adorned with crape, with no hat on his head, + he fussed about, waved his arms, smote himself on the thighs, + shouted up to the house, and then down into the street, in + the direction of the funeral car with a white catafalque, + already standing there with two hired carriages. Near it four + garrison soldiers, with mourning capes over their old coats, + and mourning hats pulled over their screwed-up eyes, were + pensively scratching in the crumbling snow with the long + stems of their unlighted torches. The grey shock of hair + positively stood up straight above the red face of Mr. + Ratsch, and his voice, that brazen voice, was cracking from + the strain he was putting on it. 'Where are the pine + branches? pine branches! this way! the branches of pine!' he + yelled. 'They'll be bearing out the coffin directly! The + pine! Hand over those pine branches! Look alive!' he cried + once more, and dashed into the house. It appeared that in + spite of my punctuality, I was late: Mr. Ratsch had thought + fit to hurry things forward. The service in the house was + already over; the priests—of whom one wore a calotte, + and the other, rather younger, had most carefully combed and + oiled his hair—appeared with all their retinue on the + steps. The coffin too appeared soon after, carried by a + coachman, two door-keepers, and a water-carrier. Mr. Ratsch + walked behind, with the tips of his fingers on the coffin + lid, continually repeating, 'Easy, easy!' Behind him waddled + Eleonora Karpovna in a black dress, also adorned with crape, + surrounded by her whole family; after all of them, Viktor + stepped out in a new uniform with a sword with crape round + the handle. The coffin-bearers, grumbling and altercating + among themselves, laid the coffin on the hearse; the garrison + soldiers lighted their torches, which at once began crackling + and smoking; a stray old woman, who had joined herself on to + the party, raised a wail; the deacons began to chant, the + fine snow suddenly fell faster and whirled round like 'white + flies.' Mr. Ratsch bawled, 'In God's name! start!' and the + procession started. Besides Mr. Ratsch's family, there were + in all five men accompanying the hearse: a retired and + extremely shabby officer of roads and highways, with a faded + Stanislas ribbon—not improbably hired—on his + neck; the police superintendent's assistant, a diminutive man + with a meek face and greedy eyes; a little old man in a + fustian smock; an extremely fat fishmonger in a tradesman's + bluejacket, smelling strongly of his calling, and I. The + absence of the female sex (for one could hardly count as such + two aunts of Eleonora Karpovna, sisters of the sausagemaker, + and a hunchback old maiden lady with blue spectacles on her + blue nose), the absence of girl friends and acquaintances + struck me at first; but on thinking it over I realised that + Susanna, with her character, her education, her memories, + could not have made friends in the circle in which she was + living. In the church there were a good many people + assembled, more outsiders than acquaintances, as one could + see by the expression of their faces. The service did not + last long. What surprised me was that Mr. Ratsch crossed + himself with great fervour, quite as though he were of the + orthodox faith, and even chimed in with the deacons in the + responses, though only with the notes not with the words. + When at last it came to taking leave of the dead, I bowed + low, but did not give the last kiss. Mr. Ratsch, on the + contrary, went through this terrible ordeal with the utmost + composure, and with a deferential inclination of his person + invited the officer of the Stanislas ribbon to the coffin, as + though offering him entertainment, and picking his children + up under the arms swung them up in turn and held them up to + the body. Eleonora Karpovna, on taking farewell of Susanna, + suddenly broke into a roar that filled the church; but she + was soon soothed and continually asked in an exasperated + whisper, 'But where's my reticule?' Viktor held himself + aloof, and seemed to be trying by his whole demeanour to + convey that he was out of sympathy with all such customs and + was only performing a social duty. The person who showed the + most sympathy was the little old man in the smock, who had + been, fifteen years before, a land surveyor in the Tambov + province, and had not seen Ratsch since then. He did not know + Susanna at all, but had drunk a couple of glasses of spirits + at the sideboard before starting. My aunt had also come to + the church. She had somehow or other found out that the + deceased woman was the very lady who had paid me a visit, and + had been thrown into a state of indescribable agitation! She + could not bring herself to suspect me of any sort of + misconduct, but neither could she explain such a strange + chain of circumstances.... Not improbably she imagined that + Susanna had been led by love for me to commit suicide, and + attired in her darkest garments, with an aching heart and + tears, she prayed on her knees for the peace of the soul of + the departed, and put a rouble candle before the picture of + the Consolation of Sorrow.... 'Amishka' had come with her + too, and she too prayed, but was for the most part gazing at + me, horror-stricken.... That elderly spinster, alas! did not + regard me with indifference. On leaving the church, my aunt + distributed all her money, more than ten roubles, among the + poor. + </p> + <p> + At last the farewell was over. They began closing the coffin. + During the whole service I had not courage to look straight + at the poor girl's distorted face; but every time that my + eyes passed by it—'he did not come, he did not come,' + it seemed to me that it wanted to say. They were just going + to lower the lid upon the coffin. I could not restrain + myself: I turned a rapid glance on to the dead woman. 'Why + did you do it?' I was unconsciously asking.... 'He did not + come!' I fancied for the last time.... The hammer was + knocking in the nails, and all was over. + </p> + <h3> + XXVII + </h3> + <p> + We followed the hearse towards the cemetery. We were forty in + number, of all sorts and conditions, nothing else really than + an idle crowd. The wearisome journey lasted more than an + hour. The weather became worse and worse. Halfway there + Viktor got into a carriage, but Mr. Ratsch stepped gallantly + on through the sloppy snow; just so must he have stepped + through the snow when, after the fateful interview with + Semyon Matveitch, he led home with him in triumph the girl + whose life he had ruined for ever. The 'veteran's' hair and + eyebrows were edged with snow; he kept blowing and uttering + exclamations, or manfully drawing deep breaths and puffing + out his round, dark-red cheeks.... One really might have + thought he was laughing. 'On my death the pension was to pass + to Ivan Demianitch'; these words from Susanna's manuscript + recurred again to my mind. We reached the cemetery at last; + we moved up to a freshly dug grave. The last ceremony was + quickly performed; all were chilled through, all were in + haste. The coffin slid on cords into the yawning hole; they + began to throw earth on it. Mr. Ratsch here too showed the + energy of his spirit, so rapidly, with such force and vigour, + did he fling clods of earth on to the coffin lid, throwing + himself into an heroic pose, with one leg planted firmly + before him... he could not have shown more energy if he had + been stoning his bitterest foe. Viktor, as before, held + himself aloof; he kept muffling himself up in his coat, and + rubbing his chin in the fur of his collar. Mr. Ratsch's other + children eagerly imitated their father. Flinging sand and + earth was a source of great enjoyment to them, for which, of + course, they were in no way to blame. A mound began to rise + up where the hole had been; we were on the point of + separating, when Mr. Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in + soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, + announced to all of us 'gentlemen present,' that he invited + us, and also the 'reverend clergy,' to a 'funeral banquet,' + which had been arranged at no great distance from the + cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior + restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured + friend Sigismund Sigismundovitch.'... At these words he + indicated the assistant of the police superintendent, and + added that for all his grief and his Lutheran faith, he, Ivan + Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old Russian + usages before everything. 'My spouse,' he cried, 'with the + ladies that have accompanied her, may go home, while we + gentlemen commemorate in a modest repast the shade of Thy + departed servant!' Mr. Ratsch's proposal was received with + genuine sympathy; 'the reverend clergy' exchanged expressive + glances with one another, while the officer of roads and + highways slapped Ivan Demianitch on the shoulder, and called + him a patriot and the soul of the company. + </p> + <p> + We set off all together to the restaurant. In the restaurant, + in the middle of a long, wide, and quite empty room on the + first storey, stood two tables laid for dinner, covered with + bottles and eatables, and surrounded by chairs. The smell of + whitewash, mingled with the odours of spirits and salad oil, + was stifling and oppressive. The police superintendent's + assistant, as the organiser of the banquet, placed the clergy + in the seats of honour, near which the Lenten dishes were + crowded together conspicuously; after the priests the other + guests took their seats; the banquet began. I would not have + used such a festive word as banquet by choice, but no other + word would have corresponded with the real character of the + thing. At first the proceedings were fairly quiet, even + slightly mournful; jaws munched busily, and glasses were + emptied, but sighs too were audible—possibly sighs of + digestion, but possibly also of feeling. There were + references to death, allusions to the brevity of human life, + and the fleeting nature of earthly hopes. The officer of + roads and highways related a military but still edifying + anecdote. The priest in the calotte expressed his approval, + and himself contributed an interesting fact from the life of + the saint, Ivan the Warrior. The priest with the superbly + arranged hair, though his attention was chiefly engrossed by + the edibles, gave utterance to something improving on the + subject of chastity. But little by little all this changed. + Faces grew redder, and voices grew louder, and laughter + reasserted itself; one began to hear disconnected + exclamations, caressing appellations, after the manner of + 'dear old boy,' 'dear heart alive,' 'old cock,' and even 'a + pig like that'—everything, in fact, of which the + Russian nature is so lavish, when, as they say, 'it comes + unbuttoned.' By the time that the corks of home-made + champagne were popping, the party had become noisy; some one + even crowed like a cock, while another guest was offering to + bite up and swallow the glass out of which he had just been + drinking. Mr. Ratsch, no longer red but purple, suddenly rose + from his seat; he had been guffawing and making a great noise + before, but now he asked leave to make a speech. 'Speak! Out + with it!' every one roared; the old man in the smock even + bawled 'bravo!' and clapped his hands... but he was already + sitting on the floor. Mr. Ratsch lifted his glass high above + his head, and announced that he proposed in brief but + 'impressionable' phrases to refer to the qualities of the + noble soul which,'leaving here, so to say, its earthly husk + (die irdische Hülle) has soared to heaven, and + plunged...' Mr. Ratsch corrected himself: 'and plashed....' + He again corrected himself: 'and plunged...' + </p> + <p> + 'Father deacon! Reverend sir! My good soul!' we heard a + subdued but insistent whisper, 'they say you've a devilish + good voice; honour us with a song, strike up: "We live among + the fields!"' + </p> + <p> + 'Sh! sh!... Shut up there!' passed over the lips of the + guests. + </p> + <p> + ...'Plunged all her devoted family,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, + turning a severe glance in the direction of the lover of + music, 'plunged all her family into the most irreplaceable + grief! Yes!' cried Ivan Demianitch, 'well may the Russian + proverb say, "Fate spares not the rod."...' + </p> + <p> + 'Stop! Gentlemen!' shouted a hoarse voice at the end of the + table, 'my purse has just been stolen!...' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, the swindler!' piped another voice, and slap! went a box + on the ear. + </p> + <p> + Heavens! What followed then! It was as though the wild beast, + till then only growling and faintly stirring within us, had + suddenly broken from its chains and reared up, ruffled and + fierce in all its hideousness. It seemed as though every one + had been secretly expecting 'a scandal,' as the natural + outcome and sequel of a banquet, and all, as it were, rushed + to welcome it, to support it.... Plates, glasses clattered + and rolled about, chairs were upset, a deafening din arose, + hands were waving in the air, coat-tails were flying, and a + fight began in earnest. + </p> + <p> + 'Give it him! give it him!' roared like mad my neighbour, the + fishmonger, who had till that instant seemed to be the most + peaceable person in the world; it is true he had been + silently drinking some dozen glasses of spirits. 'Thrash + him!...' + </p> + <p> + Who was to be thrashed, and what he was to be thrashed for, + he had no idea, but he bellowed furiously. + </p> + <p> + The police superintendent's assistant, the officer of roads + and highways, and Mr. Ratsch, who had probably not expected + such a speedy termination to his eloquence, tried to restore + order... but their efforts were unavailing. My neighbour, the + fishmonger, even fell foul of Mr. Ratsch himself. + </p> + <p> + 'He's murdered the young woman, the blasted German,' he + yelled at him, shaking his fists; 'he's bought over the + police, and here he's crowing over it!!' + </p> + <p> + At this point the waiters ran in.... What happened further I + don't know; I snatched up my cap in all haste, and made off + as fast as my legs would carry me! All I remember is a + fearful crash; I recall, too, the remains of a herring in the + hair of the old man in the smock, a priest's hat flying right + across the room, the pale face of Viktor huddled up in a + corner, and a red beard in the grasp of a muscular hand.... + Such were the last impressions I carried away of the + 'memorial banquet,' arranged by the excellent Sigismund + Sigismundovitch in honour of poor Susanna. + </p> + <p> + After resting a little, I set off to see Fustov, and told him + all of which I had been a witness during that day. He + listened to me, sitting still, and not raising his head, and + putting both hands under his legs, he murmured again, 'Ah! my + poor girl, my poor girl!' and again lay down on the sofa and + turned his back on me. + </p> + <p> + A week later he seemed to have quite got over it, and took up + his life as before. I asked him for Susanna's manuscript as a + keepsake: he gave it me without raising any objection. + </p> + <h3> + XXVIII + </h3> + <p> + Several years passed by. My aunt was dead; I had left Moscow + and settled in Petersburg. Fustov too had moved to + Petersburg. He had entered the department of the Ministry of + Finance, but we rarely met and I saw nothing much in him + then. An official like every one else, and nothing more! If + he is still living and not married, he is, most likely, + unchanged to this day; he carves and carpenters and uses + dumb-bells, and is as much a lady-killer as ever, and + sketches Napoleon in a blue uniform in the albums of his lady + friends. It happened that I had to go to Moscow on business. + In Moscow I learned, with considerable surprise, that the + fortunes of my former acquaintance, Mr. Ratsch, had taken an + adverse turn. His wife had, indeed, presented him with twins, + two boys, whom as a true Russian he had christened + Briacheslav and Viacheslav, but his house had been burnt + down, he had been forced to retire from his position, and + worst of all, his eldest son, Viktor, had become practically + a permanent inmate of the debtors' prison. During my stay in + Moscow, among a company at a friendly gathering, I chanced to + hear an allusion made to Susanna, and a most slighting, most + insulting allusion! I did all I could to defend the memory of + the unhappy girl, to whom fate had denied even the charity of + oblivion, but my arguments did not make much impression on my + audience. One of them, a young student poet, was, however, a + little moved by my words. He sent me next day a poem, which I + have forgotten, but which ended in the following four lines: + </p> + <pre> + 'Her tomb lies cold, forlorn, but even death + Her gentle spirit's memory cannot save + From the sly voice of slander whispering on, + Withering the flowers on her forsaken tomb....' +</pre> + <p> + I read these lines and unconsciously sank into musing. + Susanna's image rose before me; once more I seemed to see the + frozen window in my room; I recalled that evening and the + blustering snowstorm, and those words, those sobs.... I began + to ponder how it was possible to explain Susanna's love for + Fustov, and why she had so quickly, so impulsively given way + to despair, as soon as she saw herself forsaken. How was it + she had had no desire to wait a little, to hear the bitter + truth from the lips of the man she loved, to write to him, + even? How could she fling herself at once headlong into the + abyss? Because she was passionately in love with Fustov, I + shall be told; because she could not bear the slightest doubt + of his devotion, of his respect for her. Perhaps; or perhaps + because she was not at all so passionately in love with + Fustov; that she did not deceive herself about him, but + simply rested her last hopes on him, and could not get over + the thought that even this man had at once, at the first + breath of slander, turned away from her with contempt! Who + can say what killed her; wounded pride, or the wretchedness + of her helpless position, or the very memory of that first, + noble, true-hearted nature to whom she had so joyfully + pledged herself in the morning of her early days, who had so + deeply trusted her, and so honoured her? Who knows; perhaps + at the very instant when I fancied that her dead lips were + murmuring, 'he did not come!' her soul was rejoicing that she + had gone herself to him, to her Michel? The secrets of human + life are great, and love itself, the most impenetrable of + those secrets.... Anyway, to this day, whenever the image of + Susanna rises before me, I cannot overcome a feeling of pity + for her, and of angry reproach against fate, and my lips + whisper instinctively, 'Unhappy girl! unhappy girl!' + </p> + <p> + 1868. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="3"></a> + <h2> + THE DUELLIST + </h2> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + A regiment of cuirassiers was quartered in 1829 in the + village of Kirilovo, in the K—- province. That village, + with its huts and hay-stacks, its green hemp-patches, and + gaunt willows, looked from a distance like an island in a + boundless sea of ploughed, black-earth fields. In the middle + of the village was a small pond, invariably covered with + goose feathers, with muddy, indented banks; a hundred paces + from the pond, on the other side of the road, rose the wooden + manor-house, long, empty, and mournfully slanting on one + side. Behind the house stretched the deserted garden; in the + garden grew old apple-trees that bore no fruit, and tall + birch-trees, full of rooks' nests. At the end of the + principal garden-walk, in a little house, once the + bath-house, lived a decrepit old steward. Every morning, + gasping and groaning, he would, from years of habit, drag + himself across the garden to the seignorial apartments, + though there was nothing to take care of in them except a + dozen white arm-chairs, upholstered in faded stuff, two podgy + chests on carved legs with copper handles, four pictures with + holes in them, and one black alabaster Arab with a broken + nose. The owner of the house, a careless young man, lived + partly at Petersburg, partly abroad, and had completely + forgotten his estate. It had come to him eight years before, + from a very old uncle, once noted all over the countryside + for his excellent liqueurs. The empty, dark-green bottles are + to this day lying about in the storeroom, in company with + rubbish of all sorts, old manuscript books in parti-coloured + covers, scantily filled with writing, old-fashioned glass + lustres, a nobleman's uniform of the Catherine period, a + rusty sabre with a steel handle and so forth. In one of the + lodges of the great house the colonel himself took up his + abode. He was a married man, tall, sparing of his words, grim + and sleepy. In another lodge lived the regimental adjutant, + an emotional person of fine sentiments and many perfumes, + fond of flowers and female society. The social life of the + officers of this regiment did not differ from any other kind + of society. Among their number were good people and bad, + clever and silly.... One of them, a certain Avdey Ivanovitch + Lutchkov, staff captain, had a reputation as a duellist. + Lutchkov was a short and not thick-set man; he had a small, + yellowish, dry face, lank, black hair, unnoticeable features, + and dark, little eyes. He had early been left an orphan, and + had grown up among privations and hardships. For weeks + together he would be quiet enough,... and then all at + once—as though he were possessed by some devil—he + would let no one alone, annoying everybody, staring every one + insolently in the face; trying, in fact, to pick a quarrel. + Avdey Ivanovitch did not, however, hold aloof from + intercourse with his comrades, but he was not on intimate + terms with any one but the perfumed adjutant. He did not play + cards, and did not drink spirits. + </p> + <p> + In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the + manoeuvres, there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor + Fedorovitch Kister, a Russian nobleman of German extraction, + very fair-haired and very modest, cultivated and well read. + He had lived up to his twentieth year in the home of his + fathers, under the wings of his mother, his grandmother, and + his two aunts. He was going into the army in deference solely + to the wishes of his grandmother, who even in her old age + could not see a white plumed helmet without emotion.... He + served with no special enthusiasm but with energy, as it were + conscientiously doing his duty. He was not a dandy, but was + always cleanly dressed and in good taste. On the day of his + arrival Fyodor Fedoritch paid his respects to his superior + officers, and then proceeded to arrange his quarters. He had + brought with him some cheap furniture, rugs, shelves, and so + forth. He papered all the walls and the doors, put up some + screens, had the yard cleaned, fixed up a stable, and a + kitchen, even arranged a place for a bath.... For a whole + week he was busily at work; but it was a pleasure afterwards + to go into his room. Before the window stood a neat table, + covered with various little things; in one corner was a set + of shelves for books, with busts of Schiller and Goethe; on + the walls hung maps, four Grevedon heads, and guns; near the + table was an elegant row of pipes with clean mouthpieces; + there was a rug in the outer room; all the doors shut and + locked; the windows were hung with curtains. Everything in + Fyodor Fedoritch's room had a look of cleanliness and order. + </p> + <p> + It was quite a different thing in his comrades' quarters. + Often one could scarcely make one's way across the muddy + yard; in the outer room, behind a canvas screen, with its + covering peeling off it, would lie stretched the snoring + orderly; on the floor rotten straw; on the stove, boots and a + broken jam-pot full of blacking; in the room itself a warped + card-table, marked with chalk; on the table, glasses, + half-full of cold, dark-brown tea; against the wall, a wide, + rickety, greasy sofa; on the window-sills, tobacco-ash.... In + a podgy, clumsy arm-chair one would find the master of the + place in a grass-green dressing-gown with crimson plush + facings and an embroidered smoking-cap of Asiatic extraction, + and a hideously fat, unpleasant dog in a stinking brass + collar would be snoring at his side.... All the doors always + ajar.... + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch made a favourable impression on his new + comrades. They liked him for his good-nature, modesty, + warm-heartedness, and natural inclination for everything + beautiful, for everything, in fact, which in another officer + they might, very likely, have thought out of place. They + called Kister a young lady, and were kind and gentle in their + manners with him. Avdey Ivanovitch was the only one who eyed + him dubiously. One day after drill Lutchkov went up to him, + slightly pursing up his lips and inflating his nostrils: + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Mr. Knaster.' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked at him in some perplexity. + </p> + <p> + 'A very good day to you, Mr. Knaster,' repeated Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'My name's Kister, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't say so, Mr. Knaster.' + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. + Lutchkov looked after him with a grin. + </p> + <p> + Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey + Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant + glee. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!' + </p> + <p> + 'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid + and ill-bred—do you hear?—stupid and ill-bred.' + </p> + <p> + 'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly. + </p> + <p> + 'When you like,... to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister + slightly, and to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went + up to the wounded man, took him by the hand and begged his + pardon. Kister had to keep indoors for a fortnight. Avdey + Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him and on Fyodor + Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was + pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling + akin to remorse was roused in his soul—it's hard to + say... but from the time of his duel with Kister, Avdey + Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and called him first + Fyodor, and afterwards simply Fedya. In his presence he + became quite another man and—strange to say!—the + change was not in his favour. It did not suit him to be + gentle and soft. Sympathy he could not call forth in any one + anyhow; such was his destiny! He belonged to that class of + persons to whom has somehow been granted the privilege of + authority over others; but nature had denied him the gifts + essential for the justification of such a privilege. Having + received no education, not being distinguished by + intelligence, he ought not to have revealed himself; possibly + his malignancy had its origin in his consciousness of the + defects of his bringing up, in the desire to conceal himself + altogether under one unchanging mask. Avdey Ivanovitch had at + first forced himself to despise people, then he began to + notice that it was not a difficult matter to intimidate them, + and he began to despise them in reality. Lutchkov enjoyed + cutting short by his very approach all but the most vulgar + conversation. 'I know nothing, and have learned nothing, and + I have no talents,' he said to himself; 'and so you too shall + know nothing and not show off your talents before me....' + Kister, perhaps, had made Lutchkov abandon the part he had + taken up—just because before his acquaintance with him, + the bully had never met any one genuinely idealistic, that is + to say, unselfishly and simple-heartedly absorbed in dreams, + and so, indulgent to others, and not full of himself. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch would come sometimes to Kister, light a pipe + and quietly sit down in an arm-chair. Lutchkov was not in + Kister's company abashed by his own ignorance; he + relied—and with good reason—on his German + modesty. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' he would begin, 'what did you do yesterday? Been + reading, I'll bet, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I read....' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, and what did you read? Come, tell away, old man, tell + away.' Avdey Ivanovitch kept up his bantering tone to the + end. + </p> + <p> + 'I read Kleist's <i>Idyll</i>. Ah, what a fine thing it is! + If you don't mind, I'll translate you a few lines....' And + Kister translated with fervour, while Lutchkov, wrinkling up + his forehead and compressing his lips, listened + attentively.... 'Yes, yes,' he would repeat hurriedly, with a + disagreeable smile,'it's fine... very fine... I remember, + I've read it... very fine.' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me, please,' he added affectedly, and as it were + reluctantly, 'what's your view of Louis the Fourteenth?' + </p> + <p> + And Kister would proceed to discourse upon Louis the + Fourteenth, while Lutchkov listened, totally failing to + understand a great deal, misunderstanding a part... and at + last venturing to make a remark.... This threw him into a + cold sweat; 'now, if I'm making a fool of myself,' he + thought. And as a fact he often did make a fool of himself. + But Kister was never off-hand in his replies; the + good-hearted youth was inwardly rejoicing that, as he + thought, the desire for enlightenment was awakened in a + fellow-creature. Alas! it was from no desire for + enlightenment that Avdey Ivanovitch questioned Kister; God + knows why he did! Possibly he wished to ascertain for himself + what sort of head he, Lutchkov, had, whether it was really + dull, or simply untrained. 'So I really am stupid,' he said + to himself more than once with a bitter smile; and he would + draw himself up instantly and look rudely and insolently + about him, and smile malignantly to himself if he caught some + comrade dropping his eyes before his glance. 'All right, my + man, you're so learned and well educated,...' he would mutter + between his teeth. 'I'll show you... that's all....' + </p> + <p> + The officers did not long discuss the sudden friendship of + Kister and Lutchkov; they were used to the duellist's queer + ways. 'The devil's made friends with the baby,' they said.... + Kister was warm in his praises of his friend on all hands; no + one disputed his opinion, because they were afraid of + Lutchkov; Lutchkov himself never mentioned Kister's name + before the others, but he dropped his intimacy with the + perfumed adjutant. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving + balls, inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off + their daughters. + </p> + <p> + About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just + such a country gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four + hundred souls, and a fairly spacious house. He had a daughter + of eighteen, Mashenka, and a wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr. + Perekatov had once been an officer in the cavalry, but from + love of a country life and from indolence he had retired and + had begun to live peaceably and quietly, as landowners of the + middling sort do live. Nenila Makarievna owed her existence + in a not perfectly legitimate manner to a distinguished + gentleman of Moscow. + </p> + <p> + Her protector had educated his little Nenila very carefully, + as it is called, in his own house, but got her off his hands + rather hurriedly, at the first offer, as a not very + marketable article. Nenila Makarievna was ugly; the + distinguished gentleman was giving her no more than ten + thousand as dowry; she snatched eagerly at Mr. Perekatov. To + Mr. Perekatov it seemed extremely gratifying to marry a + highly educated, intellectual young lady... who was, after + all, so closely related to so illustrious a personage. This + illustrious personage extended his patronage to the young + people even after the marriage, that is to say, he accepted + presents of salted quails from them and called Perekatov 'my + dear boy,' and sometimes simply, 'boy.' Nenila Makarievna + took complete possession of her husband, managed everything, + and looked after the whole property—very sensibly, + indeed; far better, any way, than Mr. Perekatov could have + done. She did not hamper her partner's liberty too much; but + she kept him well in hand, ordered his clothes herself, and + dressed him in the English style, as is fitting and proper + for a country gentleman. By her instructions, Mr. Perekatov + grew a little Napoleonic beard on his chin, to cover a large + wart, which looked like an over-ripe raspberry. Nenila + Makarievna, for her part, used to inform visitors that her + husband played the flute, and that all flute-players always + let the beard grow under the lower lip; they could hold their + instrument more comfortably. Mr. Perekatov always, even in + the early morning, wore a high, clean stock, and was well + combed and washed. He was, moreover, well content with his + lot; he dined very well, did as he liked, and slept all he + could. Nenila Makarievna had introduced into her household + 'foreign ways,' as the neighbours used to say; she kept few + servants, and had them neatly dressed. She was fretted by + ambition; she wanted at least to be the wife of the marshal + of the nobility of the district; but the gentry of the + district, though they dined at her house to their hearts' + content, did not choose her husband, but first the retired + premier-major Burkolts, and then the retired second major + Burundukov. Mr. Perekatov seemed to them too extreme a + product of the capital. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Perekatov's daughter, Mashenka, was in face like her + father. Nenila Makarievna had taken the greatest pains with + her education. She spoke French well, and played the piano + fairly. She was of medium height, rather plump and white; her + rather full face was lighted up by a kindly and merry smile; + her flaxen, not over-abundant hair, her hazel eyes, her + pleasant voice—everything about her was gently + pleasing, and that was all. On the other hand the absence of + all affectation and conventionality, an amount of culture + exceptional in a country girl, the freedom of her + expressions, the quiet simplicity of her words and looks + could not but be striking in her. She had developed at her + own free will; Nenila Makarievna did not keep her in + restraint. + </p> + <p> + One morning at twelve o'clock the whole family of the + Perekatovs were in the drawing-room. The husband in a round + green coat, a high check cravat, and pea-green trousers with + straps, was standing at the window, very busily engaged in + catching flies. The daughter was sitting at her embroidery + frame; her small dimpled little hand rose and fell slowly and + gracefully over the canvas. Nenila Makarievna was sitting on + the sofa, gazing in silence at the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you send an invitation to the regiment at Kirilovo, + Sergei Sergeitch?' she asked her husband. + </p> + <p> + 'For this evening? To be sure I did, ma chère.' (He + was under the strictest orders not to call her 'little + mother.') 'To be sure!' + </p> + <p> + 'There are positively no gentlemen,' pursued Nenila + Makarievna. 'Nobody for the girls to dance with.' + </p> + <p> + Her husband sighed, as though crushed by the absence of + partners. + </p> + <p> + 'Mamma,' Masha began all at once, 'is Monsieur Lutchkov + asked?' + </p> + <p> + 'What Lutchkov?' + </p> + <p> + 'He's an officer too. They say he's a very interesting + person.' + </p> + <p> + 'How's that?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, he's not good-looking and he's not young, but every + one's afraid of him. He's a dreadful duellist.' (Mamma + frowned a little.) 'I should so like to see him.' + </p> + <p> + Sergei Sergeitch interrupted his daughter. + </p> + <p> + 'What is there to see in him, my darling? Do you suppose he + must look like Lord Byron?' (At that time we were only just + beginning to talk about Lord Byron.) 'Nonsense! Why, I + declare, my dear, there was a time when I had a terrible + character as a fighting man.' + </p> + <p> + Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped + up and kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, + too... but Sergei Sergeitch had spoken the truth. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know if that gentleman is coming,' observed Nenila + Makarievna. 'Possibly he may come too.' + </p> + <p> + The daughter sighed. + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him,' remarked + Sergei Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that + nowadays—so—what shall I say?—romantic...' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' Masha responded simply. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband. Sergei + Sergeitch played with his watch-chain in some embarrassment, + then took his wide-brimmed, English hat from the table, and + set off to see after things on the estate. + </p> + <p> + His dog timidly and meekly followed him. As an intelligent + animal, she was well aware that her master was not a person + of very great authority in the house, and behaved herself + accordingly with modesty and circumspection. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna went up to her daughter, gently raised her + head, and looked affectionately into her eyes. 'Will you tell + me when you fall in love?' she asked. + </p> + <p> + Masha kissed her mother's hand, smiling, and nodded her head + several times in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + 'Mind you do,' observed Nenila Makarievna, stroking her + cheek, and she went out after her husband. Masha leaned back + in her chair, dropped her head on her bosom, interlaced her + fingers, and looked long out of window, screwing up her + eyes... A slight flush passed over her fresh cheeks; with a + sigh she drew herself up, was setting to work again, but + dropped her needle, leaned her face on her hand, and biting + the tips of her nails, fell to dreaming... then glanced at + her own shoulder, at her outstretched hand, got up, went to + the window, laughed, put on her hat and went out into the + garden. + </p> + <p> + That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. + Madame Perekatov with great affability received and + 'entertained' the ladies, Mashenka the girls; Sergei + Sergeitch talked about the crops with the gentlemen and + continually glanced towards his wife. Soon there arrived the + young dandies, the officers, intentionally a little late; at + last the colonel himself, accompanied by his adjutants, + Kister and Lutchkov. He presented them to the lady of the + house. Lutchkov bowed without speaking, Kister muttered the + customary 'extremely delighted'... Mr. Perekatov went up to + the colonel, pressed his hand warmly and looked him in the + face with great cordiality. The colonel promptly looked + forbidding. The dancing began. Kister asked Mashenka for a + dance. At that time the <i>Ecossaise</i> was still + flourishing. + </p> + <p> + 'Do tell me, please,' Masha said to him, when, after + galloping twenty times to the end of the room, they stood at + last, the first couple, 'why isn't your friend dancing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Which friend?' + </p> + <p> + Masha pointed with the tip of her fan at Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'He never dances,' answered Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Why did he come then?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was a little disconcerted. 'He wished to have the + pleasure...' + </p> + <p> + Mashenka interrupted him. 'You've not long been transferred + into our regiment, I think?' + </p> + <p> + 'Into your regiment,' observed Kister, with a smile: 'no, not + long.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aren't you dull here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh no... I find such delightful society here... and the + scenery!'... Kister launched into eulogies of the scenery. + Masha listened to him, without raising her head. Avdey + Ivanovitch was standing in a corner, looking indifferently at + the dancers. + </p> + <p> + 'How old is Mr. Lutchkov?' she asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh... thirty-five, I fancy,' answered Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'They say he's a dangerous man... hot-tempered,' Masha added + hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'He is a little hasty... but still, he's a very fine man.' + </p> + <p> + 'They say every one's afraid of him.' + </p> + <p> + Kister laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'And you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm a friend of his.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' + </p> + <p> + 'Your turn, your turn,' was shrieked at them from all sides. + They started and began galloping again right across the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I congratulate you,' Kister said to Lutchkov, going up + to him after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does + nothing but ask questions about you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' Lutchkov responded scornfully. + </p> + <p> + 'On my honour! And you know she's extremely nice-looking; + only look at her.' + </p> + <p> + 'Which of them is she?' + </p> + <p> + Kister pointed out Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, not bad.' And Lutchkov yawned. + </p> + <p> + 'Cold-hearted person!' cried Kister, and he ran off to ask + another girl to dance. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch was extremely delighted at the fact Kister + had mentioned to him, though he did yawn, and even yawned + loudly. To arouse curiosity flattered his vanity intensely: + love he despised—in words—but inwardly he was + himself aware that it would be a hard and difficult task for + him to win love.... A hard and difficult task for him to win + love, but easy and simple enough to wear a mask of + indifference, of silent haughtiness. Avdey Ivanovitch was + unattractive and no longer young; but on the other hand he + enjoyed a terrible reputation—and consequently he had + every right to pose. He was used to the bitter, unspoken + enjoyment of grim loneliness. It was not the first time he + had attracted the attention of women; some had even tried to + get upon more friendly terms with him, but he repelled their + advances with exasperated obstinacy; he knew that sentiment + was not in his line (during tender interviews, avowals, he + first became awkward and vulgar, and, through anger, rude to + the point of grossness, of insult); he remembered that the + two or three women with whom he had at different times been + on a friendly footing had rapidly grown cool to him after the + first moment of closer intimacy, and had of their own impulse + made haste to get away from him... and so he had at last + schooled himself to remain an enigma, and to scorn what + destiny had denied him.... This is, I fancy, the only sort of + scorn people in general do feel. No sort of frank, + spontaneous, that is to say good, demonstration of passion + suited Lutchkov; he was bound to keep a continual check on + himself, even when he was angry. Kister was the only person + who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke into laughter; the + kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous delight of + sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from + Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering + looks, like a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, + Lutchkov never left his corner, scowled, glanced stealthily + at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at once threw an expression + of indifference into his own. Masha danced three times with + Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with confidence. + She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not + at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up + and down, tapping with their heels, and tossing the + epaulettes on their shoulders; the civilians tapped with + their heels too. Lutchkov still did not stir from his place, + and slowly followed the couples with his eyes, as they + whirled by. Some one touched his sleeve... he looked round; + his neighbour pointed him out Masha. She was standing before + him with downcast eyes, holding out her hand to him. Lutchkov + for the first moment gazed at her in perplexity, then he + carelessly took off his sword, threw his hat on the floor, + picked his way awkwardly among the arm-chairs, took Masha by + the hand, and went round the circle, with no capering up and + down nor stamping, as it were unwillingly performing an + unpleasant duty.... Masha's heart beat violently. + </p> + <p> + 'Why don't you dance?' she asked him at last. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't care for it,' answered Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'Where's your place?' + </p> + <p> + 'Over there.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov conducted Masha to her chair, coolly bowed to her + and coolly returned to his corner... but there was an + agreeable stirring of the spleen within him. + </p> + <p> + Kister asked Masha for a dance. + </p> + <p> + 'What a strange person your friend is!' + </p> + <p> + 'He does interest you...' said Fyodor Fedoritch, with a sly + twinkle of his blue and kindly eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... he must be very unhappy.' + </p> + <p> + 'He unhappy? What makes you suppose so?' And Fyodor Fedoritch + laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know... you don't know...' Masha solemnly shook + her head with an important air. + </p> + <p> + 'Me not know? How's that?'... + </p> + <p> + Masha shook her head again and glanced towards Lutchkov. + Avdey Ivanovitch noticed the glance, shrugged his shoulders + imperceptibly, and walked away into the other room. + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + Several months had passed since that evening. Lutchkov had + not once been at the Perekatovs'. But Kister visited them + pretty often. Nenila Makarievna had taken a fancy to him, but + it was not she that attracted Fyodor Fedoritch. He liked + Masha. Being an inexperienced person who had not yet talked + himself out, he derived great pleasure from the interchange + of ideas and feelings, and he had a simple-hearted faith in + the possibility of a calm and exalted friendship between a + young man and a young girl. + </p> + <p> + One day his three well-fed and skittish horses whirled him + rapidly along to Mr. Perekatov's house. It was a summer day, + close and sultry. Not a cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky + was so thick and dark on the horizon that the eye mistook it + for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had erected for a + summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the + steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. + Nenila Makarievna had every shutter closed from early + morning. Kister walked into the cool, half-dark drawing-room. + The light lay in long lines on the floor and in short, close + streaks on the walls. The Perekatov family gave Fyodor + Fedoritch a friendly reception. After dinner Nenila + Makarievna went away to her own room to lie down; Mr. + Perekatov settled himself on the sofa in the drawing-room; + Masha sat near the window at her embroidery frame, Kister + facing her. Masha, without opening her frame, leaned lightly + over it, with her head in her hands. Kister began telling her + something; she listened inattentively, as though waiting for + something, looked from time to time towards her father, and + all at once stretched out her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch... only speak a little more + softly... papa's asleep.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Perekatov had indeed as usual dropped asleep on the sofa, + with his head hanging and his mouth a little open. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it?' Kister inquired with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + 'You will laugh at me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no, really!...' + </p> + <p> + Masha let her head sink till only the upper part of her face + remained uncovered by her hands and in a half whisper, not + without hesitation, asked Kister why it was he never brought + Mr. Lutchkov with him. It was not the first time Masha had + mentioned him since the ball.... Kister did not speak. Masha + glanced timorously over her interlaced fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'May I tell you frankly what I think?' Kister asked her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, why not? of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'It seems to me that Lutchkov has made a great impression on + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'No!' answered Masha, and she bent over, as though wishing to + examine the pattern more closely; a narrow golden streak of + light lay on her hair; 'no... but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, but?' said Kister, smiling. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, don't you see,' said Masha, and she suddenly lifted + her head, so that the streak of light fell straight in her + eyes; 'don't you see... he...' + </p> + <p> + 'He interests you....' + </p> + <p> + 'Well... yes...' Masha said slowly; she flushed a little, + turned her head a little away and in that position went on + talking. 'There is something about him so... There, you're + laughing at me,' she added suddenly, glancing swiftly at + Fyodor Fedoritch. + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch smiled the gentlest smile imaginable. + </p> + <p> + 'I tell you everything, whatever comes into my head,' Masha + went on: 'I know that you are a very'... (she nearly said + great) 'good friend of mine.' + </p> + <p> + Kister bowed. Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her + hand to him; Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers + respectfully. + </p> + <p> + 'He must be a very queer person!' observed Masha, and again + she propped her elbows on the frame. + </p> + <p> + 'Queer?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer!' Masha + added slily. + </p> + <p> + 'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man,' Kister rejoined + solemnly. 'They don't know him in our regiment, they don't + appreciate him, they only see his external side. He's + embittered, of course, and strange and impatient, but his + heart is good.' + </p> + <p> + Masha listened greedily to Fyodor Fedoritch. + </p> + <p> + 'I will bring him to see you, I'll tell him there's no need + to be afraid of you, that it's absurd for him to be so shy... + I'll tell him... Oh! yes, I know what to say... Only you + mustn't suppose, though, that I would...' (Kister was + embarrassed, Masha too was embarrassed.)... 'Besides, after + all, of course you only... like him....' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, just as I like lots of people.' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked mischievously at her. + </p> + <p> + 'All right, all right,' he said with a satisfied air; 'I'll + bring him to you....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no....' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, I tell you it will be all right.... I'll arrange + everything.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are so...' Masha began with a smile, and she shook her + finger at him. Mr. Perekatov yawned and opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, I almost think I've been asleep,' he muttered with + surprise. This doubt and this surprise were repeated daily. + Masha and Kister began discussing Schiller. + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch was not however quite at ease; he felt + something like a stir of envy within him... and was + generously indignant with himself. Nenila Makarievna came + down into the drawing-room. Tea was brought in. Mr. Perekatov + made his dog jump several times over a stick, and then + explained he had taught it everything himself, while the dog + wagged its tail deferentially, licked itself and blinked. + When at last the great heat began to lessen, and an evening + breeze blew up, the whole family went out for a walk in the + birch copse. Fyodor Fedoritch was continually glancing at + Masha, as though giving her to understand that he would carry + out her behests; Masha felt at once vexed with herself, and + happy and uncomfortable. Kister suddenly, apropos of nothing, + plunged into a rather high-flown discourse upon love in the + abstract, and upon friendship... but catching Nenila + Makarievna's bright and vigilant eye he, as abruptly, changed + the subject. The sunset was brilliant and glowing. A broad, + level meadow lay outstretched before the birch copse. Masha + took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch.' + Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with + his wife, Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential + little shrieks; Mr. Perekatov's valet had the temerity to + separate Nenila Makarievna from her spouse; one of the + servant-girls respectfully paired off with her master; Fyodor + Fedoritch was not parted from Masha. Every time as he + regained his place, he said two or three words to her; Masha, + all flushed with running, listened to him with a smile, + passing her hand over her hair. After supper, Kister took + leave. + </p> + <p> + It was a still, starlight night. Kister took off his cap. He + was excited; there was a lump in his throat. 'Yes,' he said + at last, almost aloud; 'she loves him: I will bring them + together; I will justify her confidence in me.' Though there + was as yet nothing to prove a definite passion for Lutchkov + on Masha's part, though, according to her own account, he + only excited her curiosity, Kister had by this time made up a + complete romance, and worked out his own duty in the matter. + He resolved to sacrifice his feelings—the more readily + as 'so far I have no other sentiment for her but sincere + devotion,' thought he. Kister really was capable of + sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised duty. He + had read a great deal, and so fancied himself a person of + experience and even of penetration; he had no doubt of the + truth of his suppositions; he did not suspect that life is + endlessly varied, and never repeats itself. Little by little, + Fyodor Fedoritch worked himself into a state of ecstasy. He + began musing with emotion on his mission. To be the mediator + between a shy, loving girl and a man possibly embittered only + because he had never once in his life loved and been loved; + to bring them together; to reveal their own feelings to them, + and then to withdraw, letting no one know the greatness of + his sacrifice, what a splendid feat! In spite of the coolness + of the night, the simple-hearted dreamer's face burned.... + </p> + <p> + Next day he went round to Lutchkov early in the morning. + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch was, as usual, lying on the sofa, smoking a + pipe. Kister greeted him. + </p> + <p> + 'I was at the Perekatovs yesterday,' he said with some + solemnity. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' Lutchkov responded indifferently, and he yawned. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. They are splendid people.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' + </p> + <p> + 'We talked about you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Much obliged; with which of them was that?' + </p> + <p> + 'With the old people... and the daughter too.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! that... little fat thing?' + </p> + <p> + 'She's a splendid girl, Lutchkov.' + </p> + <p> + 'To be sure, they're all splendid.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, Lutchkov, you don't know her. I have never met such a + clever, sweet and sensitive girl.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov began humming through his nose: + </p> + <pre> + 'In the Hamburg Gazette, + You've read, I dare say, + How the year before last, + Munich gained the day....' +</pre> + <p> + 'But I assure you....' + </p> + <p> + 'You 're in love with her, Fedya,' Lutchkov remarked + sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all. I never even thought of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Fedya, you're in love with her!' + </p> + <p> + 'What nonsense! As if one couldn't...' + </p> + <p> + 'You're in love with her, friend of my heart, beetle on my + hearth,' Avdey Ivanovitch chanted drawling. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, Avdey, you really ought to be ashamed!' Kister said with + vexation. + </p> + <p> + With any one else Lutchkov would thereupon have kept on more + than before; Kister he did not tease. 'Well, well, sprechen + Sie deutsch, Ivan Andreitch,' he muttered in an undertone, + 'don't be angry.' + </p> + <p> + 'Listen, Avdey,' Kister began warmly, and he sat down beside + him. 'You know I care for you.' (Lutchkov made a wry face.) + 'But there's one thing, I'll own, I don't like about you... + it's just that you won't make friends with any one, that you + will stick at home, and refuse all intercourse with nice + people. Why, there are nice people in the world, hang it all! + Suppose you have been deceived in life, have been embittered, + what of it; there's no need to rush into people's arms, of + course, but why turn your back on everybody? Why, you'll cast + me off some day, at that rate, I suppose.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov went on smoking coolly. + </p> + <p> + 'That's how it is no one knows you... except me; goodness + knows what some people think of you... Avdey!' added Kister + after a brief silence; 'do you disbelieve in virtue, Avdey?' + </p> + <p> + 'Disbelieve... no, I believe in it,'... muttered Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + Kister pressed his hand feelingly. + </p> + <p> + 'I want,' he went on in a voice full of emotion, 'to + reconcile you with life. You will grow happier, blossom + out... yes, blossom out. How I shall rejoice then! Only you + must let me dispose of you now and then, of your time. To-day + it's—what? Monday... to-morrow's Tuesday... on + Wednesday, yes, on Wednesday we'll go together to the + Perekatovs'. They will be so glad to see you... and we shall + have such a jolly time there... and now let me have a pipe.' + </p> + <p> + Avdey Ivanovitch lay without budging on the sofa, staring at + the ceiling. Kister lighted a pipe, went to the window, and + began drumming on the panes with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + 'So they've been talking about me?' Avdey asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + 'They have,' Kister responded with meaning. + </p> + <p> + 'What did they say?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, they talked. There're very anxious to make your + acquaintance.' + </p> + <p> + 'Which of them's that?' + </p> + <p> + 'I say, what curiosity!' + </p> + <p> + Avdey called his servant, and ordered his horse to be + saddled. + </p> + <p> + 'Where are you off to?' + </p> + <p> + 'The riding-school.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, good-bye. So we're going to the Perekatovs', eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'All right, if you like,' Lutchkov said lazily, stretching. + </p> + <p> + 'Bravo, old man!' cried Kister, and he went out into the + street, pondered, and sighed deeply. + </p> + <h3> + IV + </h3> + <p> + Masha was just approaching the drawing-room door when the + arrival of Kister and Lutchkov was announced. She promptly + returned to her own room, and went up to the + looking-glass.... Her heart was throbbing violently. A girl + came to summon her to the drawing-room. Masha drank a little + water, stopped twice on the stairs, and at last went down. + Mr. Perekatov was not at home. Nenila Makarievna was sitting + on the sofa; Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing + his uniform, with his hat on his knees; Kister was near him. + They both got up on Masha's entrance—Kister with his + usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn and constrained + air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her + mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably. Masha + recovered herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To + the questions addressed to him by the lady of the house, he + answered briefly, but uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic + people. Nenila Makarievna suggested a stroll in the garden to + her guests, but did not herself go beyond the balcony. She + did not consider it essential never to lose sight of her + daughter, and to be constantly hobbling after her with a fat + reticule in her hands, after the fashion of many mothers in + the steppes. The stroll lasted rather a long while. Masha + talked more with Kister, but did not dare to look either at + him or at Lutchkov. Avdey Ivanovitch did not address a remark + to her; Kister's voice showed agitation. He laughed and + chattered a little over-much.... They reached the stream. A + couple of yards or so from the bank there was a water-lily, + which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, + encircled by its broad, round leaves. + </p> + <p> + 'What a beautiful flower!' observed Masha. + </p> + <p> + She had hardly uttered these words when Lutchkov pulled out + his sword, clutched with one hand at the frail twigs of a + willow, and, bending his whole body over the water, cut off + the head of the flower. 'It's deep here, take care!' Masha + cried in terror. Lutchkov with the tip of his sword brought + the flower to the bank, at her very feet. She bent down, + picked up the flower, and gazed with tender, delighted + amazement at Avdey. 'Bravo!' cried Kister. 'And I can't + swim...' Lutchkov observed abruptly. Masha did not like that + remark. 'What made him say that?' she wondered. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov and Kister remained at Mr. Perekatov's till the + evening. Something new and unknown was passing in Masha's + soul; a dreamy perplexity was reflected more than once in her + face. She moved somehow more slowly, she did not flush on + meeting her mother's eyes—on the contrary, she seemed + to seek them, as though she would question her. During the + whole evening, Lutchkov paid her a sort of awkward attention; + but even this awkwardness gratified her innocent vanity. When + they had both taken leave, with a promise to come again in a + few days, she quietly went off to her own room, and for a + long while, as it were, in bewilderment she looked about her. + Nenila Makarievna came to her, kissed and embraced her as + usual. Masha opened her lips, tried to say + something—and did not utter a word. She wanted to + confess—-she did not know what. Her soul was gently + wandering in dreams. On the little table by her bedside the + flower Lutchkov had picked lay in water in a clean glass. + Masha, already in bed, sat up cautiously, leaned on her + elbow, and her maiden lips softly touched the fresh white + petals.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' Kister questioned his friend next day, 'do you like + the Perekatovs? Was I right? eh? Tell me.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov did not answer. + </p> + <p> + 'No, do tell me, do tell me!' + </p> + <p> + 'Really, I don't know.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense, come now!' + </p> + <p> + 'That... what's her name... Mashenka's all right; not + bad-looking.' + </p> + <p> + 'There, you see...' said Kister—and he said no more. + </p> + <p> + Five days later Lutchkov of his own accord suggested that + they should call on the Perekatovs. + </p> + <p> + Alone he would not have gone to see them; in Fyodor + Fedoritch's absence he would have had to keep up a + conversation, and that he could not do, and as far as + possible avoided. + </p> + <p> + On the second visit of the two friends, Masha was much more + at her ease. She was by now secretly glad that she had not + disturbed her mamma by an uninvited avowal. Before dinner, + Avdey had offered to try a young horse, not yet broken in, + and, in spite of its frantic rearing, he mastered it + completely. In the evening he thawed, and fell into joking + and laughing—and though he soon pulled himself up, yet + he had succeeded in making a momentary unpleasant impression + on Masha. She could not yet be sure herself what the feeling + exactly was that Lutchkov excited in her, but everything she + did not like in him she set down to the influence of + misfortune, of loneliness. + </p> + <h3> + V + </h3> + <p> + The friends began to pay frequent visits to the Perekatovs'. + Kister's position became more and more painful. He did not + regret his action... no, but he desired at least to cut short + the time of his trial. His devotion to Masha increased daily; + she too felt warmly towards him; but to be nothing more than + a go-between, a confidant, a friend even—it's a dreary, + thankless business! Coldly idealistic people talk a great + deal about the sacredness of suffering, the bliss of + suffering... but to Kister's warm and simple heart his + sufferings were not a source of any bliss whatever. At last, + one day, when Lutchkov, ready dressed, came to fetch him, and + the carriage was waiting at the steps, Fyodor Fedoritch, to + the astonishment of his friend, announced point-blank that he + should stay at home. Lutchkov entreated him, was vexed and + angry... Kister pleaded a headache. Lutchkov set off alone. + </p> + <p> + The bully had changed in many ways of late. He left his + comrades in peace, did not annoy the novices, and though his + spirit had not 'blossomed out,' as Kister had foretold, yet + he certainly had toned down a little. He could not have been + called 'disillusioned' before—he had seen and + experienced almost nothing—and so it is not surprising + that Masha engrossed his thoughts. His heart was not touched + though; only his spleen was satisfied. Masha's feelings for + him were of a strange kind. She almost never looked him + straight in the face; she could not talk to him.... When they + happened to be left alone together, Masha felt horribly + awkward. She took him for an exceptional man, and felt + overawed by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did + not understand him, and was unworthy of his confidence; + miserably, drearily—but continually—she thought + of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, soothed her and + put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed nor + excited her. With him she could chatter away for hours + together, leaning on his arm, as though he were her brother, + looking affectionately into his face, and laughing with his + laughter—and she rarely thought of him. In Lutchkov + there was something enigmatic for the young girl; she felt + that his soul was 'dark as a forest,' and strained every + effort to penetrate into that mysterious gloom.... So + children stare a long while into a deep well, till at last + they make out at the very bottom the still, black water. + </p> + <p> + On Lutchkov's coming into the drawing-room alone, Masha was + at first scared... but then she felt delighted. She had more + than once fancied that there existed some sort of + misunderstanding between Lutchkov and her, that he had not + hitherto had a chance of revealing himself. Lutchkov + mentioned the cause of Kister's absence; the parents + expressed their regret, but Masha looked incredulously at + Avdey, and felt faint with expectation. After dinner they + were left alone; Masha did not know what to say, she sat down + to the piano; her fingers flitted hurriedly and tremblingly + over the keys; she was continually stopping and waiting for + the first word... Lutchkov did not understand nor care for + music. Masha began talking to him about Rossini (Rossini was + at that time just coming into fashion) and about Mozart.... + Avdey Ivanovitch responded: 'Quite so,' 'by no means,' + 'beautiful,' 'indeed,' and that was all. Masha played some + brilliant variations on one of Rossini's airs. Lutchkov + listened and listened... and when at last she turned to him, + his face expressed such unfeigned boredom, that Masha jumped + up at once and closed the piano. She went up to the window, + and for a long while stared into the garden; Lutchkov did not + stir from his seat, and still remained silent. Impatience + began to take the place of timidity in Masha's soul. 'What is + it?' she wondered, 'won't you... or can't you?' It was + Lutchkov's turn to feel shy. He was conscious again of his + miserable, overwhelming diffidence; already he was raging!... + 'It was the devil's own notion to have anything to do with + the wretched girl,' he muttered to himself.... And all the + while how easy it was to touch Masha's heart at that instant! + Whatever had been said by such an extraordinary though + eccentric man, as she imagined Lutchkov, she would have + understood everything, have excused anything, have believed + anything.... But this burdensome, stupid silence! Tears of + vexation were standing in her eyes. 'If he doesn't want to be + open, if I am really not worthy of his confidence, why does + he go on coming to see us? Or perhaps it is that I don't set + the right way to work to make him reveal himself?'... And she + turned swiftly round, and glanced so inquiringly, so + searchingly at him, that he could not fail to understand her + glance, and could not keep silence any longer.... + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced falteringly; 'I... I've... I + ought to tell you something....' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak,' Masha responded rapidly. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov looked round him irresolutely. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't now...' + </p> + <p> + 'Why not?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to speak to you... alone....' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, we are alone now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... but... here in the house....' + </p> + <p> + Masha was at her wits' end.... 'If I refuse,' she thought, + 'it's all over.'... Curiosity was the ruin of Eve.... + </p> + <p> + 'I agree,' she said at last. + </p> + <p> + 'When then? Where?' + </p> + <p> + Masha's breathing came quickly and unevenly. + </p> + <p> + 'To-morrow... in the evening. You know the copse above the + Long Meadow?'... + </p> + <p> + 'Behind the mill?' + </p> + <p> + Masha nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'What time?' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait...' + </p> + <p> + She could not bring out another word; her voice broke... she + turned pale and went quickly out of the room. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Perekatov, with his + characteristic politeness, conducted Lutchkov to the hall, + pressed his hand feelingly, and begged him 'not to forget + them'; then, having let out his guest, he observed with + dignity to the footman that it would be as well for him to + shave, and without awaiting a reply, returned with a careworn + air to his own room, with the same careworn air sat down on + the sofa, and guilelessly dropped asleep on the spot. + </p> + <p> + 'You're a little pale to-day,' Nenila Makarievna said to her + daughter, on the evening of the same day. 'Are you quite + well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna set straight the kerchief on the girl's + neck. + </p> + <p> + 'You are very pale; look at me,' she went on, with that + motherly solicitude in which there is none the less audible a + note of parental authority: 'there, now, your eyes look heavy + too. You're not well, Masha.' + </p> + <p> + 'My head does ache a little,' said Masha, to find some way of + escape. + </p> + <p> + 'There, I knew it.' Nenila Makarievna put some scent on + Masha's forehead. 'You're not feverish, though.' + </p> + <p> + Masha stooped down, and picked a thread off the floor. + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna's arms lay softly round Masha's slender + waist. + </p> + <p> + 'It seems to me you have something you want to tell me,' she + said caressingly, not loosing her hands. + </p> + <p> + Masha shuddered inwardly. + </p> + <p> + 'I? Oh, no, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Masha's momentary confusion did not escape her mother's + attention. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes, you do.... Think a little.' + </p> + <p> + But Masha had had time to regain her self-possession, and + instead of answering, she kissed her mother's hand with a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'And so you've nothing to tell me?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, really, nothing.' + </p> + <p> + 'I believe you,' responded Nenila Makarievna, after a short + silence. 'I know you keep nothing secret from me.... That's + true, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + Masha could not help blushing a little, though. + </p> + <p> + 'You do quite rightly. It would be wrong of you to keep + anything from me.... You know how I love you, Masha.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes, mamma.' + </p> + <p> + And Masha hugged her. + </p> + <p> + 'There, there, that's enough.' (Nenila Makarievna walked + about the room.) 'Oh tell me,' she went on in the voice of + one who feels that the question asked is of no special + importance; 'what were you talking about with Avdey + Ivanovitch to-day?' + </p> + <p> + 'With Avdey Ivanovitch?' Masha repeated serenely. 'Oh, all + sorts of things....' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you like him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes, I like him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember how anxious you were to get to know him, how + excited you were?' + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away and laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'What a strange person he is!' Nenila Makarievna observed + good-humouredly. + </p> + <p> + Masha felt an inclination to defend Lutchkov, but she held + her tongue. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, of course,' she said rather carelessly; 'he is a queer + fish, but still he's a nice man!' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes!... Why didn't Fyodor Fedoritch come?' + </p> + <p> + 'He was unwell, I suppose. Ah! by the way, Fyodor Fedoritch + wanted to make me a present of a puppy.... Will you let me?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? Accept his present?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, thank you!' said Masha, 'thank you, thank you!' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna got as far as the door and suddenly turned + back again. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember your promise, Masha?' + </p> + <p> + 'What promise?' + </p> + <p> + 'You were going to tell me when you fall in love.' + </p> + <p> + 'I remember.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well... hasn't the time come yet?' (Masha laughed + musically.) 'Look into my eyes.' + </p> + <p> + Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother. + </p> + <p> + 'It can't be!' thought Nenila Makarievna, and she felt + reassured. 'As if she could deceive me!... How could I think + of such a thing!... She's still a perfect baby....' + </p> + <p> + She went away.... + </p> + <p> + 'But this is really wicked,' thought Masha. + </p> + <h3> + VI + </h3> + <p> + Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came into his + room. The bully's face never expressed <i>one</i> feeling; so + it was now: feigned indifference, coarse delight, + consciousness of his own superiority... a number of different + emotions were playing over his features. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question + him. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well? Are they all well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, why not?' + </p> + <p> + 'Did they ask why I didn't come?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I think so.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister + looked down and mused. + </p> + <p> + 'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring + voice, 'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured + fellow, but you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for + all that, if I may venture to say so.' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always + cracking them up! You're never tired of singing their + praises! To listen to you, they're all angels.... Nice sort + of angels!' + </p> + <p> + 'I like and respect women, but———' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not + going to argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain + man.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just + now,... are you talking about women?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!' + </p> + <p> + Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple + heart!) that Masha had been treating him badly; had been + torturing him, perhaps, as only women can.... + </p> + <p> + 'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov went off into a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he + said, in a drawling tone, complacently stroking his + moustaches. 'No, only, look here, Fedya,' he went on with the + manner of a preceptor, 'I was only going to point out that + you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. You believe + me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a + little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things + in your own hands. Look at Masha Perekatov now....' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh!' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Is there anything so specially attractive about me, hey? I + shouldn't have thought there was anything. There isn't + anything, is there? And here, I've a clandestine appointment + for to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in amazement + at Lutchkov. + </p> + <p> + 'For the evening, in a wood...' Avdey Ivanovitch continued + serenely. 'Only don't you go and imagine it means much. It's + only a bit of fun. It's slow here, don't you know. A pretty + little girl,... well, says I, why not? Marriage, of course, + I'm not going in for... but there, I like to recall my young + days. I don't care for hanging about petticoats—but I + may as well humour the baggage. We can listen to the + nightingales together. Of course, it's really more in your + line; but the wench has no eyes, you see. I should have + thought I wasn't worth looking at beside you.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov talked on a long while. But Kister did not hear him. + His head was going round. He turned pale and passed his hand + over his face. Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, + screwed up his eyes, stretched, and putting down Kister's + emotion to jealousy, was almost gasping with delight. But it + was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; he was wounded, + not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse carelessness, + his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha. He was + still staring intently at the bully, and it seemed as if for + the first time he was thoroughly seeing his face. So this it + was he had been scheming for! This for which he had + sacrificed his own inclinations! Here it was, the blessed + influence of love. + </p> + <p> + 'Avdey... do you mean to say you don't care for her?' he + muttered at last. + </p> + <p> + 'O innocence! O Arcadia!' responded Avdey, with a malignant + chuckle. + </p> + <p> + Kister in the goodness of his heart did not give in even + then; perhaps, thought he, Avdey is in a bad temper and is + 'humbugging' from old habit... he has not yet found a new + language to express new feelings. And was there not in + himself some other feeling lurking under his indignation? Did + not Lutchkov's avowal strike him so unpleasantly simply + because it concerned Masha? How could one tell, perhaps + Lutchkov really was in love with her.... Oh, no! no! a + thousand times no! That man in love?... That man was + loathsome with his bilious, yellow face, his nervous, + cat-like movements, crowing with conceit... loathsome! No, + not in such words would Kister have uttered to a devoted + friend the secret of his love.... In overflowing happiness, + in dumb rapture, with bright, blissful tears in his eyes + would he have flung himself on his bosom.... + </p> + <p> + 'Well, old man,' queried Avdey, 'own up now you didn't expect + it, and now you feel put out. Eh? jealous? Own up, Fedya. Eh? + eh?' + </p> + <p> + Kister was about to speak out, but he turned with his face to + the wall. 'Speak openly... to him? Not for anything!' he + whispered to himself. 'He wouldn't understand me... so be it! + He supposes none but evil feelings in me—so be it!...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey got up. + </p> + <p> + 'I see you're sleepy,' he said with assumed sympathy: 'I + don't want to be in your way. Pleasant dreams, my boy... + pleasant dreams!' + </p> + <p> + And Lutchkov went away, very well satisfied with himself. + </p> + <p> + Kister could not get to sleep before the morning. With + feverish persistence he turned over and over and thought over + and over the same single idea—an occupation only too + well known to unhappy lovers. + </p> + <p> + 'Even if Lutchkov doesn't care for her,' he mused, 'if she + has flung herself at his head, anyway he ought not even with + me, with his friend, to speak so disrespectfully, so + offensively of her! In what way is she to blame? How could + any one have no feeling for a poor, inexperienced girl? + </p> + <p> + 'But can she really have a secret appointment with him? She + has—yes, she certainly has. Avdey's not a liar, he + never tells a lie. But perhaps it means nothing, a mere + freak.... + </p> + <p> + 'But she does not know him.... He is capable, I dare say, of + insulting her. After to-day, I wouldn't answer for + anything.... And wasn't it I myself that praised him up and + exalted him? Wasn't it I who excited her curiosity?... But + who could have known this? Who could have foreseen it?... + </p> + <p> + 'Foreseen what? Has he so long ceased to be my friend?... + But, after all, was he ever my friend? What a disenchantment! + What a lesson!' + </p> + <p> + All the past turned round and round before Kister's eyes. + 'Yes, I did like him,' he whispered at last. 'Why has my + liking cooled so suddenly?... And do I dislike him? No, why + did I ever like him? I alone?' + </p> + <p> + Kister's loving heart had attached itself to Avdey for the + very reason that all the rest avoided him. But the + good-hearted youth did not know himself how great his + good-heartedness was. + </p> + <p> + 'My duty,' he went on, 'is to warn Marya Sergievna. But how? + What right have I to interfere in other people's affairs, in + other people's love? How do I know the nature of that love? + Perhaps even in Lutchkov.... No, no!' he said aloud, with + irritation, almost with tears, smoothing out his pillow, + 'that man's stone.... + </p> + <p> + 'It is my own fault... I have lost a friend.... A precious + friend, indeed! And she's not worth much either!... What a + sickening egoist I am! No, no! from the bottom of my soul I + wish them happiness.... Happiness! but he is laughing at + her!... And why does he dye his moustaches? I do, really, + believe he does.... Ah, how ridiculous I am!' he repeated, as + he fell asleep. + </p> + <h3> + VII + </h3> + <p> + The next morning Kister went to call on the Perekatovs. When + they met, Kister noticed a great change in Masha, and Masha, + too, found a change in him, but neither spoke of it. The + whole morning they both, contrary to their habit, felt + uncomfortable. Kister had prepared at home a number of hints + and phrases of double meaning and friendly counsels... but + all this previous preparation turned out to be quite thrown + away. Masha was vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; + she fancied that he pronounced some words with intentional + significance; but she was conscious, too, of her own + excitement, and did not trust her own observations. 'If only + he doesn't mean to stay till evening!' was what she was + thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that + he was not wanted. Kister, for his part, took her awkwardness + and her uneasiness for obvious signs of love, and the more + afraid he was for her the more impossible he found it to + speak of Lutchkov; while Masha obstinately refrained from + uttering his name. It was a painful experience for poor + Fyodor Fedoritch. He began at last to understand his own + feelings. Never had Masha seemed to him more charming. She + had, to all appearances, not slept the whole night. A faint + flush stood in patches on her pale face; her figure was + faintly drooping; an unconscious, weary smile never left her + lips; now and then a shiver ran over her white shoulders; a + soft light glowed suddenly in her eyes, and quickly faded + away. Nenila Makarievna came in and sat with them, and + possibly with intention mentioned Avdey Ivanovitch. But in + her mother's presence Masha was armed <i>jusqu'aux dents,</i> + as the French say, and she did not betray herself at all. So + passed the whole morning. + </p> + <p> + 'You will dine with us?' Nenila Makarievna asked Kister. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'No,' Kister said hurriedly, and he glanced towards Masha. + 'Excuse me... duties of the service...' + </p> + <p> + Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, + following her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I + don't want to be in the way,' Kister wanted to say to Masha, + as he passed her, but he bowed down and whispered instead: + 'Be happy... farewell... take care of yourself...' and was + gone. + </p> + <p> + Masha heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart, and then + felt panic-stricken at his departure. What was it fretting + her? Love or curiosity? God knows; but, we repeat, curiosity + alone was enough to ruin Eve. + </p> + <h3> + VIII + </h3> + <p> + Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground + on the right of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile + from the Perekatovs' property. The left bank, completely + covered by thick young oak bushes, rose steeply up over the + stream, which was almost overgrown with willow bushes, except + for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild ducks. + Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long + Meadow, began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here + and there with old birch-trees, nut bushes, and + guelder-roses. + </p> + <p> + The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the + distance, sounding louder or softer according to the wind. + The seignorial drove of horses was lazily wandering about the + meadows; a shepherd walked, humming a tune, after a flock of + greedy and timorous sheep; the sheepdogs, from boredom, were + running after the crows. Lutchkov walked up and down in the + copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near by, more + than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of + the mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered + and shy, as usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt + wrathful with her and annoyed with himself... but his + excitement smothered his annoyance. He stopped at last before + a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip switching + off the leaves at the ends of the twigs.... + </p> + <p> + He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces + from him stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a + hat, but with no gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily + tied kerchief round her neck. She dropped her eyes instantly, + and softly nodded.... + </p> + <p> + Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile. + </p> + <p> + 'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly. + </p> + <p> + 'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted + breathlessly. 'I usually walk here in the evening... and + you...' + </p> + <p> + But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to + keep up her innocent deception. + </p> + <p> + 'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, + 'you yourself suggested...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see + me, you wanted...' Her voice died away. + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, + and not used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished + to tell you... but, I fancy, you 're not in the humour to + listen to me....' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak.' + </p> + <p> + 'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that + for a long while now, ever since I had the honour of making + your acquaintance...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his + sentence. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... + There's no changing one's destiny...' + </p> + <p> + 'How can one know?...' + </p> + <p> + 'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its + blows!' + </p> + <p> + It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting + moment for Lutchkov to rail against destiny. + </p> + <p> + 'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed + with a smile; 'some even too kind....' + </p> + <p> + 'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I + appreciate your friendliness... I... I... You won't be + angry?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.... What do you want to say?' + </p> + <p> + 'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya + Sergievna, awfully charming....' + </p> + <p> + 'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart + was aching with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. + Lutchkov,' she went on—'look, what a view!' + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening + shadows, and flushed red with the sunset. + </p> + <p> + Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, + Lutchkov began admiring the view. He was standing near + Masha.... + </p> + <p> + 'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of + her little head, looking at him with that friendly, + inquisitive, soft glance, which is a gift only vouchsafed to + young girls. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... + a stroll's pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a + soldier, and fine sentiments are not in my line.' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief + silence followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow. + </p> + <p> + 'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, + though! Come, more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in + a fairly resolute voice. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned to him. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my + side know what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so + to say,... amiably disposed towards my person?' + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do + you know, Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's + not always easy to give a direct answer to a direct + question.' + </p> + <p> + 'Still...' + </p> + <p> + 'But what is it to you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, really now, I want to know...' + </p> + <p> + 'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is + it true?' said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you + have killed more than one man?' + </p> + <p> + 'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he + stroked his moustaches. + </p> + <p> + Masha looked intently at him. + </p> + <p> + 'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood + had caught fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young + and pretty girl had been moving before his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange + voice, 'you know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to + see you for.... You've been so kind.... You tell me, too, at + last what I may hope for....' + </p> + <p> + Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced + sideways at Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense + you do talk,' and gave him the flower. + </p> + <p> + Avdey seized her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'And so you love me!' he cried. + </p> + <p> + Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the + slightest idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she + was not even sure herself as yet whether she did care for + him, and here he was forestalling her, forcing her to speak + out—he must be misunderstanding her then.... This idea + flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head. She had + never expected such a speedy <i>dénouement.</i>... + Masha, like an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all + day: 'Can it be that Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed + of a delightful evening walk, a respectful and tender + dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with him, make + the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at + parting to kiss her hand... and instead of that... + </p> + <p> + Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough + moustaches on her cheek.... + </p> + <p> + 'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other + happiness on earth!' + </p> + <p> + Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale + all over, stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. + Avdey was terribly confused. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me,' he muttered, approaching her, 'I didn't expect + really...' + </p> + <p> + Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless... A + disagreeable smile twisted his lips... patches of red came + out on his face.... + </p> + <p> + 'What are you afraid of?' he went on; 'it's no such great + matter.... Why, we understand each other... and so....' + </p> + <p> + Masha did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Come, stop that!... that's all nonsense! it's nothing + but...' Lutchkov stretched out his hand to her. + </p> + <p> + Masha recollected Kister, his 'take care of yourself,' and, + sinking with terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, + 'Taniusha!' + </p> + <p> + From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid.... + Avdey was completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence + of her hand-maiden, Masha did not stir. But the bully was + shaking all over with rage; his eyes were half closed; he + clenched his fists and laughed nervously. + </p> + <p> + 'Bravo! bravo! Clever trick—no denying that!' he cried + out. + </p> + <p> + Masha was petrified. + </p> + <p> + 'So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya + Sergievna! Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! + Nowadays young ladies see further than old men. So this is + all your love amounts to!' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to + speak about love... what love?' + </p> + <p> + 'Who? Why, you yourself!' Lutchkov cut her short: 'what + next!' He felt he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but + he could not restrain himself. + </p> + <p> + 'I have acted thoughtlessly,' said Masha.... 'I yielded to + your request, relying upon your <i>délicatesse</i>... + but you don't know French... on your courtesy, I mean....' + </p> + <p> + Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know French... may be; but I know... I know very + well that you have been amusing yourself at my expense.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch... indeed, I'm very sorry...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, please, don't talk about being sorry for me,' Avdey cut + her short peremptorily; 'spare me that, anyway!' + </p> + <p> + 'Mr. Lutchkov...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, you needn't put on those grand-duchess airs... It's + trouble thrown away! you don't impress me.' + </p> + <p> + Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked + away. + </p> + <p> + 'Won't you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd + lad, your tender sweet-heart, Kister,' Avdey shouted after + her. He had lost his head. 'Isn't he the happy man?'... + </p> + <p> + Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She + felt light at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. + She felt as though she had waked up from a troubled sleep, + had stepped out of a dark room into air and sunshine.... + Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless frenzy he + broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously + drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at + the reins that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a + quarter of an hour and almost expired the same night. + </p> + <p> + Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next + morning he went round himself to see him. The orderly + informed Fyodor Fedoritch that his master was lying down and + had given orders that he would see no one. 'He won't see me + even?'. 'Not even your honour.' Kister walked twice up and + down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and + then went home again. His servant handed him a note. + </p> + <p> + 'From whom?' + </p> + <p> + 'From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.' + </p> + <p> + Kister's hands began to tremble. + </p> + <p> + 'He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to + wait for your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + </p> + <p> + Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows: + </p> + <p> + 'DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,—I want very, very much to + see you. Come to-day, if you can. Don't refuse my request, I + entreat you, for the sake of our old friendship. If only you + knew... but you shall know everything. Good-bye for a little + while,—eh? + </p> + <p> + MARIE. + </p> + <p> + 'P.S.—Be sure to come to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?' + </p> + <p> + Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant's + countenance, and went out without uttering a word. + </p> + <p> + 'The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a + drink with you,' said Kister's servant to Artiomka the + postillion. + </p> + <h3> + IX + </h3> + <p> + Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet + Kister, when he came into the drawing-room, she pressed his + hand so warmly and affectionately, that his heart throbbed + with delight, and a weight seemed rolled from his mind. Masha + did not, however, say a single word, and she promptly left + the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the sofa, playing + patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not + yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the + conversation round from all extraneous topics to his dog, + when Masha reappeared, wearing a plaid silk sash, Kister's + favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and gave Fyodor + Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all + laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up + spirit and described one of the merriest pranks of his + youthful days, hiding his head from his wife like an ostrich, + as he told the story. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Masha said to + Kister after dinner with that note of affectionate authority + in her voice which is, as it were, conscious that you will + gladly submit to it. 'I want to talk to you about something + very, very important,' she added with enchanting solemnity, + as she put on her suede gloves. 'Are you coming with us, + <i>maman</i>?' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' answered Nenila Makarievna. + </p> + <p> + 'But we are not going into the garden.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where then?' + </p> + <p> + 'To Long Meadow, to the copse.' + </p> + <p> + 'Take Taniusha with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Taniusha, Taniusha!' Masha cried musically, flitting lightly + as a bird from the room. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister into the + Long Meadow. As she passed the cattle, she gave a piece of + bread to her favourite cow, patted it on the head and made + Kister stroke it. Masha was in great good humour and chatted + merrily. Kister responded willingly, though he awaited + explanations with impatience.... Taniusha walked behind at a + respectful distance, only from time to time stealing a sly + glance at her young lady. + </p> + <p> + 'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?' + </p> + <p> + 'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?' + </p> + <p> + 'You were out of humour... that was all.' + </p> + <p> + 'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. + That's right.... You were out of humour too.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I was too.' + </p> + <p> + 'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I think so, to-day...' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you know why? Because...' + </p> + <p> + Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because + I am with you,' she added, not looking at Kister. + </p> + <p> + Kister softly pressed her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an + undertone. + </p> + <p> + 'What about?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was waiting for...' + </p> + <p> + 'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him + impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, + because you are incapable... <i>parceque vous avez de la + délicatesse</i>. One can say that to you: you + understand French.' + </p> + <p> + Kister did understand French, but he did not in the least + understand Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is!' Masha + admired it, and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from + his arm, with an anxious smile she began carefully sticking + the tender stalk in the buttonhole of Kister's coat. Her + slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at the + fingers and then at her. She nodded her head to him as though + to say 'you may.'... Kister bent down and kissed the tips of + her gloves. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile they drew near the already familiar copse. Masha + became suddenly more thoughtful, and at last kept silent + altogether. They came to the very place where Lutchkov had + waited for her. The trampled grass had not yet grown straight + again; the broken sapling had not yet withered, its little + leaves were only just beginning to curl up and fade. Masha + stared about her, and turned quickly to Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know why I have brought you here?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I don't.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you know? Why is it you haven't told me anything about + your friend Lutchkov to-day? You always praise him so...' + </p> + <p> + Kister dropped his eyes, and did not speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you know,' Masha brought out with some effort, 'that I + made... an appointment... to meet him here... yesterday?' + </p> + <p> + 'I know that,' Kister rejoined hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + 'You know it?... Ah! now I see why the day before + yesterday... Mr. Lutchkov was in a hurry it seems to boast of + his <i>conquest</i>.' + </p> + <p> + Kister was about to answer.... + </p> + <p> + 'Don't speak, don't say anything in opposition.... I know + he's your friend. You are capable of taking his part. You + knew, Kister, you knew.... How was it you didn't prevent me + from acting so stupidly? Why didn't you box my ears, as if I + were a child? You knew... and didn't you care?' + </p> + <p> + 'But what right had I...' + </p> + <p> + 'What right!... the right of a friend. But he too is your + friend.... I'm ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That + man behaved to me yesterday, as if...' + </p> + <p> + Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, + don't be angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of + yesterday's explanation... yes, that's just what it was,' + added Masha. 'What do you suppose I am telling you about it + for? To complain of Mr. Lutchkov? Nonsense! I've forgotten + about him. But I have done you a wrong, my good friend.... I + want to speak openly to you, to ask your forgiveness... your + advice. You have accustomed me to frankness; I am at ease + with you.... You are not a Mr. Lutchkov!' + </p> + <p> + 'Lutchkov is clumsy and coarse,' Kister brought out with + difficulty; 'but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Why <i>but</i>? Aren't you ashamed to say <i>but</i>? He is + coarse, <i>and</i> clumsy, <i>and</i> ill-natured, <i>and</i> + conceited.... Do you hear?—<i>and</i>, not <i>but</i>.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are speaking under the influence of anger, Marya + Sergievna,' Kister observed mournfully. + </p> + <p> + 'Anger? A strange sort of anger! Look at me; are people like + this when they 're angry? Listen,' pursued Masha; 'you may + think what you like of me... but if you imagine I am flirting + with you to-day from pique, well... well...' (tears stood in + her eyes)'I shall be angry in earnest.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do be open with me, Marya Sergievna...' + </p> + <p> + 'O, silly fellow! how slow you are! Why, look at me, am I not + open with you, don't you see right through me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, very well... yes; I believe you,' Kister said with a + smile, seeing with what anxious insistence she tried to catch + his eyes. 'But tell me, what induced you to arrange to meet + Lutchkov?' + </p> + <p> + 'What induced me? I really don't know. He wanted to speak to + me alone. I fancied he had never had time, never had an + opportunity to speak freely. He has spoken freely now! Do you + know, he may be an extraordinary man, but he's a fool, + really.... He doesn't know how to put two words together. + He's simply an ignoramus. Though, indeed, I don't blame him + much... he might suppose I was a giddy, mad, worthless girl. + I hardly ever talked to him.... He did excite my curiosity, + certainly, but I imagined that a man who was worthy of being + your friend...' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't, please, speak of him as my friend,' Kister + interposed. + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, I don't want to separate you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, my God, for you I'm ready to sacrifice more than a + friend.... Everything is over between me and Mr. Lutchkov,' + Kister added hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + Masha looked intently into his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, enough of him,' she said. 'Don't let us talk of him. + It's a lesson to me for the future. It's I that am to blame. + For several months past I have almost every day seen a man + who is good, clever, bright, friendly who...' (Masha was + confused, and stammered) 'who, I think, cared... a little... + for me too... and I like a fool,' she went on quickly, + 'preferred to him... no, no, I didn't prefer him, but...' + </p> + <p> + She drooped her head, and ceased speaking in confusion. + </p> + <p> + Kister was in a sort of terror. 'It can't be!' he kept + repeating to himself. + </p> + <p> + 'Marya Sergievna!' he began at last. + </p> + <p> + Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with + unshed tears. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't guess of whom I am speaking?' she asked. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha + at once clutched it warmly. + </p> + <p> + 'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you + answer?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am your friend, you know that,' he murmured. + </p> + <p> + 'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You + understand me? You're not laughing at a girl who made an + appointment only yesterday with one man, and to-day is + talking to another, as I am talking to you.... You're not + laughing at me, are you?...' Masha's face glowed crimson, she + clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... + </p> + <p> + 'Laugh at you,' answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love + you... I love you,' he cried. + </p> + <p> + Masha hid her face. + </p> + <p> + 'Surely you've long known that I love you, Marya Sergievna?' + </p> + <h3> + X + </h3> + <p> + Three weeks after this interview, Kister was sitting alone in + his room, writing the following letter to his mother:— + </p> + <p> + Dearest Mother!—I make haste to share my great + happiness with you; I am going to get married. This news will + probably only surprise you from my not having, in my previous + letters, even hinted at so important a change in my + life—and you know that I am used to sharing all my + feelings, my joys and my sorrows, with you. My reasons for + silence are not easy to explain to you. To begin with, I did + not know till lately that I was loved; and on my own side + too, it is only lately that I have realised myself all the + strength of my own feeling. In one of my first letters from + here, I wrote to you of our neighbours, the Perekatovs; I am + engaged to their only daughter, Marya. I am thoroughly + convinced that we shall both be happy. My feeling for her is + not a fleeting passion, but a deep and genuine emotion, in + which friendship is mingled with love. Her bright, gentle + disposition is in perfect harmony with my tastes. She is + well-educated, clever, plays the piano splendidly.... If you + could only see her! I enclose her portrait sketched by me. I + need hardly say she is a hundred times better-looking than + her portrait. Masha loves you already, like a daughter, and + is eagerly looking forward to seeing you. I mean to retire, + to settle in the country, and to go in for farming. Mr. + Perekatov has a property of four hundred serfs in excellent + condition. You see that even from the material point of view, + you cannot but approve of my plans. I will get leave and come + to Moscow and to you. Expect me in a fortnight, not later. My + own dearest mother, how happy I am!... Kiss me...' and so on. + </p> + <p> + Kister folded and sealed the letter, got up, went to the + window, lighted a pipe, thought a little, and returned to the + table. He took out a small sheet of notepaper, carefully + dipped his pen into the ink, but for a long while he did not + begin to write, knitted his brows, lifted his eyes to the + ceiling, bit the end of his pen.... At last he made up his + mind, and in the course of a quarter of an hour he had + composed the following: + </p> + <p> + 'Dear Avdey Ivanovitch,—Since the day of your last + visit (that is, for three weeks) you have sent me no message, + have not said a word to me, and have seemed to avoid meeting + me. Every one is, undoubtedly, free to act as he pleases; you + have chosen to break off our acquaintance, and I do not, + believe me, in addressing you intend to reproach you in any + way. It is not my intention or my habit to force myself upon + any one whatever; it is enough for me to feel that I am not + to blame in the matter. I am writing to you now from a + feeling of duty. I have made an offer to Marya Sergievna + Perekatov, and have been accepted by her, and also by her + parents. I inform <i>you</i> of this fact—directly and + immediately—to avoid any kind of misapprehension or + suspicion. I frankly confess, sir, that I am unable to feel + great concern about the good opinion of a man who himself + shows so little concern for the opinions and feelings of + other people, and I am writing to you solely because I do not + care in this matter even to appear to have acted or to be + acting underhandedly. I make bold to say, you know me, and + will not ascribe my present action to any other lower motive. + Addressing you for the last time, I cannot, for the sake of + our old friendship, refrain from wishing you all good things + possible on earth.—I remain, sincerely, your obedient + servant, Fyodor Kister.' + </p> + <p> + Fyodor Fedoritch despatched this note to the address, changed + his uniform, and ordered his carriage to be got ready. + Light-hearted and happy, he walked up and down his little + room humming, even gave two little skips in the air, twisted + a book of songs into a roll, and was tying it up with blue + ribbon.... The door opened, and Lutchkov, in a coat without + epaulettes, with a cap on his head, came into the room. + Kister, astounded, stood still in the middle of the room, + without finishing the bow he was tying. + </p> + <p> + 'So you're marrying the Perekatov girl?' queried Avdey in a + calm voice. + </p> + <p> + Kister fired up. + </p> + <p> + 'Sir,' he began; 'decent people take off their caps and say + good-morning when they come into another man's room.' + </p> + <p> + 'Beg pardon,' the bully jerked out; and he took off his cap. + 'Good-morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Mr. Lutchkov. You ask me if I am about to + marry Miss Perekatov? Haven't you read my letter, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'I have read your letter. You're going to get married. I + congratulate you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I accept your congratulation, and thank you for it. But I + must be starting.' + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to have a few words of explanation with you, + Fyodor Fedoritch.' + </p> + <p> + 'By all means, with pleasure,' responded the good-natured + fellow. 'I must own I was expecting such an explanation. Your + behaviour to me has been so strange, and I think, on my side, + I have not deserved... at least, I had no reason to expect... + But won't you sit down? Wouldn't you like a pipe?' + </p> + <p> + Lutchkov sat down. There was a certain weariness perceptible + in his movements. He stroked his moustaches and lifted his + eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Fyodor Fedoritch,' he began at last; 'why did you + keep it up with me so long?...' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why did you pose as such... a disinterested being, when you + were just such another as all the rest of us sinners all the + while?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't understand you.... Can I have wounded you in some + way?...' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand me... all right. I'll try and speak + more plainly. Just tell me, for instance, openly, Have you + had a liking for the Perekatov girl all along, or is it a + case of sudden passion?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should prefer, Avdey Ivanitch, not to discuss with you my + relations with Marya Sergievna,' Kister responded coldly. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, indeed! As you please. Only you'll kindly allow me to + believe that you've been humbugging me.' + </p> + <p> + Avdey spoke very deliberately and emphatically. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't believe that, Avdey Ivanitch; you know me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know you?... who knows you? The heart of another is a dark + forest, and the best side of goods is always turned + uppermost. I know you read German poetry with great feeling + and even with tears in your eyes; I know that you've hung + various maps on your walls; I know you keep your person + clean; that I know,... but beyond that, I know nothing...' + </p> + <p> + Kister began to lose his temper. + </p> + <p> + 'Allow me to inquire,' he asked at last, 'what is the object + of your visit? You have sent no message to me for three + weeks, and now you come to me, apparently with the intention + of jeering at me. I am not a boy, sir, and I do not allow any + one...' + </p> + <p> + 'Mercy on us,' Lutchkov interrupted him; 'mercy on us, Fyodor + Fedoritch, who would venture to jeer at you? It's quite the + other way; I've come to you with a most humble request, that + is, that you'd do me the favour to explain your behaviour to + me. Allow me to ask you, wasn't it you who forced me to make + the acquaintance of the Perekatov family? Didn't you assure + your humble servant that it would make his soul blossom into + flower? And lastly, didn't you throw me with the virtuous + Marya Sergievna? Why am I not to presume that it's to + <i>you</i> I'm indebted for that final agreeable scene, of + which you have doubtless been informed in befitting fashion? + An engaged girl, of course, tells her betrothed of + everything, especially of her <i>innocent</i> indiscretions. + How can I help supposing that it's thanks to you I've been + made such a terrific fool of? You took such a mighty interest + in my "blossoming out," you know!' + </p> + <p> + Kister walked up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Look here, Lutchkov,' he said at last; 'if you + really—joking apart—are convinced of what you + say, which I confess I don't believe, then let me tell you, + it's shameful and wicked of you to put such an insulting + construction on my conduct and intentions. I don't want to + justify myself... I appeal to your own conscience, to your + memory.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; I remember you were continually whispering with Marya + Sergievna. Besides that, let me ask you another question: + Weren't you at the Perekatovs' after a certain conversation + with me, after that evening when I like a fool chattered to + you, thinking you my greatest friend, of the meeting she'd + arranged?' + </p> + <p> + 'What! you suspect me...' + </p> + <p> + 'I suspect other people of nothing,' Avdey cut him short with + cutting iciness, 'of which I would not suspect myself; but I + have the weakness to suppose that other men are no better + than I am.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are mistaken,' Kister retorted emphatically; 'other men + are better than you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I congratulate them upon it,' Lutchkov dropped carelessly; + 'but...' + </p> + <p> + 'But remember,' broke in Kister, now in his turn thoroughly + infuriated, 'in what terms you spoke of... of that meeting... + of... But these explanations are leading to nothing, I + see.... Think what you choose of me, and act as you think + best.' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, that's better,' observed Avdey. 'At last you're + beginning to speak plainly.' + </p> + <p> + 'As you think best,' repeated Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'I understand your position, Fyodor Fedoritch,' Avdey went on + with an affectation of sympathy; 'it's disagreeable, + certainly. A man has been acting, acting a part, and no one + has recognised him as a humbug; and all of a sudden...' + </p> + <p> + 'If I could believe,' Kister interrupted, setting his teeth, + 'that it was wounded love that makes you talk like this, I + should feel sorry for you; I could excuse you.... But in your + abuse, in your false charges, I hear nothing but the shriek + of mortified pride... and I feel no sympathy for you.... You + have deserved what you've got.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ugh, mercy on us, how the fellow talks!' Avdey murmured. + 'Pride,' he went on; 'may be; yes, yes, my pride, as you say, + has been mortified intensely and insufferably. But who isn't + proud? Aren't you? Yes, I'm proud, and for instance, I permit + no one to feel sorry for me....' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't permit it!' Kister retorted haughtily. 'What an + expression, sir! Don't forget, the tie between us you + yourself have broken. I must beg you to behave with me as + with a complete outsider.' + </p> + <p> + 'Broken! Broken the tie between us!' repeated Avdey. + 'Understand me; I have sent you no message, and have not been + to see you because I was sorry for you; you must allow me to + be sorry for you, since you 're sorry for me!... I didn't + want to put you in a false position, to make your conscience + prick.... You talk of a tie between us... as though you could + remain my friend as before your marriage! Rubbish! Why, you + were only friendly with me before to gloat over your fancied + superiority...' + </p> + <p> + Avdey's duplicity overwhelmed, confounded Kister. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us end this unpleasant conversation!' he cried at last. + 'I must own I don't see why you've been pleased to come to + me.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't see what I've come to you for?' Avdey asked + inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + 'I certainly don't see why.' + </p> + <p> + 'N—o?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I tell you...' + </p> + <p> + 'Astonishing!... This is astonishing! Who'd have thought it + of a fellow of your intelligence!' + </p> + <p> + 'Come, speak plainly...' + </p> + <p> + 'I have come, Mr. Kister,' said Avdey, slowly rising to his + feet, 'I have come to challenge you to a duel. Do you + understand now? I want to fight you. Ah! you thought you + could get rid of me like that! Why, didn't you know the sort + of man you have to do with? As if I'd allow...' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good,' Kister cut in coldly and abruptly. 'I accept + your challenge. Kindly send me your second.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes,' pursued Avdey, who, like a cat, could not bear to + let his victim go so soon: 'it'll give me great pleasure I'll + own to put a bullet into your fair and idealistic countenance + to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'You are abusive after a challenge, it seems,' Kister + rejoined contemptuously. 'Be so good as to go. I'm ashamed of + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, to be sure, <i>délicatesse</i>!... Ah, Marya + Sergievna, I don't know French!' growled Avdey, as he put on + his cap. 'Till we meet again, Fyodor Fedoritch!' + </p> + <p> + He bowed and walked out. + </p> + <p> + Kister paced several times up and down the room. His face + burned, his breast heaved violently. He felt neither fear nor + anger; but it sickened him to think what this man really was + that he had once looked upon as a friend. The idea of the + duel with Lutchkov was almost pleasant to him.... Once get + free from the past, leap over this rock in his path, and then + to float on an untroubled tide... 'Good,' he thought, 'I + shall be fighting to win my happiness.' Masha's image seemed + to smile to him, to promise him success. 'I'm not going to be + killed! not I!' he repeated with a serene smile. On the table + lay the letter to his mother.... He felt a momentary pang at + his heart. He resolved any way to defer sending it off. There + was in Kister that quickening of the vital energies of which + a man is aware in face of danger. He calmly thought over all + the possible results of the duel, mentally placed Masha and + himself in all the agonies of misery and parting, and looked + forward to the future with hope. He swore to himself not to + kill Lutchkov... He felt irresistibly drawn to Masha. He + paused a second, hurriedly arranged things, and directly + after dinner set off to the Perekatovs. All the evening + Kister was in good spirits, perhaps in too good spirits. + </p> + <p> + Masha played a great deal on the piano, felt no foreboding of + evil, and flirted charmingly with him. At first her + unconsciousness wounded him, then he took Masha's very + unconsciousness as a happy omen, and was rejoiced and + reassured by it. She had grown fonder and fonder of him every + day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than + passion. Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated + desires, and she renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila + Makarievna loved Kister like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual + followed his wife's lead. + </p> + <p> + 'Till we meet,' Masha said to Kister, following him into the + hall and gazing at him with a soft smile, as he slowly and + tenderly kissed her hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Till we meet,' Fyodor Fedoritch repeated confidently; 'till + we meet.' + </p> + <p> + But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' + house, he stood up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness + began looking for the lighted windows.... All in the house + was dark as in the tomb. + </p> + <h3> + XI + </h3> + <p> + Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an + old major of tried merit, came for him. The good old man + growled to himself, bit his grey moustaches, and wished Avdey + Ivanovitch everything unpleasant.... The carriage was brought + to the door. Kister handed the major two letters, one for his + mother, the other for Masha. + </p> + <p> + 'What's this for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, one can never tell...' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense! we'll shoot him like a partridge...' + </p> + <p> + 'Any way it's better...' + </p> + <p> + The major with vexation stuffed the two letters in the side + pocket of his coat. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us start.' + </p> + <p> + They set off. In a small copse, a mile and a half from the + village of Kirilovo, Lutchkov was awaiting them with his + former friend, the perfumed adjutant. It was lovely weather, + the birds were twittering peacefully; not far from the copse + a peasant was tilling the ground. While the seconds were + marking out the distance, fixing the barrier, examining and + loading the pistols, the opponents did not even glance at one + another.... Kister walked to and fro with a careless air, + swinging a flower he had gathered; Avdey stood motionless, + with folded arms and scowling brow. The decisive moment + arrived. 'Begin, gentlemen!' Kister went rapidly towards the + barrier, but he had not gone five steps before Avdey fired, + Kister started, made one more step forward, staggered. His + head sank... His knees bent under him... He fell like a sack + on the grass. The major rushed up to him.... 'Is it + possible?' whispered the dying man. + </p> + <p> + Avdey went up to the man he had killed. On his gloomy and + sunken face was a look of savage, exasperated regret.... He + looked at the adjutant and the major, bent his head like a + guilty man, got on his horse without a word, and rode slowly + straight to the colonel's quarters. + </p> + <p> + Masha... is living to this day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="4"></a> + <h2> + THREE PORTRAITS + </h2> + <p> + 'Neighbours' constitute one of the most serious drawbacks of + life in the country. I knew a country gentleman of the + Vologodsky district, who used on every suitable occasion to + repeat the following words, 'Thank God, I have no + neighbours,' and I confess I could not help envying that + happy mortal. My own little place is situated in one of the + most thickly peopled provinces of Russia. I am surrounded by + a vast number of dear neighbours, from highly respectable and + highly respected country gentlemen, attired in ample + frockcoats and still more ample waistcoats, down to regular + loafers, wearing jackets with long sleeves and a so-called + shooting-bag on their back. In this crowd of gentlefolks I + chanced, however, to discover one very pleasant fellow. He + had served in the army, had retired and settled for good and + all in the country. According to his story, he had served for + two years in the B——— regiment. But I am + totally unable to comprehend how that man could have + performed any sort of duty, not merely for two years, but + even for two days. He was born 'for a life of peace and + country calm,' that is to say, for lazy, careless vegetation, + which, I note parenthetically, is not without great and + inexhaustible charms. He possessed a very fair property, and + without giving too much thought to its management, spent + about ten thousand roubles a year, had obtained an excellent + cook—my friend was fond of good fare—and ordered + too from Moscow all the newest French books and magazines. In + Russian he read nothing but the reports of his bailiff, and + that with great difficulty. He used, when he did not go out + shooting, to wear a dressing-gown from morning till + dinner-time and at dinner. He would look through plans of + some sort, or go round to the stables or to the threshing + barn, and joke with the peasant women, who, to be sure, in + his presence wielded their flails in leisurely fashion. After + dinner my friend would dress very carefully before the + looking-glass, and drive off to see some neighbour possessed + of two or three pretty daughters. He would flirt serenely and + unconcernedly with one of them, play blind-man's-buff with + them, return home rather late and promptly fall into a heroic + sleep. He could never be bored, for he never gave himself up + to complete inactivity; and in the choice of occupations he + was not difficult to please, and was amused like a child with + the smallest trifle. On the other hand, he cherished no + particular attachment to life, and at times, when he chanced + to get a glimpse of the track of a wolf or a fox, he would + let his horse go at full gallop over such ravines that to + this day I cannot understand how it was he did not break his + neck a hundred times over. He belonged to that class of + persons who inspire in one the idea that they do not know + their own value, that under their appearance of indifference + strong and violent passions lie concealed. But he would have + laughed in one's face if he could have guessed that one + cherished such an opinion of him. And indeed I must own I + believe myself that even supposing my friend had had in youth + some strong impulse, however vague, towards what is so + sweetly called 'higher things,' that impulse had long, long + ago died out. He was rather stout and enjoyed superb health. + In our day one cannot help liking people who think little + about themselves, because they are exceedingly rare... and my + friend had almost forgotten his own personality. I fancy, + though, that I have said too much about him already, and my + prolixity is the more uncalled for as he is not the hero of + my story. His name was Piotr Fedorovitch Lutchinov. + </p> + <p> + One autumn day there were five of us, ardent sportsmen, + gathered together at Piotr Fedorovitch's. We had spent the + whole morning out, had run down a couple of foxes and a + number of hares, and had returned home in that supremely + agreeable frame of mind which comes over every well-regulated + person after a successful day's shooting. It grew dusk. The + wind was frolicking over the dark fields and noisily swinging + the bare tops of the birches and lime-trees round Lutchinov's + house. We reached the house, got off our horses.... On the + steps I stood still and looked round: long storm-clouds were + creeping heavily over the grey sky; a dark-brown bush was + writhing in the wind, and murmuring plaintively; the yellow + grass helplessly and forlornly bowed down to the earth; + flocks of thrushes were fluttering in the mountain-ashes + among the bright, flame-coloured clusters of berries. Among + the light brittle twigs of the birch-trees blue-tits hopped + whistling. In the village there was the hoarse barking of + dogs. I felt melancholy... but it was with a genuine sense of + comfort that I walked into the dining-room. The shutters were + closed; on a round table, covered with a tablecloth of + dazzling whiteness, amid cut-glass decanters of red wine, + there were eight lighted candles in silver candlesticks; a + fire glowed cheerfully on the hearth, and an old and very + stately-looking butler, with a huge bald head, wearing an + English dress, stood before another table on which was + pleasingly conspicuous a large soup-tureen, encircled by + light savoury-smelling steam. In the hall we passed by + another venerable man, engaged in icing + champagne—'according to the strictest rules of the + art.' The dinner was, as is usual in such cases, exceedingly + pleasant. We laughed and talked of the incidents of the day's + shooting, and recalled with enthusiasm two glorious 'runs.' + After dining pretty heartily, we settled comfortably into + ample arm-chairs round the fire; a huge silver bowl made its + appearance on the table, and in a few minutes the white flame + of the burning rum announced our host's agreeable intention + 'to concoct a punch.' Piotr Fedoritch was a man of some + taste; he was aware, for instance, that nothing has so fatal + an influence on the fancy as the cold, steady, pedantic light + of a lamp, and so he gave orders that only two candles should + be left in the room. Strange half-shadows quivered on the + walls, thrown by the fanciful play of the fire in the hearth + and the flame of the punch... a soft, exceedingly agreeable + sense of soothing comfort replaced in our hearts the somewhat + boisterous gaiety that had reigned at dinner. + </p> + <p> + Conversations have their destinies, like books, as the Latin + proverb says, like everything in the world. Our conversation + that evening was particularly many-sided and lively. From + details it passed to rather serious general questions, and + lightly and casually came back to the daily incidents of + life.... After chatting a good deal, we suddenly all sank + into silence. At such times they say an angel of peace is + flying over. + </p> + <p> + I cannot say why my companions were silent, but I held my + tongue because my eyes had suddenly come to rest on three + dusty portraits in black wooden frames. The colours were + rubbed and cracked in places, but one could still make out + the faces. The portrait in the centre was that of a young + woman in a white gown with lace ruffles, her hair done up + high, in the style of the eighties of last century. On her + right, upon a perfectly black background, there stood out the + full, round face of a good-natured country gentleman of + five-and-twenty, with a broad, low brow, a thick nose, and a + good-humoured smile. The French powdered coiffure was utterly + out of keeping with the expression of his Slavonic face. The + artist had portrayed him wearing a long loose coat of crimson + colour with large paste buttons; in his hand he was holding + some unlikely-looking flower. The third portrait, which was + the work of some other more skilful hand, represented a man + of thirty, in the green uniform, with red facings, of the + time of Catherine, in a white shirt, with a fine cambric + cravat. One hand leaned on a gold-headed cane, the other lay + on his shirt front. His dark, thinnish face was full of + insolent haughtiness. The fine long eyebrows almost grew + together over the pitch-black eyes, about the thin, scarcely + discernible lips played an evil smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Why do you keep staring at those faces?' Piotr Fedoritch + asked me. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I don't know!' I answered, looking at him. + </p> + <p> + 'Would you care to hear a whole story about those three + persons?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, please tell it,' we all responded with one voice. + </p> + <p> + Piotr Fedoritch got up, took a candle, carried it to the + portraits, and in the tone of a showman at a wild beast show, + 'Gentlemen!' he boomed, 'this lady was the adopted child of + my great-grandfather, Olga Ivanovna N.N., called Lutchinov, + who died forty years ago unmarried. This gentleman,' he + pointed to the portrait of a man in uniform, 'served as a + lieutenant in the Guards, Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov, + expired by the will of God in the year seventeen hundred and + ninety. And this gentleman, to whom I have not the honour of + being related, is a certain Pavel Afanasiitch Rogatchov, + serving nowhere, as far as I'm aware.... Kindly take note of + the hole in his breast, just on the spot where the heart + should be. That hole, you see, a regular three-sided hole, + would be hardly likely to have come there by chance.... Now, + 'he went on in his usual voice, 'kindly seat yourselves, arm + yourselves with patience, and listen.' + </p> + <p> + Gentlemen! (he began) I come of a rather old family. I am not + proud of my descent, seeing that my ancestors were all + fearful prodigals. Though that reproach cannot indeed be made + against my great-grandfather, Ivan Andreevitch Lutchinov; on + the contrary, he had the character of being excessively + careful, even miserly—at any rate, in the latter years + of his life. He spent his youth in Petersburg, and lived + through the reign of Elizabeth. In Petersburg he married, and + had by his wife, my great-grandmother, four children, three + sons, Vassily, Ivan, and Pavel, my grandfather, and one + daughter, Natalia. In addition, Ivan Andreevitch took into + his family the daughter of a distant relation, a nameless and + destitute orphan—Olga Ivanovna, of whom I spoke just + now. My great-grandfather's serfs were probably aware of his + existence, for they used (when nothing particularly unlucky + occurred) to send him a trifling rent, but they had never + seen his face. The village of Lutchinovka, deprived of the + bodily presence of its lord, was flourishing exceedingly, + when all of a sudden one fine morning a cumbrous old family + coach drove into the village and stopped before the elder's + hut. The peasants, alarmed at such an unheard-of occurrence, + ran up and saw their master and mistress and all their young + ones, except the eldest, Vassily, who was left behind in + Petersburg. From that memorable day down to the very day of + his death, Ivan Andreevitch never left Lutchinovka. He built + himself a house, the very house in which I have the pleasure + of conversing with you at this moment. He built a church too, + and began living the life of a country gentleman. Ivan + Andreevitch was a man of immense height, thin, silent, and + very deliberate in all his movements. He never wore a + dressing-gown, and no one but his valet had ever seen him + without powder. Ivan Andreevitch usually walked with his + hands clasped behind his back, turning his head at each step. + Every day he used to walk in a long avenue of lime-trees, + which he had planted with his own hand; and before his death + he had the pleasure of enjoying the shade of those trees. + Ivan Andreevitch was exceedingly sparing of his words; a + proof of his taciturnity is to be found in the remarkable + fact that in the course of twenty years he had not said a + single word to his wife, Anna Pavlovna. His relations with + Anna Pavlovna altogether were of a very curious sort. She + directed the whole management of the household; at dinner she + always sat beside her husband—he would mercilessly have + chastised any one who had dared to say a disrespectful word + to her—and yet he never spoke to her, never touched her + hand. Anna Pavlovna was a pale, broken-spirited woman, + completely crushed. She prayed every day on her knees in + church, and she never smiled. There was a rumour that they + had formerly, that is, before they came into the country, + lived on very cordial terms with one another. They did say + too that Anna Pavlovna had been untrue to her matrimonial + vows; that her conduct had come to her husband's + knowledge.... Be that as it may, any way Ivan Andreevitch, + even when dying, was not reconciled to her. During his last + illness, she never left him; but he seemed not to notice her. + One night, Anna Pavlovna was sitting in Ivan Andreevitch's + bedroom—he suffered from sleeplessness—a lamp was + burning before the holy picture. My grandfather's servant, + Yuditch, of whom I shall have to say a few words later, went + out of the room. Anna Pavlovna got up, crossed the room, and + sobbing flung herself on her knees at her husband's bedside, + tried to say something—stretched out her hands... Ivan + Andreevitch looked at her, and in a faint voice, but + resolutely, called, 'Boy!' The servant went in; Anna Pavlovna + hurriedly rose, and went back, tottering, to her place. + </p> + <p> + Ivan Andreevitch's children were exceedingly afraid of him. + They grew up in the country, and were witnesses of Ivan + Andreevitch's strange treatment of his wife. They all loved + Anna Pavlovna passionately, but did not dare to show their + love. She seemed of herself to hold aloof from them.... You + remember my grandfather, gentlemen; to the day of his death + he always walked on tiptoe, and spoke in a whisper... such is + the force of habit! My grandfather and his brother, Ivan + Ivanovitch, were simple, good-hearted people, quiet and + depressed. My grand'tante Natalia married, as you are aware, + a coarse, dull-witted man, and all her life she cherished an + unutterable, slavish, sheep-like passion for him. But their + brother Vassily was not of that sort. I believe I said that + Ivan Andreevitch had left him in Petersburg. He was then + twelve. His father confided him to the care of a distant + kinsman, a man no longer young, a bachelor, and a terrible + Voltairean. + </p> + <p> + Vassily grew up and went into the army. He was not tall, but + was well-built and exceedingly elegant; he spoke French + excellently, and was renowned for his skilful swordsmanship. + He was considered one of the most brilliant young men of the + beginning of the reign of Catherine. My father used often to + tell me that he had known more than one old lady who could + not refer to Vassily Ivanovitch Lutchinov without heartfelt + emotion. Picture to yourselves a man endowed with exceptional + strength of will, passionate and calculating, persevering and + daring, reserved in the extreme, and—according to the + testimony of all his contemporaries—fascinatingly, + captivatingly attractive. He had no conscience, no heart, no + principle, though no one could have called him positively a + bad-hearted man. He was vain, but knew how to disguise his + vanity, and passionately cherished his independence. When + Vassily Ivanovitch would half close his black eyes, smiling + affectionately, when he wanted to fascinate any one, they say + it was impossible to resist him; and even people, thoroughly + convinced of the coldness and hardness of his heart, were + more than once vanquished by the bewitching power of his + personal influence. He served his own interests devotedly, + and made other people, too, work for his advantage; and he + was always successful in everything, because he never lost + his head, never disdained using flattery as a means, and well + understood how to use it. + </p> + <p> + Ten years after Ivan Andreevitch had settled in the country, + he came for a four months' visit to Lutchinovka, a brilliant + officer of the Guards, and in that time succeeded positively + in turning the head of the grim old man, his father. Strange + to say, Ivan Andreevitch listened with enjoyment to his son's + stories of some of his <i>conquests</i>. His brothers were + speechless in his presence, and admired him as a being of a + higher order. And Anna Pavlovna herself became almost fonder + of him than any of her other children who were so sincerely + devoted to her. + </p> + <p> + Vassily Ivanovitch had come down into the country primarily + to visit his people, but also with the second object of + getting as much money as possible from his father. He lived + sumptuously in the glare of publicity in Petersburg, and had + made a mass of debts. He had no easy task to get round his + father's miserliness, and though Ivan Andreevitch gave him on + this one visit probably far more money than he gave all his + other children together during twenty years spent under his + roof, Vassily followed the well-known Russian rule, 'Get what + you can!' + </p> + <p> + Ivan Andreevitch had a servant called Yuditch, just such + another tall, thin, taciturn person as his master. They say + that this man Yuditch was partly responsible for Ivan + Andreevitch's strange behaviour with Anna Pavlovna; they say + he discovered my great-grandmother's guilty intrigue with one + of my great-grandfather's dearest friends. Most likely + Yuditch deeply regretted his ill-timed jealousy, for it would + be difficult to conceive a more kind-hearted man. His memory + is held in veneration by all my house-serfs to this day. My + great-grandfather put unbounded confidence in Yuditch. In + those days landowners used to have money, but did not put it + into the keeping of banks, they kept it themselves in chests, + under their floors, and so on. Ivan Andreevitch kept all his + money in a great wrought-iron coffer, which stood under the + head of his bed. The key of this coffer was intrusted to + Yuditch. Every evening as he went to bed Ivan Andreevitch + used to bid him open the coffer in his presence, used to tap + in turn each of the tightly filled bags with a stick, and + every Saturday he would untie the bags with Yuditch, and + carefully count over the money. Vassily heard of all these + doings, and burned with eagerness to overhaul the sacred + coffer. In the course of five or six days he had + <i>softened</i> Yuditch, that is, he had worked on the old + man till, as they say, he worshipped the ground his young + master trod on. Having thus duly prepared him, Vassily put on + a careworn and gloomy air, for a long while refused to answer + Yuditch's questions, and at last told him that he had lost at + play, and should make an end of himself if he could not get + money somehow. Yuditch broke into sobs, flung himself on his + knees before him, begged him to think of God, not to be his + own ruin. Vassily locked himself in his room without uttering + a word. A little while after he heard some one cautiously + knocking at his door; he opened it, and saw in the doorway + Yuditch pale and trembling, with the key in his hand. Vassily + took in the whole position at a glance. At first, for a long + while, he refused to take it. With tears Yuditch repeated, + 'Take it, your honour, graciously take it!'... Vassily at + last agreed. This took place on Monday. The idea occurred to + Vassily to replace the money taken out with broken bits of + crockery. He reckoned on Ivan Andreevitch's tapping the bags + with his stick, and not noticing the hardly perceptible + difference in the sound, and by Saturday he hoped to obtain + and to replace the sum in the coffer. As he planned, so he + did. His father did not, in fact, notice anything. But by + Saturday Vassily had not procured the money; he had hoped to + win the sum from a rich neighbour at cards, and instead of + that, he lost it all. Meantime, Saturday had come; it came at + last to the turn of the bags filled with broken crocks. + Picture, gentlemen, the amazement of Ivan Andreevitch! + </p> + <p> + 'What does this mean?' he thundered. Yuditch was silent. + </p> + <p> + 'You stole the money?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then some one took the key from you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't give the key to any one.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!' + </p> + <p> + 'I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So + you're deceiving me! For the last time I tell + you—confess!' Yuditch bowed his head and folded his + hands behind his back. + </p> + <p> + 'Hi, lads!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. + 'A stick!' + </p> + <p> + 'What, beat... me?' murmured Yuditch. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a + thief! O Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!' + </p> + <p> + 'I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,' + Yuditch articulated with effort. + </p> + <p> + 'What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your + service!' + </p> + <p> + The servants came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.' Ivan + Andreevitch's lips were white and twitching. He walked up and + down the room like a wild beast in a small cage. + </p> + <p> + The servants did not dare to carry out his orders. + </p> + <p> + 'Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to + undertake him myself, eh?' + </p> + <p> + Yuditch was moving towards the door.... + </p> + <p> + 'Stay!' screamed Ivan Andreevitch. 'Yuditch, for the last + time I tell you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't!' moaned Yuditch. + </p> + <p> + 'Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood + be on my head!' thundered the infuriated old man. The + flogging began.... The door suddenly opened, and Vassily came + in. He was almost paler than his father, his hands were + shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare a row of + even, white teeth. + </p> + <p> + 'I am to blame,' he said in a thick but resolute voice. 'I + took the money.' + </p> + <p> + The servants stopped. + </p> + <p> + 'You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch's consent?' + </p> + <p> + 'No!' said Yuditch, 'with my consent. I gave Vassily + Ivanovitch the key of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily + Ivanovitch! why does your honour trouble?' + </p> + <p> + 'So this is the thief!' shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. 'Thanks, + Vassily, thanks! But, Yuditch, I'm not going to forgive you + anyway. Why didn't you tell me all about it directly? Hey, + you there! why are you standing still? do you too resist my + authority? Ah, I'll settle things with you, my pretty + gentleman!' he added, turning to Vassily. + </p> + <p> + The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch.... + </p> + <p> + 'Don't touch him!' murmured Vassily through his teeth. The + men did not heed him. 'Back!' he shrieked and rushed upon + them.... They stepped back. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! mutiny!' moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his + stick, he approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched + at the handle of his sword, and bared it to half its length. + Every one was trembling. Anna Pavlovna, attracted by the + noise, showed herself at the door, pale and scared. + </p> + <p> + A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. + He tottered, dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an + arm-chair, hiding his face in both hands. No one stirred, all + stood rooted to the spot, Vassily like the rest. He clutched + the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his eyes glittered + with a weary, evil light.... + </p> + <p> + 'Go, all of you... all, out,' Ivan Andreevitch brought out in + a low voice, not taking his hands from his face. + </p> + <p> + The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, + then suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his + mother's hand... and two hours later he had left the place. + He went back to Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the + steps of the house serfs' hut. The servants were all round + him, sympathising with him and bitterly reproaching their + young master. + </p> + <p> + 'That's enough, lads,' he said to them at last, 'give over... + why do you abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare + say is not very happy at his audacity....' + </p> + <p> + In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father + again. Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably + with such a load of sorrow on his heart as God grant none of + us may ever know. Vassily Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into + the world, enjoyed himself in his own way, and squandered + money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I cannot tell + for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart + and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was + passionately attached to him and aided him in all his + numerous manoeuvres. I do not intend to relate in detail all + the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was possessed of such + unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such + inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I + must own I can understand the complete sway that unprincipled + person exercised even over the noblest natures. + </p> + <p> + Soon after his father's death, in spite of his wiliness, + Vassily Ivanovitch was challenged by an injured husband. He + fought a duel, seriously wounded his opponent, and was forced + to leave the capital; he was banished to his estate, and + forbidden to leave it. Vassily Ivanovitch was thirty years + old. You may easily imagine, gentlemen, with what feelings he + left the brilliant life in the capital that he was used to, + and came into the country. They say that he got out of the + hooded cart several times on the road, flung himself face + downwards in the snow and cried. No one in Lutchinovka would + have known him as the gay and charming Vassily Ivanovitch + they had seen before. He did not talk to any one; went out + shooting from morning to night; endured his mother's timid + caresses with undisguised impatience, and was merciless in + his ridicule of his brothers, and of their wives (they were + both married by that time).... + </p> + <p> + I have not so far, I think, told you anything about Olga + Ivanovna. She had been brought as a tiny baby to Lutchinovka; + she all but died on the road. Olga Ivanovna was brought up, + as they say, in the fear of God and her betters. It must be + admitted that Ivan Andreevitch and Anna Pavlovna both treated + her as a daughter. But there lay hid in her soul a faint + spark of that fire which burned so fiercely in Vassily + Ivanovitch. While Ivan Andreevitch's own children did not + dare even to wonder about the cause of the strange, dumb feud + between their parents, Olga was from her earliest years + disturbed and tormented by Anna Pavlovna's position. Like + Vassily, she loved independence; any restriction fretted her. + She was devoted with her whole soul to her benefactress; old + Lutchinov she detested, and more than once, sitting at table, + she shot such black looks at him, that even the servant + handing the dishes felt uncomfortable. Ivan Andreevitch never + noticed these glances, for he never took the slightest notice + of his family. + </p> + <p> + At first Anna Pavlovna had tried to eradicate this hatred, + but some bold questions of Olga's forced her to complete + silence. The children of Ivan Andreevitch adored Olga, and + the old lady too was fond of her, but not with a very ardent + affection. + </p> + <p> + Long continued grieving had crushed all cheerfulness and + every strong feeling in that poor woman; nothing is so clear + a proof of Vassily's captivating charm as that he had made + even his mother love him passionately. Demonstrations of + tenderness on the part of children were not in the spirit of + the age, and so it is not to be wondered at that Olga did not + dare to express her devotion, though she always kissed Anna + Pavlovna's hand with special reverence, when she said + good-night to her. Twenty years later, Russian girls began to + read romances of the class of <i>The Adventures of Marquis + Glagol, Fanfan and Lolotta, Alexey or the Cottage in the + Forest</i>; they began to play the clavichord and to sing + songs in the style of the once very well-known: + </p> + <pre> + 'Men like butterflies in sunshine + Flutter round us opening blossoms,' etc. +</pre> + <p> + But in the seventies of last century (Olga Ivanovna was born + in 1757) our country beauties had no notion of such + accomplishments. It is difficult for us now to form a clear + conception of the Russian miss of those days. We can indeed + judge from our grandmothers of the degree of culture of girls + of noble family in the time of Catherine; but how is one to + distinguish what they had gradually gained in the course of + their long lives from what they were in the days of their + youth? + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna spoke French a little, but with a strong + Russian accent: in her day there was as yet no talk of French + emigrants. In fact, with all her fine qualities, she was + still pretty much of a savage, and I dare say in the + simplicity of her heart, she had more than once chastised + some luckless servant girl with her own hands.... + </p> + <p> + Some time before Vassily Ivanovitch's arrival, Olga Ivanovna + had been betrothed to a neighbour, Pavel Afanasievitch + Rogatchov, a very good-natured and straightforward fellow. + Nature had forgotten to put any spice of ill-temper into his + composition. His own serfs did not obey him, and would + sometimes all go off, down to the least of them, and leave + poor Rogatchov without any dinner... but nothing could + trouble the peace of his soul. From his childhood he had been + stout and indolent, had never been in the government service, + and was fond of going to church and singing in the choir. + Look, gentlemen, at this round, good-natured face; glance at + this mild, beaming smile... don't you really feel it + reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals to + drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with + him his Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every + possible way. Pavlusha grew up, began driving over to call on + Ivan Andreevitch on his own account, fell in love with Olga + Ivanovna, and offered her his hand and heart—not to her + personally, but to her benefactors. Her benefactors gave + their consent. They never even thought of asking Olga + Ivanovna whether she liked Rogatchov. In those days, in the + words of my grandmother, 'such refinements were not the + thing.' Olga soon got used to her betrothed, however; it was + impossible not to feel fond of such a gentle and amiable + creature. Rogatchov had received no education whatever; his + French consisted of the one word <i>bonjour</i>, and he + secretly considered even that word improper. But some jocose + person had taught him the following lines, as a French song: + 'Sonitchka, Sonitchka! Ke-voole-voo-de-mwa—I adore + you—me-je-ne-pyoo-pa....' This supposed song he always + used to hum to himself when he felt in good spirits. His + father was also a man of incredible good-nature, always wore + a long nankin coat, and whatever was said to him he responded + with a smile. From the time of Pavel Afanasievitch's + betrothal, both the Rogatchovs, father and son, had been + tremendously busy. They had been having their house entirely + transformed adding various 'galleries,' talking in a friendly + way with the workmen, encouraging them with drinks. They had + not yet completed all these additions by the winter; they put + off the wedding till the summer. In the summer Ivan + Andreevitch died; the wedding was deferred till the following + spring. In the winter Vassily Ivanovitch arrived. Rogatchov + was presented to him; he received him coldly and + contemptuously, and as time went on, he, so alarmed him by + his haughty behaviour that poor Rogatchov trembled like a + leaf at the very sight of him, was tongue-tied and smiled + nervously. Vassily once almost annihilated him + altogether—by making him a bet, that he, Rogatchov, was + not able to stop smiling. Poor Pavel Afanasievitch almost + cried with, embarrassment, but—actually!—a smile, + a stupid, nervous smile refused to leave his perspiring face! + Vassily toyed deliberately with the ends of his neckerchief, + and looked at him with supreme contempt. Pavel + Afanasievitch's father heard too of Vassily's presence, and + after an interval of a few days—'for the sake of + greater formality'—he sallied off to Lutchinovka with + the object of 'felicitating our honoured guest on his advent + to the halls of his ancestors.' Afanasey Lukitch was famed + all over the countryside for his eloquence—that is to + say, for his capacity for enunciating without faltering a + rather long and complicated speech, with a sprinkling of + bookish phrases in it. Alas! on this occasion he did not + sustain his reputation; he was even more disconcerted than + his son, Pavel Afanasievitch; he mumbled something quite + inarticulate, and though he had never been used to taking + vodka, he at once drained a glass 'to carry things + off'—he found Vassily at lunch,—tried at least to + clear his throat with some dignity, and did not succeed in + making the slightest sound. On their way home, Pavel + Afanasievitch whispered to his parent, 'Well, father?' + Afanasey Lukitch responded angrily also in a whisper, 'Don't + speak of it!' + </p> + <p> + The Rogatchovs began to be less frequent visitors at + Lutchinovka. Though indeed they were not the only people + intimidated by Vassily; he awakened in his own brothers, in + their wives, in Anna Pavlovna herself, an instinctive feeling + of uneasiness and discomfort... they tried to avoid him in + every way they could. Vassily must have noticed this, but + apparently had no intention of altering his behaviour to + them. Suddenly, at the beginning of the spring, he became + once more the charming, attractive person they had known of + old... + </p> + <p> + The first symptom of this sudden transformation was Vassily's + unexpected visit to the Rogatchovs. Afanasey Lukitch, in + particular, was fairly disconcerted at the sight of + Lutchinov's carriage, but his dismay very quickly vanished. + Never had Vassily been more courteous and delightful. He took + young Rogatchov by the arm, went with him to look at the new + buildings, talked to the carpenters, made some suggestions, + with his own hands chopped a few chips off with the axe, + asked to be shown Afanasey Lukitch's stud horses, himself + trotted them out on a halter, and altogether so affected the + good-hearted children of the steppes by his gracious + affability that they both embraced him more than once. At + home, too, Vassily managed, in the course of a few days, to + turn every one's head just as before. He contrived all sorts + of laughable games, got hold of musicians, invited the ladies + and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, told the old ladies the + scandals of the town in the most amusing way, flirted a + little with the young ones, invented unheard-of diversions, + fireworks and such things, in short, he put life into every + thing and every one. The melancholy, gloomy house of the + Lutchinovs was suddenly converted into a noisy, brilliant, + enchanted palace of which the whole countryside was talking. + This sudden transformation surprised many and delighted all. + All sorts of rumours began to be whispered about. Sagacious + persons opined that Vassily Ivanovitch had till then been + crushed under the weight of some secret trouble, that he saw + chances of returning to the capital... but the true cause of + Vassily Ivanovitch's metamorphosis was guessed by no one. + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna, gentlemen, was rather pretty; though her + beauty consisted rather in the extraordinary softness and + freshness of her shape, in the quiet grace of her movements + than in the strict regularity of her features. Nature had + bestowed on her a certain independence; her bringing + up—she had grown up without father or mother—had + developed in her reserve and determination. Olga did not + belong to the class of quiet and tame-spirited young ladies; + but only one feeling had reached its full possibilities in + her as yet—hatred for her benefactor. Other more + feminine passions might indeed flare up in Olga Ivanovna's + heart with abnormal and painful violence... but she had not + the cold pride, nor the intense strength of will, nor the + self-centred egoism, without which any passion passes quickly + away. + </p> + <p> + The first rush of feeling in such half-active, half-passive + natures is sometimes extremely violent; but they give way + very quickly, especially when it is a question of relentless + conformity with accepted principles; they are afraid of + consequences.... And yet, gentlemen, I will frankly confess, + women of that sort always make the strongest impression on + me. ... (At these words the speaker drank a glass of water. + Rubbish! rubbish! thought I, looking at his round chin; + nothing in the world makes a strong impression on you, my + dear fellow!) + </p> + <p> + Piotr Fedoritch resumed: Gentlemen, I believe in blood, in + race. Olga Ivanovna had more blood than, for instance, her + foster sister, Natalia. How did this blood show itself, do + you ask? Why, in everything; in the lines of her hands, in + her lips, in the sound of her voice, in her glance, in her + carriage, in her hair, in the very folds of her gown. In all + these trifles there lay hid something special, though I am + bound to admit that the—how can one express + it?—<i>la distinction</i>, which had fallen to Olga + Pavlovna's share would not have attracted Vassily's notice + had he met her in Petersburg. But in the country, in the + wilds, she not only caught his attention, she was positively + the sole cause of the transformation of which I have just + been speaking. + </p> + <p> + Consider the position. Vassily Ivanovitch liked to enjoy + life; he could not but be bored in the country; his brothers + were good-natured fellows, but extremely limited people: he + had nothing in common with them. His sister, Natalia, with + the assistance of her husband, had brought into the world in + the course of three years no less than four babies; between + her and Vassily was a perfect gulf.... Anna Pavlovna went to + church, prayed, fasted, and was preparing herself for death. + There remained only Olga—a fresh, shy, pretty girl.... + Vassily did not notice her at first... indeed, who does + notice a dependant, an orphan girl kept from charity in the + house?... One day, at the very beginning of spring, Vassily + was walking about the garden, and with his cane slashing off + the heads of the dandelions, those stupid yellow flowers, + which come out first in such numbers in the meadows, as soon + as they begin to grow green. He was walking in the garden in + front of the house; he lifted his head, and caught sight of + Olga Ivanovna. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting sideways at the window, dreamily stroking a + tabby kitten, who, purring and blinking, nestled on her lap, + and with great satisfaction held up her little nose into the + rather hot spring sunshine. Olga Ivanovna was wearing a white + morning gown, with short sleeves; her bare, pale-pink, + girlish shoulders and arms were a picture of freshness and + health. A little red cap discreetly restrained her thick, + soft, silky curls. Her face was a little flushed; she was + only just awake. Her slender, flexible neck bent forward so + charmingly; there was such seductive negligence, such modesty + in the restful pose of her figure, free from corsets, that + Vassily Ivanovitch (a great connoisseur!) halted + involuntarily and peeped in. It suddenly occurred to him that + Olga Ivanovna ought not to be left in her primitive + ignorance; that she might with time be turned into a very + sweet and charming woman. He stole up to the window, + stretched up on tiptoe, and imprinted a silent kiss on Olga + Ivanovna's smooth, white arm, a little below the elbow. + </p> + <p> + Olga shrieked and jumped up, the kitten put its tail in the + air and leaped into the garden. Vassily Ivanovitch with a + smile kept her by the arm.... Olga flushed all over, to her + ears; he began to rally her on her alarm... invited her to + come a walk with him. But Olga Ivanovna became suddenly + conscious of the negligence of her attire, and 'swifter than + the swift red deer' she slipped away into the next room. + </p> + <p> + The very same day Vassily set off to the Rogatchovs. He was + suddenly happy and light-hearted. Vassily was not in love + with Olga, no! the word 'love' is not to be used lightly.... + He had found an occupation, had set himself a task, and + rejoiced with the delight of a man of action. He did not even + remember that she was his mother's ward, and another man's + betrothed. He never for one instant deceived himself; he was + fully aware that it was not for her to be his wife.... + Possibly there was passion to excuse him—not a very + elevated nor noble passion, truly, but still a fairly strong + and tormenting passion. Of course he was not in love like a + boy; he did not give way to vague ecstasies; he knew very + well what he wanted and what he was striving for. + </p> + <p> + Vassily was a perfect master of the art of winning over, in + the shortest time, any one however shy or prejudiced against + him. Olga soon ceased to be shy with him. Vassily Ivanovitch + led her into a new world. He ordered a clavichord for her, + gave her music lessons (he himself played fairly well on the + flute), read books aloud to her, had long conversations with + her.... The poor child of the steppes soon had her head + turned completely. Vassily dominated her entirely. He knew + how to tell her of what had been till then unknown to her, + and to tell her in a language she could understand. Olga + little by little gained courage to express all her feelings + to him: he came to her aid, helped her out with the words she + could not find, did not alarm her, at one moment kept her + back, at another encouraged her confidences.... Vassily + busied himself with her education from no disinterested + desire to awaken and develop her talents. He simply wanted to + draw her a little closer to himself; and he knew too that an + innocent, shy, but vain young girl is more easily seduced + through the mind than the heart. Even if Olga had been an + exceptional being, Vassily would never have perceived it, for + he treated her like a child. But as you are aware, gentlemen, + there was nothing specially remarkable in Olga. Vassily tried + all he could to work on her imagination, and often in the + evening she left his side with such a whirl of new images, + phrases and ideas in her head that she could not sleep all + night, but lay breathing uneasily and turning her burning + cheeks from side to side on the cool pillows, or got up, went + to the window and gazed fearfully and eagerly into the dark + distance. Vassily filled every moment of her life; she could + not think of any one else. As for Rogatchov, she soon + positively ceased to notice his existence. Vassily had the + tact and shrewdness not to talk to Olga in his presence; but + he either made him laugh till he was ready to cry, or + arranged some noisy entertainment, a riding expedition, a + boating party by night with torches and music—he did + not in fact let Pavel Afanasievitch have a chance to think + clearly. + </p> + <p> + But in spite of all Vassily Ivanovitch's tact, Rogatchov + dimly felt that he, Olga's betrothed and future husband, had + somehow become as it were an outsider to her... but in the + boundless goodness of his heart, he was afraid of wounding + her by reproaches, though he sincerely loved her and prized + her affection. When left alone with her, he did not know what + to say, and only tried all he could to follow her wishes. Two + months passed by. Every trace of self-reliance, of will, + disappeared at last in Olga. Rogatchov, feeble and + tongue-tied, could be no support to her. She had no wish even + to resist the enchantment, and with a sinking heart she + surrendered unconditionally to Vassily.... + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna may very likely then have known something of + the bliss of love; but it was not for long. Though + Vassily—for lack of other occupation—did not drop + her, and even attached himself to her and looked after her + fondly, Olga herself was so utterly distraught that she found + no happiness even in love and yet could not tear herself away + from Vassily. She began to be frightened at everything, did + not dare to think, could talk of nothing, gave up reading, + and was devoured by misery. Sometimes Vassily succeeded in + carrying her along with him and making her forget everything + and every one. But the very next day he would find her pale, + speechless, with icy hands, and a fixed smile on her lips.... + There followed a time of some difficulty for Vassily; but no + difficulties could dismay him. He concentrated himself like a + skilled gambler. He could not in the least rely upon Olga + Ivanovna; she was continually betraying herself, turning + pale, blushing, weeping... her new part was utterly beyond + her powers. Vassily toiled for two: in his restless and + boisterous gaiety, only an experienced observer could have + detected something strained and feverish. He played his + brothers, sisters, the Rogatchovs, the neighbours, like pawns + at chess. He was everlastingly on the alert. Not a single + glance, a single movement, was lost on him, yet he appeared + the most heedless of men. Every morning he faced the fray, + and every evening he scored a victory. He was not the least + oppressed by such a fearful strain of activity. He slept four + hours out of the twenty-four, ate very little, and was + healthy, fresh, and good-humoured. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the wedding-day was approaching. Vassily succeeded + in persuading Pavel Afanasievitch himself of the necessity of + delay. Then he despatched him to Moscow to make various + purchases, while he was himself in correspondence with + friends in Petersburg. He took all this trouble, not so much + from sympathy for Olga Ivanovna, as from a natural bent and + liking for bustle and agitation.... Besides, he was beginning + to be sick of Olga Ivanovna, and more than once after a + violent outbreak of passion for her, he would look at her, as + he sometimes did at Rogatchov. Lutchinov always remained a + riddle to every one. In the coldness of his relentless soul + you felt the presence of a strange almost southern fire, and + even in the wildest glow of passion a breath of icy chill + seemed to come from the man. + </p> + <p> + Before other people he supported Olga Ivanovna as before. But + when they were alone, he played with her like a cat with a + mouse, or frightened her with sophistries, or was wearily, + malignantly bored, or again flung himself at her feet, swept + her away, like a straw in a hurricane... and there was no + feigning at such moments in his passion... he really was + moved himself. + </p> + <p> + One day, rather late in the evening, Vassily was sitting + alone in his room, attentively reading over the last letters + he had received from Petersburg, when suddenly he heard a + faint creak at the door, and Olga Ivanovna's maid, Palashka, + came in. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want?' Vassily asked her rather crossly. + </p> + <p> + 'My mistress begs you to come to her.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't just now. Go along.... Well what are you standing + there for?' he went on, seeing that Palashka did not go away. + </p> + <p> + 'My mistress told me to say that she very particularly wants + to see you,' she said. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what's the matter?' + </p> + <p> + 'Would your honour please to see for yourself....' + </p> + <p> + Vassily got up, angrily flung the letters into a drawer, and + went in to Olga Ivanovna. She was sitting alone in a corner, + pale and passive. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want?' he asked her, not quite politely. + </p> + <p> + Olga looked at him and closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter? what is it, Olga?' + </p> + <p> + He took her hand.... Olga Ivanovna's hand was cold as ice... + She tried to speak... and her voice died away. The poor woman + had no possible doubt of her condition left her. + </p> + <p> + Vassily was a little disconcerted. Olga Ivanovna's room was a + couple of steps from Anna Pavlovna's bedroom. Vassily + cautiously sat down by Olga, kissed and chafed her hands, + comforted her in whispers. She listened to him, and silently, + faintly, shuddered. In the doorway stood Palashka, stealthily + wiping her eyes. In the next room they heard the heavy, even + ticking of the clock, and the breathing of some one asleep. + Olga Ivanovna's numbness dissolved at last into tears and + stifled sobs. Tears are like a storm; after them one is + always calmer. When Olga Ivanovna had quieted down a little, + and only sobbed convulsively at intervals, like a child, + Vassily knelt before her with caresses and tender promises, + soothed her completely, gave her something to drink, put her + to bed, and went away. He did not undress all night; wrote + two or three letters, burnt two or three papers, took out a + gold locket containing the portrait of a black-browed, + black-eyed woman with a bold, voluptuous face, scrutinised + her features slowly, and walked up and down the room + pondering. + </p> + <p> + Next day, at breakfast, he saw with extreme displeasure poor + Olga's red and swollen eyes and pale, agitated face. After + breakfast he proposed a stroll in the garden to her. Olga + followed Vassily, like a submissive sheep. When two hours + afterwards she came in from the garden she quite broke down; + she told Anna Pavlovna she was unwell, and went to lie down + on her bed. During their walk Vassily had, with a suitable + show of remorse, informed her that he was secretly + married—he was really as much a bachelor as I am. Olga + Ivanovna did not fall into a swoon—people don't fall + into swoons except on the stage—but she turned all at + once stony, though she herself was so far from hoping to + marry Vassily Ivanovitch that she was even afraid to think + about it. Vassily had begun to explain to her the + inevitableness of her parting from him and marrying + Rogatchov. Olga Ivanovna looked at him in dumb horror. + Vassily talked in a cool, business-like, practical way, + blamed himself, expressed his regret, but concluded all his + remarks with the following words: 'There's no going back on + the past; we've got to act.' + </p> + <p> + Olga was utterly overwhelmed; she was filled with terror and + shame; a dull, heavy despair came upon her; she longed for + death, and waited in agony for Vassily's decision. + </p> + <p> + 'We must confess everything to my mother,' he said to her at + last. + </p> + <p> + Olga turned deadly pale; her knees shook under her. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' repeated Vassily, 'trust + to me, I won't desert you... I will make everything right... + rely upon me.' + </p> + <p> + The poor woman looked at him with love... yes, with love, and + deep, but hopeless devotion. + </p> + <p> + 'I will arrange everything, everything,' Vassily said to her + at parting... and for the last time he kissed her chilly + hands.... + </p> + <p> + Next morning—Olga Ivanovna had only just risen from her + bed—her door opened... and Anna Pavlovna appeared in + the doorway. She was supported by Vassily. In silence she got + as far as an arm-chair, and in silence she sat down. Vassily + stood at her side. He looked composed; his brows were knitted + and his lips slightly parted. Anna Pavlovna, pale, indignant, + angry, tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Olga + Ivanovna glanced in horror from her benefactress to her + lover, with a terrible sinking at her heart... she fell on + her knees with a shriek in the middle of the room, and hid + her face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Then it's true... is it true?' murmured Anna Pavlovna, and + bent down to her.... 'Answer!' she went on harshly, clutching + Olga by the arm. + </p> + <p> + 'Mother!' rang out Vassily's brazen voice, 'you promised me + not to be hard on her.' + </p> + <p> + 'I want... confess... confess... is it true? is it true?' + </p> + <p> + 'Mother... remember...' Vassily began deliberately. + </p> + <p> + This one word moved Anna Pavlovna greatly. She leaned back in + her chair, and burst into sobs. + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna softly raised her head, and would have flung + herself at the old lady's feet, but Vassily kept her back, + raised her from the ground, and led her to another arm-chair. + Anna Pavlovna went on weeping and muttering disconnected + words.... + </p> + <p> + 'Come, mother,' began Vassily, 'don't torment yourself, the + trouble may yet be set right.... If Rogatchov...' + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna shuddered, and drew herself up. + </p> + <p> + 'If Rogatchov,' pursued Vassily, with a meaning glance at + Olga Ivanovna, 'imagines that he can disgrace an honourable + family with impunity...' + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna was overcome with horror. + </p> + <p> + 'In my house,' moaned Anna Pavlovna. + </p> + <p> + 'Calm yourself, mother. He took advantage of her innocence, + her youth, he—you wish to say something'—he broke + off, seeing that Olga made a movement towards him.... + </p> + <p> + Olga Ivanovna sank back in her chair. + </p> + <p> + 'I will go at once to Rogatchov. I will make him marry her + this very day. You may be sure I will not let him make a + laughing-stock of us....' + </p> + <p> + 'But... Vassily Ivanovitch... you...' whispered Olga. + </p> + <p> + He gave her a prolonged, cold stare. She sank into silence + again. + </p> + <p> + 'Mother, give me your word not to worry her before I return. + Look, she is half dead. And you, too, must rest. Rely upon + me; I answer for everything; in any case, wait till I return. + I tell you again, don't torture her, or yourself, and trust + to me.' + </p> + <p> + He went to the door and stopped. 'Mother,' said he, 'come + with me, leave her alone, I beg of you.' + </p> + <p> + Anna Pavlovna got up, went up to the holy picture, bowed down + to the ground, and slowly followed her son. Olga Ivanovna, + without a word or a movement, looked after them. + </p> + <p> + Vassily turned back quickly, snatched her hand, whispered in + her ear, 'Rely on me, and don't betray us,' and at once + withdrew.... 'Bourcier!' he called, running swiftly down the + stairs, 'Bourcier!' + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later he was sitting in his carriage + with his valet. + </p> + <p> + That day the elder Rogatchov was not at home. He had gone to + the district town to buy cloth for the liveries of his + servants. Pavel Afanasievitch was sitting in his own room, + looking through a collection of faded butterflies. With + lifted eyebrows and protruding lips, he was carefully, with a + pin, turning over the fragile wings of a 'night sphinx' moth, + when he was suddenly aware of a small but heavy hand on his + shoulder. He looked round. Vassily stood before him. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-morning, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he said in some + amazement. + </p> + <p> + Vassily looked at him, and sat down on a chair facing him. + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch was about to smile... but he glanced at + Vassily, and subsided with his mouth open and his hands + clasped. + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me, Pavel Afanasievitch,' said Vassily suddenly, 'are + you meaning to dance at your <i>wedding soon?</i>' + </p> + <p> + 'I?... soon... of course... for my part... though as you and + your sister ... I, for my part, am ready to-morrow even.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good, very good. You're a very impatient person, Pavel + Afanasievitch.' + </p> + <p> + 'How so?' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me tell you,' pursued Vassily Ivanovitch, getting up, 'I + know all; you understand me, and I order you without delay + to-morrow to marry Olga.' + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me, excuse me,' objected Rogatchov, not rising from + his seat; 'you order me. I sought Olga Ivanovna's hand of + myself and there's no need to give me orders.... I confess, + Vassily Ivanovitch, I don't quite understand you.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand me?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, really, I don't understand you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you give me your word to marry her to-morrow?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, mercy on us, Vassily Ivanovitch... haven't you yourself + put off our wedding more than once? Except for you it would + have taken place long ago. And now I have no idea of breaking + it off. What is the meaning of your threats, your + insistence?' + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch wiped the sweat off his face. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you give me your word? Say yes or no!' Vassily repeated + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + 'Excuse me... I will... but...' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good. Remember then... She has confessed everything.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who has confessed?' + </p> + <p> + 'Olga Ivanovna.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what has she confessed?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what are you pretending to me for, Pavel Afanasievitch? + I'm not a stranger to you.' + </p> + <p> + 'What am I pretending? I don't understand you, I don't, I + positively don't understand a word. What could Olga Ivanovna + confess?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? You are really too much! You know what.' + </p> + <p> + 'May God slay me...' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I'll slay you, if you don't marry her... do you + understand?' + </p> + <p> + 'What!...' Pavel Afanasievitch jumped up and stood facing + Vassily. 'Olga Ivanovna... you tell me...' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a clever fellow, you are, I must own'—Vassily + with a smile patted him on the shoulder—'though you do + look so innocent.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good God!... You'll send me out of my mind.... What do you + mean, explain, for God's sake!' + </p> + <p> + Vassily bent down and whispered something in his ear. + </p> + <p> + Rogatchov cried out, 'What!...!?' + </p> + <p> + Vassily stamped. + </p> + <p> + 'Olga Ivanovna? Olga?...' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes... your betrothed...' + </p> + <p> + 'My betrothed... Vassily Ivanovitch... she... she... Why, I + never wish to see her again,' cried Pavel Afanasievitch. + 'Good-bye to her for ever! What do you take me for? I'm being + duped... I'm being duped... Olga Ivanovna, how wrong of you, + have you no shame?...' (Tears gushed from his eyes.) 'Thanks, + Vassily Ivanovitch, thanks very much... I never wish to see + her again now! no! no! don't speak of her.... Ah, merciful + Heavens! to think I have lived to see this! Oh, very well, + very well!' + </p> + <p> + 'That's enough nonsense,' Vassily Ivanovitch observed coldly. + 'Remember, you've given me your word: the wedding's + to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, that it won't be! Enough of that, Vassily Ivanovitch. I + say again, what do you take me for? You do me too much + honour. I'm humbly obliged. Excuse me.' + </p> + <p> + 'As you please!' retorted Vassily. 'Get your sword.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sword... what for?' + </p> + <p> + 'What for?... I'll show you what for.' + </p> + <p> + Vassily drew out his fine, flexible French sword and bent it + a little against the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'You want... to fight... me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Precisely so.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Vassily Ivanovitch, put yourself in my place! How can + I, only think, after what you have just told me.... I'm a man + of honour, Vassily Ivanovitch, a nobleman.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a nobleman, you're a man of honour, so you'll be so + good as to fight with me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Vassily Ivanovitch!' + </p> + <p> + 'You are frightened, I think, Mr. Rogatchov.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not in the least frightened, Vassily Ivanovitch. You + thought you would frighten me, Vassily Ivanovitch. I'll scare + him, you thought, he's a coward, and he'll agree to anything + directly... No, Vassily Ivanovitch, I am a nobleman as much + as you are, though I've not had city breeding, and you won't + succeed in frightening me into anything, excuse me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good,' retorted Vassily; 'where is your sword then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Eroshka!' shouted Pavel Afanasievitch. A servant came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Get me the sword—there—you know, in the loft... + make haste....' + </p> + <p> + Eroshka went out. Pavel Afanasievitch suddenly became + exceedingly pale, hurriedly took off his dressing-gown, put + on a reddish coat with big paste buttons... twisted a cravat + round his neck... Vassily looked at him, and twiddled the + fingers of his right hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, are we to fight then, Pavel Afanasievitch?' + </p> + <p> + 'Let's fight, if we must fight,' replied Rogatchov, and + hurriedly buttoned up his shirt. + </p> + <p> + 'Ay, Pavel Afanasievitch, you take my advice, marry her... + what is it to you... And believe me, I'll...' + </p> + <p> + 'No, Vassily Ivanovitch,' Rogatchov interrupted him. 'You'll + kill me or maim me, I know, but I'm not going to lose my + honour; if I'm to die then I must die.' + </p> + <p> + Eroshka came in, and trembling, gave Rogatchov a wretched old + sword in a torn leather scabbard. In those days all noblemen + wore swords with powder, but in the steppes they only put on + powder twice a year. Eroshka moved away to the door and burst + out crying. Pavel Afanasievitch pushed him out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Vassily Ivanovitch,' he observed with some + embarrassment, 'I can't fight with you on the spot: allow me + to put off our duel till to-morrow. My father is not at home, + and it would be as well for me to put my affairs in order + to—to be ready for anything.' + </p> + <p> + 'I see you're beginning to feel frightened again, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, Vassily Ivanovitch; but consider yourself...' + </p> + <p> + 'Listen!' shouted Lutchinov, 'you drive me out of + patience.... Either give me your word to marry her at once, + or fight...or I'll thrash you with my cane like a + coward,—do you understand?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come into the garden,' Rogatchov answered through his teeth. + </p> + <p> + But all at once the door opened, and the old nurse, Efimovna, + utterly distracted, broke into the room, fell on her knees + before Rogatchov, and clasped his legs.... + </p> + <p> + 'My little master!' she wailed, 'my nursling... what is it + you are about? Will you be the death of us poor wretches, + your honour? Sure, he'll kill you, darling! Only you say the + word, you say the word, and we'll make an end of him, the + insolent fellow.... Pavel Afanasievitch, my baby-boy, for the + love of God!' + </p> + <p> + A number of pale, excited faces showed in the door...there + was even the red beard of the village elder... + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go, Efimovna, let me go!' muttered Rogatchov. + </p> + <p> + 'I won't, my own, I won't. What are you about, sir, what are + you about? What'll Afanasey Lukitch say? Why, he'll drive us + all out of the light of day.... Why are you fellows standing + still? Take the uninvited guest in hand and show him out of + the house, so that not a trace be left of him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Rogatchov!' Vassily Ivanovitch shouted menacingly. + </p> + <p> + 'You are crazy, Efimovna, you are shaming me, come, come...' + said Pavel Afanasievitch. 'Go away, go away, in God's name, + and you others, off with you, do you hear?...' + </p> + <p> + Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out + a small silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered + from close by. Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel + Afanasievitch. + </p> + <p> + 'What's to be the end of this farce?' + </p> + <p> + 'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I + do with this crazy old woman?...' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, + and he swiftly raised his cane... + </p> + <p> + Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, + snatched up the sword, and rushed through another door into + the garden. + </p> + <p> + Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, + painted cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves + in, and drew their swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons + in fencing, but now he was scarcely capable of drawing a + sword properly. The blades crossed. Vassily was obviously + playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel Afanasievitch was + breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into + Lutchinov's face. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of + people were running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov + heard the heart-rending wail of old age...he recognised the + voice of his father. Afanasey Lukitch, bare-headed, with + dishevelled hair, was running in front of them all, + frantically waving his hands.... + </p> + <p> + With a violent and unexpected turn of the blade Vassily sent + the sword flying out of Pavel Afanasievitch's hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Marry her, my boy,' he said to him: 'give over this + foolery!' + </p> + <p> + 'I won't marry her,' whispered Rogatchov, and he shut his + eyes, and shook all over. + </p> + <p> + Afanasey Lukitch began banging at the door of the + summerhouse. + </p> + <p> + 'You won't?' shouted Vassily. + </p> + <p> + Rogatchov shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, damn you, then!' + </p> + <p> + Poor Pavel Afanasievitch fell dead: Lutchinov's sword stabbed + him to the heart... The door gave way; old Rogatchov burst + into the summerhouse, but Vassily had already jumped out of + window... + </p> + <p> + Two hours later he went into Olga Ivanovna's room... She + rushed in terror to meet him... He bowed to her in silence; + took out his sword and pierced Pavel Afanasievitch's portrait + in the place of the heart. Olga shrieked and fell unconscious + on the floor... Vassily went in to Anna Pavlovna. He found + her in the oratory. 'Mother,' said he, 'we are avenged.' The + poor old woman shuddered and went on praying. + </p> + <p> + Within a week Vassily had returned to Petersburg, and two + years later he came back stricken with + paralysis—tongue-tied. He found neither Anna Pavlovna + nor Olga living, and soon after died himself in the arms of + Yuditch, who fed him like a child, and was the only one who + could understand his incoherent stuttering. + </p> + <p> + 1846. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="5"></a> + <h2> + ENOUGH + </h2> + <h3> + A FRAGMENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A DEAD ARTIST + </h3> + <h4> + I + </h4> + <h4> + II + </h4> + <h4> + III + </h4> + <p> + 'Enough,' I said to myself as I moved with lagging steps over + the steep mountainside down to the quiet little brook. + 'Enough,' I said again, as I drank in the resinous fragrance + of the pinewood, strong and pungent in the freshness of + falling evening. 'Enough,' I said once more, as I sat on the + mossy mound above the little brook and gazed into its dark, + lingering waters, over which the sturdy reeds thrust up their + pale green blades.... 'Enough.' + </p> + <p> + No more struggle, no more strain, time to draw in, time to + keep firm hold of the head and to bid the heart be silent. No + more to brood over the voluptuous sweetness of vague, + seductive ecstasy, no more to run after each fresh form of + beauty, no more to hang over every tremour of her delicate, + strong wings. + </p> + <p> + All has been felt, all has been gone through... I am weary. + What to me now that at this moment, larger, fiercer than + ever, the sunset floods the heavens as though aflame with + some triumphant passion? What to me that, amid the soft peace + and glow of evening, suddenly, two paces hence, hidden in a + thick bush's dewy stillness, a nightingale has sung his heart + out in notes magical as though no nightingale had been on + earth before him, and he first sang the first song of first + love? All this was, has been, has been again, and is a + thousand times repeated—and to think that it will last + on so to all eternity—as though decreed, + ordained—it stirs one's wrath! Yes... wrath! + </p> + <h4> + IV + </h4> + <p> + Ah, I am grown old! Such thoughts would never have come to me + once—in those happy days of old, when I too was aflame + like the sunset and my heart sang like the nightingale. + </p> + <p> + There is no hiding it—everything has faded about me, + all life has paled. The light that gives life's colours depth + and meaning—the light that comes out of the heart of + man—is dead within me.... No, not dead yet—it + feebly smoulders on, giving no light, no warmth. + </p> + <p> + Once, late in the night in Moscow, I remember I went up to + the grating window of an old church, and leaned against the + faulty pane. It was dark under the low arched roof—a + forgotten lamp shed a dull red light upon the ancient + picture; dimly could be discerned the lips only of the sacred + face—stern and sorrowful. The sullen darkness gathered + about it, ready it seemed to crush under its dead weight the + feeble ray of impotent light.... Such now in my heart is the + light; and such the darkness. + </p> + <h4> + V + </h4> + <p> + And this I write to thee, to thee, my one never forgotten + friend, to thee, my dear companion, whom I have left for + ever, but shall not cease to love till my life's end.... + Alas! thou knowest what parted us. But that I have no wish to + speak of now. I have left thee... but even here, in these + wilds, in this far-off exile, I am all filled through and + through with thee; as of old I am in thy power, as of old I + feel the sweet burden of thy hand on my bent head! + </p> + <p> + For the last time I drag myself from out the grave of silence + in which I am lying now. I turn a brief and softened gaze on + all my past... our past.... No hope and no return; but no + bitterness is in my heart and no regret, and clearer than the + blue of heaven, purer than the first snow on mountain tops, + fair memories rise up before me like the forms of departed + gods.... They come, not thronging in crowds, in slow + procession they follow one another like those draped Athenian + figures we admired so much—dost thou remember?—in + the ancient bas-reliefs in the Vatican. + </p> + <h4> + VI + </h4> + <p> + I have spoken of the light that comes from the heart of man, + and sheds brightness on all around him... I long to talk with + thee of the time when in my heart too that light burned + bright with blessing... Listen... and I will fancy thee + sitting before me, gazing up at me with those eyes—so + fond yet stern almost in their intentness. O eyes, never to + be forgotten! On whom are they fastened now? Who folds in his + heart thy glance—that glance that seems to flow from + depths unknown even as mysterious springs—like ye, both + clear and dark—that gush out into some narrow, deep + ravine under the frowning cliffs.... Listen. + </p> + <h4> + VII + </h4> + <p> + It was at the end of March before Annunciation, soon after I + had seen thee for the first time and—not yet dreaming + of what thou wouldst be to me—already, silently, + secretly, I bore thee in my heart. I chanced to cross one of + the great rivers of Russia. The ice had not yet broken up, + but looked swollen and dark; it was the fourth day of thaw. + The snow was melting everywhere—steadily but slowly; + there was the running of water on all sides; a noiseless wind + strayed in the soft air. Earth and sky alike were steeped in + one unvarying milky hue; there was not fog nor was there + light; not one object stood out clear in the general + whiteness, everything looked both close and indistinct. I + left my cart far behind and walked swiftly over the ice of + the river, and except the muffled thud of my own steps heard + not a sound. I went on enfolded on all sides by the first + breath, the first thrill, of early spring... and gradually + gaining force with every step, with every movement forwards, + a glad tremour sprang up and grew, all uncomprehended within + me... it drew me on, it hastened me, and so strong was the + flood of gladness within me, that I stood still at last and + with questioning eyes looked round me, as I would seek some + outer cause of my mood of rapture.... All was soft, white, + slumbering, but I lifted my eyes; high in the heavens floated + a flock of birds flying back to us.... 'Spring! welcome + spring!' I shouted aloud: 'welcome, life and love and + happiness!' And at that instance, with sweetly troubling + shock, suddenly like a cactus flower thy image blossomed + aflame within me, blossomed and grew, bewilderingly fair and + radiant, and I knew that I love thee, thee only—that I + am all filled full of thee.... + </p> + <h4> + VIII + </h4> + <p> + I think of thee... and many other memories, other pictures + float before me with thee everywhere, at every turn of my + life I meet thee. Now an old Russian garden rises up before + me on the slope of a hillside, lighted up by the last rays of + the summer sun. Behind the silver poplars peeps out the + wooden roof of the manor-house with a thin curl of reddish + smoke above the white chimney, and in the fence a little gate + stands just ajar, as though some one had drawn it to with + faltering hand; and I stand and wait and gaze at that gate + and the sand of the garden path—wonder and rapture in + my heart. All that I behold seems new and different; over all + a breath of some glad, brooding mystery, and already I catch + the swift rustle of steps, and I stand intent and alert as a + bird with wings folded ready to take flight anew, and my + heart burns and shudders in joyous dread before the + approaching, the alighting rapture.... + </p> + <h4> + IX + </h4> + <p> + Then I see an ancient cathedral in a beautiful, far-off land. + In rows kneel the close packed people; a breath of prayerful + chill, of something grave and melancholy is wafted from the + high, bare roof, from the huge, branching columns. Thou + standest at my side, mute, apart, as though knowing me not. + Each fold of thy dark cloak hangs motionless as carved in + stone. Motionless, too, lie the bright patches cast by the + stained windows at thy feet on the worn flags. And lo, + violently thrilling the incense-clouded air, thrilling us + within, rolled out the mighty flood of the organ's notes... + and I saw thee paler, rigid—thy glance caressed me, + glided higher and rose heavenwards—while to me it + seemed none but an immortal soul could look so, with such + eyes... + </p> + <h4> + X + </h4> + <p> + Another picture comes back to me. + </p> + <p> + No old-world temple subdues us with its stern magnificence; + the low walls of a little snug room shut us off from the + whole world. What am I saying? We are alone, alone in the + whole world; except us two there is nothing + living—outside these friendly walls darkness and death + and emptiness... It is not the wind that howls without, not + the rain streaming in floods; without, Chaos wails and moans, + his sightless eyes are weeping. But with us all is peaceful + and light and warm and welcoming; something droll, something + of childish innocence, like a butterfly—isn't it + so?—flutters about us. We nestle close to one another, + we lean our heads together and both read a favourite book. I + feel the delicate vein beating in thy soft forehead; I hear + that thou livest, thou hearest that I am living, thy smile is + born on my face before it is on thine, thou makest mute + answer to my mute question, thy thoughts, my thoughts are + like the two wings of one bird, lost in the infinite blue... + the last barriers have fallen—and so soothed, so + deepened is our love, so utterly has all apartness vanished + that we have no need for word or look to pass between us.... + Only to breathe, to breathe together is all we want, to be + together and scarcely to be conscious that we are + together.... + </p> + <h4> + XI + </h4> + <p> + Or last of all, there comes before me that bright September + when we walked through the deserted, still flowering garden + of a forsaken palace on the bank of a great river—not + Russian—under the soft brilliance of the cloudless sky. + Oh, how put into words what we felt! The endlessly flowing + river, the solitude and peace and bliss, and a kind of + voluptuous melancholy, and the thrill of rapture, the + unfamiliar monotonous town, the autumn cries of the jackdaws + in the high sun-lit treetops, and the tender words and smiles + and looks, long, soft, piercing to the very in-most soul, and + the beauty, beauty in our lives, about us, on all + sides—it is above words. Oh, the bench on which we sat + in silence with heads bowed down under the weight of + feeling—I cannot forget it till the hour I die! How + delicious were those few strangers passing us with brief + greetings and kind faces, and the great quiet boats floating + by (in one—dost thou remember?—stood a horse + pensively gazing at the gliding water), the baby prattle of + the tiny ripples by the bank, and the very bark of the + distant dogs across the water, the very shouts of the fat + officer drilling the red-faced recruits yonder, with + outspread arms and knees crooked like grasshoppers!... We + both felt that better than those moments nothing in the world + had been or would be for us, that all else... But why + compare? Enough... enough... Alas! yes: enough. + </p> + <h4> + XII + </h4> + <p> + For the last time I give myself up to those memories and bid + them farewell for ever. So a miser gloating over his hoard, + his gold, his bright treasure, covers it over in the damp, + grey earth; so the wick of a smouldering lamp flickers up in + a last bright flare and sinks into cold ash. The wild + creature has peeped out from its hole for the last time at + the velvet grass, the sweet sun, the blue, kindly waters, and + has huddled back into the depths, curled up, and gone to + sleep. Will he have glimpses even in sleep of the sweet sun + and the grass and the blue kindly water?... + </p> + <h4> + XIII + </h4> + <p> + Sternly, remorselessly, fate leads each of us, and only at + the first, absorbed in details of all sorts, in trifles, in + ourselves, we are not aware of her harsh hand. While one can + be deceived and has no shame in lying, one can live and there + is no shame in hoping. Truth, not the full truth, of that, + indeed, we cannot speak, but even that little we can reach + locks up our lips at once, ties our hands, leads us to 'the + No.' Then one way is left a man to keep his feet, not to fall + to pieces, not to sink into the mire of self-forgetfulness... + of self-contempt,—calmly to turn away from all, to say + 'enough!' and folding impotent arms upon the empty breast, to + save the last, the sole honour he can attain to, the dignity + of knowing his own nothingness; that dignity at which Pascal + hints when calling man a thinking reed he says that if the + whole universe crushed him, he, that reed, would be higher + than the universe, because he would know it was crushing him, + and it would know it not. A poor dignity! A sorry + consolation! Try your utmost to be penetrated by it, to have + faith in it, you, whoever you may be, my poor brother, and + there's no refuting those words of menace: + </p> + <pre> + 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury + Signifying nothing.' +</pre> + <p> + I quoted these lines from <i>Macbeth</i>, and there came back + to my mind the witches, phantoms, apparitions.... Alas! no + ghosts, no fantastic, unearthly powers are terrible; there + are no terrors in the Hoffmann world, in whatever form it + appears.... What is terrible is that there is nothing + terrible, that the very essence of life is petty, + uninteresting and degradingly inane. Once one is soaked + through and through with that knowledge, once one has tasted + of that bitter, no honey more seems sweet, and even the + highest, sweetest bliss, the bliss of love, of perfect + nearness, of complete devotion—even that loses all its + magic; all its dignity is destroyed by its own pettiness, its + brevity. Yes; a man loved, glowed with passion, murmured of + eternal bliss, of undying raptures, and lo, no trace is left + of the very worm that devoured the last relic of his withered + tongue. So, on a frosty day in late autumn, when all is + lifeless and dumb in the bleached grey grass, on the bare + forest edge, if the sun but come out for an instant from the + fog and turn one steady glance on the frozen earth, at once + the gnats swarm up on all sides; they sport in the warm rays, + bustle, flutter up and down, circle round one another... The + sun is hidden—the gnats fall in a feeble shower, and + there is the end of their momentary life. + </p> + <h4> + XIV + </h4> + <p> + But are there no great conceptions, no great words of + consolation: patriotism, right, freedom, humanity, art? Yes; + those words there are, and many men live by them and for + them. And yet it seems to me that if Shakespeare could be + born again he would have no cause to retract his Hamlet, his + Lear. His searching glance would discover nothing new in + human life: still the same motley picture—in reality so + little complex—would unroll before him in its + terrifying sameness. The same credulity and the same cruelty, + the same lust of blood, of gold, of filth, the same vulgar + pleasures, the same senseless sufferings in the name... why, + in the name of the very same shams that Aristophanes jeered + at two thousand years ago, the same coarse snares in which + the many-headed beast, the multitude, is caught so easily, + the same workings of power, the same traditions of + slavishness, the same innateness of falsehood—in a + word, the same busy squirrel's turning in the same old + unchanged wheel.... Again Shakespeare would set Lear + repeating his cruel: 'None doth offend,' which in other words + means: 'None is without offence.' and he too would say + 'enough!' he too would turn away. One thing perhaps, may be: + in contrast to the gloomy tragic tyrant Richard, the great + poet's ironic genius would want to paint a newer type, the + tyrant of to-day, who is almost ready to believe in his own + virtue, and sleeps well of nights, or finds fault with too + sumptuous a dinner at the very time when his half-crushed + victims try to find comfort in picturing him, like Richard, + haunted by the phantoms of those he has ruined... + </p> + <p> + But to what end? + </p> + <p> + Why prove—picking out, too, and weighing words, + smoothing and rounding off phrases—why prove to gnats + that they are really gnats? + </p> + <h4> + XV + </h4> + <p> + But art?... beauty?... Yes, these are words of power; they + are more powerful, may be, than those I have spoken before. + Venus of Milo is, may be, more real than Roman law or the + principles of 1789. It may be objected—how many times + has the retort been heard!—that beauty itself is + relative; that by the Chinese it is conceived as quite other + than the European's ideal.... But it is not the relativity of + art confounds me; its transitoriness, again its brevity, its + dust and ashes—that is what robs me of faith and + courage. Art at a given moment is more powerful, may be, than + nature; for in nature is no symphony of Beethoven, no picture + of Ruysdäel, no poem of Goethe, and only dull-witted + pedants or disingenuous chatterers can yet maintain that art + is the imitation of nature. But at the end of all, nature is + inexorable; she has no need to hurry, and sooner or later she + takes her own. Unconsciously and inflexibly obedient to laws, + she knows not art, as she knows not freedom, as she knows not + good; from all ages moving, from all ages changing, she + suffers nothing immortal, nothing unchanging.... Man is her + child; but man's work—art—is hostile to her, just + because it strives to be unchanging and immortal. Man is the + child of nature; but she is the universal mother, and she has + no preferences; all that exists in her lap has arisen only at + the cost of something else, and must in its time yield its + place to something else. She creates destroying, and she + cares not whether she creates or she destroys—so long + as life be not exterminated, so long as death fall not short + of his dues.... And so just as serenely she hides in mould + the god-like shape of Phidias's Zeus as the simplest pebble, + and gives the vile worm for food the priceless verse of + Sophokles. Mankind, 'tis true, jealously aid her in her work + of of slaughter; but is it not the same elemental force, the + force of nature, that finds vent in the fist of the barbarian + recklessly smashing the radiant brow of Apollo, in the savage + yells with which he casts in the fire the picture of Apelles? + How are we, poor folks, poor artists to be a match for this + deaf, dumb, blind force who triumphs not even in her + conquests, but goes onward, onward, devouring all things? How + stand against those coarse and mighty waves, endlessly, + unceasingly moving upward? How have faith in the value and + dignity of the fleeting images, that in the dark, on the edge + of the abyss, we shape out of dust for an instant? + </p> + <h4> + XVI + </h4> + <p> + All this is true,... but only the transient is beautiful, + said Schiller; and nature in the incessant play of her + rising, vanishing forms is not averse to beauty. Does not she + carefully deck the most fleeting of her children—the + petals of the flowers, the wings of the butterfly—in + the fairest hues, does she not give them the most exquisite + lines? Beauty needs not to live for ever to be + eternal—one instant is enough for her. Yes; that may be + is true—but only there where personality is not, where + man is not, where freedom is not; the butterfly's wing + spoiled appears again and again for a thousand years as the + same wing of the same butterfly; there sternly, fairly, + impersonally necessity completes her circle... but man is not + repeated like the butterfly, and the work of his hands, his + art, his spontaneous creation once destroyed is lost for + ever.... To him alone is it vouchsafed to create... but + strange and dreadful it is to pronounce: we are creators... + for one hour—as there was, in the tale, a caliph for an + hour. In this is our pre-eminence—and our curse; each + of those 'creators' himself, even he and no other, even this + <i>I</i> is, as it were, constructed with certain aim, on + lines laid down beforehand; each more or less dimly is aware + of his significance, is aware that he is innately something + noble, eternal—and lives, and must live in the moment + and for the moment.[1] Sit in the mud, my friend, and aspire + to the skies! The greatest among us are just those who more + deeply than all others have felt this rooted contradiction; + though if so, it may be asked, can such words be used as + greatest, great? + </p> + <p> + [Footnote 1: One cannot help recalling here Mephistopheles's + words to Faust:— + </p> + <pre> + 'Er (Gott) findet sich in einem ewgen Glanze, + Uns hat er in die Finsterniss gebracht— + Und euch taugt einzig Tag und Nacht.' + —AUTHOR'S NOTE.] +</pre> + <h4> + XVII + </h4> + <p> + What is to be said of those to whom, with all goodwill, one + cannot apply such terms, even in the sense given them by the + feeble tongue of man? What can one say of the ordinary, + common, second-rate, third-rate toilers—whatsoever they + may be—statesmen, men of science, artists—above + all, artists? How conjure them to shake off their numb + indolence, their weary stupor, how draw them back to the + field of battle, if once the conception has stolen into their + brains of the nullity of everything human, of every sort of + effort that sets before itself a higher aim than the mere + winning of bread? By what crowns can they be lured for whom + laurels and thorns alike are valueless? For what end will + they again face the laughter of 'the unfeeling crowd' or 'the + judgment of the fool'—of the old fool who cannot + forgive them from turning away from the old bogies—of + the young fool who would force them to kneel with him, to + grovel with him before the new, lately discovered idols? Why + should they go back again into that jostling crowd of + phantoms, to that market-place where seller and buyer cheat + each other alike, where is noise and clamour, and all is + paltry and worthless? Why 'with impotence in their bones' + should they struggle back into that world where the peoples, + like peasant boys on a holiday, are tussling in the mire for + handfuls of empty nutshells, or gape in open-mouthed + adoration before sorry tinsel-decked pictures, into that + world where only that is living which has no right to live, + and each, stifling self with his own shouting, hurries + feverishly to an unknown, uncomprehended goal? No... no.... + Enough... enough... enough! + </p> + <h4> + XVIII + </h4> + <p> + ...The rest is silence. [Footnote: English in the + original.—TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + </p> + <p> + 1864. + </p> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> +<PRE> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE JEW AND OTHER STORIES *** + +This file should be named 8tjew10h.htm or 8tjew10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8tjew11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8tjew10ah.htm + + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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