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diff --git a/old/ahero10.txt b/old/ahero10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4813466 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ahero10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9875 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Hero of Our Time, by Lermontov + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +A Hero of Our Time + +by M. Y. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +A HERO OF OUR TIME + + +TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN OF M. Y. LERMONTOV +By J. H. WISDOM & MARR MURRAY + + + + +FOREWORD + +THIS novel, known as one of the masterpieces of +Russian Literature, under the title "A Hero +of our Time," and already translated into at least +nine European languages, is now for the first time +placed before the general English Reader. + +The work is of exceptional interest to the +student of English Literature, written as it was +under the profound influence of Byron and being +itself a study of the Byronic type of character. + +The Translators have taken especial care to +preserve both the atmosphere of the story and the +poetic beauty with which the Poet-novelist imbued +his pages. + + + +CONTENTS + + +FOREWORD + +BOOK I. BELA + +BOOK II. MAKSIM MAKSIMYCH + +FOREWORD TO EXTRACTS FROM PECHORIN'S DIARY + +BOOK III. TAMAN + +BOOK IV. THE FATALIST + +BOOK V. PRINCESS MARY + +APPENDIX. THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION + + +BOOK I BELA + +THE HEART OF A RUSSIAN + +CHAPTER I + +I was travelling post from Tiflis. + +All the luggage I had in my cart consisted of +one small portmanteau half filled with travelling- +notes on Georgia; of these the greater part has +been lost, fortunately for you; but the port- +manteau itself and the rest of its contents have +remained intact, fortunately for me. + +As I entered the Koishaur Valley the sun was +disappearing behind the snow-clad ridge of the +mountains. In order to accomplish the ascent +of Mount Koishaur by nightfall, my driver, an +Ossete, urged on the horses indefatigably, singing +zealously the while at the top of his voice. + +What a glorious place that valley is! On every +hand are inaccessible mountains, steep, yellow +slopes scored by water-channels, and reddish +rocks draped with green ivy and crowned with +clusters of plane-trees. Yonder, at an immense +height, is the golden fringe of the snow. Down +below rolls the River Aragva, which, after bursting +noisily forth from the dark and misty depths of +the gorge, with an unnamed stream clasped in its +embrace, stretches out like a thread of silver, its +waters glistening like a snake with flashing +scales. + +Arrived at the foot of Mount Koishaur, we +stopped at a dukhan.[1] About a score of Georgians +and mountaineers were gathered there in a noisy +crowd, and, close by, a caravan of camels had +halted for the night. I was obliged to hire oxen +to drag my cart up that accursed mountain, as +it was now autumn and the roads were slippery +with ice. Besides, the mountain is about two +versts[2] in length. + +[1] A retail shop and tavern combined. + +[2] A verst is a measure of length, about 3500 English feet. + +There was no help for it, so I hired six oxen and +a few Ossetes. One of the latter shouldered my +portmanteau, and the rest, shouting almost with +one voice, proceeded to help the oxen. + +Following mine there came another cart, which +I was surprised to see four oxen pulling with the +greatest ease, notwithstanding that it was loaded +to the top. Behind it walked the owner, smoking +a little, silver-mounted Kabardian pipe. He was +wearing a shaggy Circassian cap and an officer's +overcoat without epaulettes, and he seemed to +be about fifty years of age. The swarthiness of +his complexion showed that his face had long +been acquainted with Transcaucasian suns, and +the premature greyness of his moustache was +out of keeping with his firm gait and robust +appearance. I went up to him and saluted. He +silently returned my greeting and emitted an +immense cloud of smoke. + +"We are fellow-travellers, it appears." + +Again he bowed silently. + +"I suppose you are going to Stavropol?" + +"Yes, sir, exactly -- with Government things." + +"Can you tell me how it is that that heavily- +laden cart of yours is being drawn without any +difficulty by four oxen, whilst six cattle are +scarcely able to move mine, empty though it is, +and with all those Ossetes helping?" + +He smiled slyly and threw me a meaning +glance. + +"You have not been in the Caucasus long, I +should say?" + +"About a year," I answered. + +He smiled a second time. + +"Well?" + +"Just so, sir," he answered. "They're terrible +beasts, these Asiatics! You think that all that +shouting means that they are helping the oxen? +Why, the devil alone can make out what it is +they do shout. The oxen understand, though; +and if you were to yoke as many as twenty they +still wouldn't budge so long as the Ossetes +shouted in that way of theirs. . . . Awful +scoundrels! But what can you make of them? +They love extorting money from people who +happen to be travelling through here. The +rogues have been spoiled! You wait and see: +they will get a tip out of you as well as their hire. +I know them of old, they can't get round +me!" + +"You have been serving here a long time?" + +"Yes, I was here under Aleksei Petrovich,"[1] +he answered, assuming an air of dignity. "I was +a sub-lieutenant when he came to the Line; and +I was promoted twice, during his command, on +account of actions against the mountaineers." + +[1] Ermolov, i.e. General Ermolov. Russians have three +names -- Christian name, patronymic and surname. They are +addressed by the first two only. The surname of Maksim +Maksimych (colloquial for Maksimovich) is not mentioned. + +"And now --?" + + +"Now I'm in the third battalion of the Line. +And you yourself?" + +I told him. + +With this the conversation ended, and we con- +tinued to walk in silence, side by side. On the +summit of the mountain we found snow. The +sun set, and -- as usually is the case in the south -- +night followed upon the day without any +interval of twilight. Thanks, however, to the +sheen of the snow, we were able easily to dis- +tinguish the road, which still went up the moun- +tain-side, though not so steeply as before. I +ordered the Ossetes to put my portmanteau into +the cart, and to replace the oxen by horses. Then +for the last time I gazed down upon the valley; +but the thick mist which had gushed in billows +from the gorges veiled it completely, and not a +single sound now floated up to our ears from +below. The Ossetes surrounded me clamor- +ously and demanded tips; but the staff-captain +shouted so menacingly at them that they dis- +persed in a moment. + +"What a people they are!" he said. "They +don't even know the Russian for 'bread,' but they +have mastered the phrase 'Officer, give us a tip!' +In my opinion, the very Tartars are better, +they are no drunkards, anyhow." . . . + +We were now within a verst or so of the +Station. Around us all was still, so still, indeed, +that it was possible to follow the flight of a gnat +by the buzzing of its wings. On our left loomed +the gorge, deep and black. Behind it and in +front of us rose the dark-blue summits of the +mountains, all trenched with furrows and covered +with layers of snow, and standing out against the +pale horizon, which still retained the last reflec- +tions of the evening glow. The stars twinkled +out in the dark sky, and in some strange way it +seemed to me that they were much higher than +in our own north country. On both sides of the +road bare, black rocks jutted out; here and there +shrubs peeped forth from under the snow; but +not a single withered leaf stirred, and amid that +dead sleep of nature it was cheering to hear the +snorting of the three tired post-horses and the +irregular tinkling of the Russian bell.[1] + +[1] The bell on the duga, a wooden arch joining the +shafts of a Russian conveyance over the horse's neck. + + +"We will have glorious weather to-morrow," +I said. + +The staff-captain answered not a word, but +pointed with his finger to a lofty mountain which +rose directly opposite us. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"Mount Gut." + +"Well, what then?" + +"Don't you see how it is smoking?" + +True enough, smoke was rising from Mount +Gut. Over its sides gentle cloud-currents were +creeping, and on the summit rested one cloud of +such dense blackness that it appeared like a blot +upon the dark sky. + +By this time we were able to make out the Post +Station and the roofs of the huts surrounding it; +the welcoming lights were twinkling before us, +when suddenly a damp and chilly wind arose, the +gorge rumbled, and a drizzling rain fell. I had +scarcely time to throw my felt cloak round me +when down came the snow. I looked at the +staff-captain with profound respect. + +"We shall have to pass the night here," he +said, vexation in his tone. "There's no crossing +the mountains in such a blizzard. -- I say, have +there been any avalanches on Mount Krestov?" +he inquired of the driver. + +"No, sir," the Ossete answered; "but there +are a great many threatening to fall -- a great +many." + +Owing to the lack of a travellers' room in the +Station, we were assigned a night's lodging in a +smoky hut. I invited my fellow-traveller to +drink a tumbler of tea with me, as I had brought +my cast-iron teapot -- my only solace during my +travels in the Caucasus. + +One side of the hut was stuck against the cliff, +and three wet and slippery steps led up to the +door. I groped my way in and stumbled up +against a cow (with these people the cow-house +supplies the place of a servant's room). I did not +know which way to turn -- sheep were bleating +on the one hand and a dog growling on the other. +Fortunately, however, I perceived on one side a +faint glimmer of light, and by its aid I was able +to find another opening by way of a door. And +here a by no means uninteresting picture was +revealed. The wide hut, the roof of which +rested on two smoke-grimed pillars, was full of +people. In the centre of the floor a small fire was +crackling, and the smoke, driven back by the wind +from an opening in the roof, was spreading +around in so thick a shroud that for a long time I +was unable to see about me. Seated by the fire +were two old women, a number of children and a +lank Georgian -- all of them in tatters. There +was no help for it! We took refuge by the fire +and lighted our pipes; and soon the teapot was +singing invitingly. + +"Wretched people, these!" I said to the +staff-captain, indicating our dirty hosts, who were +silently gazing at us in a kind of torpor. + +"And an utterly stupid people too!" he +replied. "Would you believe it, they are +absolutely ignorant and incapable of the slightest +civilisation! Why even our Kabardians or +Chechenes, robbers and ragamuffins though they +be, are regular dare-devils for all that. Whereas +these others have no liking for arms, and you'll +never see a decent dagger on one of them! +Ossetes all over!" + +"You have been a long time in the Chechenes' +country?" + +"Yes, I was quartered there for about ten +years along with my company in a fortress, +near Kamennyi Brod.[1] Do you know the +place?" + +[1] Rocky Ford. + +"I have heard the name." + +"I can tell you, my boy, we had quite enough +of those dare-devil Chechenes. At the present +time, thank goodness, things are quieter; but in +the old days you had only to put a hundred +paces between you and the rampart and wherever +you went you would be sure to find a shaggy devil +lurking in wait for you. You had just to let your +thoughts wander and at any moment a lasso +would be round your neck or a bullet in the back +of your head! Brave fellows, though!" . . . + +"You used to have many an adventure, I +dare say?" I said, spurred by curiosity. + +"Of course! Many a one." . . . + +Hereupon he began to tug at his left moustache, +let his head sink on to his breast, and became lost +in thought. I had a very great mind to extract +some little anecdote out of him -- a desire natural +to all who travel and make notes. + +Meanwhile, tea was ready. I took two travel- +ling-tumblers out of my portmanteau, and, +filling one of them, set it before the staff-captain. +He sipped his tea and said, as if speaking to +himself, "Yes, many a one!" This exclamation +gave me great hopes. Your old Caucasian officer +loves, I know, to talk and yarn a bit; he so +rarely succeeds in getting a chance to do so. It +may be his fate to be quartered five years or so +with his company in some out-of-the-way place, +and during the whole of that time he will not +hear "good morning" from a soul (because the +sergeant says "good health"). And, indeed, he +would have good cause to wax loquacious -- +with a wild and interesting people all around +him, danger to be faced every day, and many a +marvellous incident happening. It is in circum- +stances like this that we involuntarily complain +that so few of our countrymen take notes. + +"Would you care to put some rum in your +tea?" I said to my companion. "I have some +white rum with me -- from Tiflis; and the +weather is cold now." + +"No, thank you, sir; I don't drink." + +"Really?" + +"Just so. I have sworn off drinking. Once, +you know, when I was a sub-lieutenant, some of +us had a drop too much. That very night there +was an alarm, and out we went to the front, +half seas over! We did catch it, I can tell you, +when Aleksei Petrovich came to hear about us! +Heaven save us, what a rage he was in! He was +within an ace of having us court-martialled. +That's just how things happen! You might +easily spend a whole year without seeing a soul; +but just go and have a drop and you're a lost +man!" + +On hearing this I almost lost hope. + +"Take the Circassians, now," he continued; +"once let them drink their fill of buza[1] at a +wedding or a funeral, and out will come their +knives. On one occasion I had some difficulty in +getting away with a whole skin, and yet it was at +the house of a 'friendly'[2] prince, where I was +a guest, that the affair happened." + +[1] A kind of beer made from millet. + +[2] i.e. acknowledging Russian supremacy. + +"How was that?" I asked. + +"Here, I'll tell you." . . . + +He filled his pipe, drew in the smoke, and began +his story. + + + +CHAPTER II + + +"YOU see, sir," said the staff-captain, "I +was quartered, at the time, with a com- +pany in a fortress beyond the Terek -- getting on +for five years ago now. One autumn day, a +transport arrived with provisions, in charge of +an officer, a young man of about twenty-five. +He reported himself to me in full uniform, and +announced that he had been ordered to remain +in the fortress with me. He was so very elegant, +his complexion so nice and white, his uniform so +brand new, that I immediately guessed that he +had not been long with our army in the Caucasus. + +"'I suppose you have been transferred from +Russia?' I asked. + +"'Exactly, captain,' he answered. + +"I took him by the hand and said: + +"'I'm delighted to see you -- delighted! It +will be a bit dull for you . . . but there, we will +live together like a couple of friends. But, please, +call me simply "Maksim Maksimych"; and, tell +me, what is this full uniform for? Just wear your +forage-cap whenever you come to me!' + +"Quarters were assigned to him and he settled +down in the fortress." + +"What was his name?" I asked Maksim +Maksimych. + +"His name was Grigori Aleksandrovich Pe- +chorin. He was a splendid fellow, I can assure +you, but a little peculiar. Why, to give you an +instance, one time he would stay out hunting +the whole day, in the rain and cold; the others +would all be frozen through and tired out, but he +wouldn't mind either cold or fatigue. Then, +another time, he would be sitting in his own +room, and, if there was a breath of wind, he would +declare that he had caught cold; if the shutters +rattled against the window he would start and +turn pale: yet I myself have seen him attack a +boar single-handed. Often enough you couldn't +drag a word out of him for hours together; but +then, on the other hand, sometimes, when he +started telling stories, you would split your sides +with laughing. Yes, sir, a very eccentric man; +and he must have been wealthy too. What a +lot of expensive trinkets he had!" . . . + +"Did he stay there long with you?" I went +on to ask. + +"Yes, about a year. And, for that very reason, +it was a memorable year to me. He gave me a +great deal of trouble -- but there, let bygones be +bygones! . . . You see, it is true enough, there +are people like that, fated from birth to have all +sorts of strange things happening to them!" + +"Strange?" I exclaimed, with an air of +curiosity, as I poured out some tea. + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"WELL, then, I'll tell you," said Maksim +Maksimych. "About six versts from the +fortress there lived a certain 'friendly' prince. +His son, a brat of about fifteen, was accustomed +to ride over to visit us. Not a day passed but +he would come, now for one thing, now for +another. And, indeed, Grigori Aleksandrovich +and I spoiled him. What a dare-devil the boy +was! Up to anything, picking up a cap at full +gallop, or bringing things down with his gun! +He had one bad quality; he was terribly greedy +for money. Once, for the fun of the thing, +Grigori Aleksandrovich promised to give him a +ducat if he would steal the best he-goat from his +father's herd for him; and, what do you think? +The very next night he came lugging it in by the +horns! At times we used to take it into our heads +to tease him, and then his eyes would become +bloodshot and his hand would fly to his dagger +immediately. + +"'You'll be losing your life if you are not +careful, Azamat,' I would say to him. 'That hot +head of yours will get you into trouble.' + +"On one occasion, the old prince himself +came to invite us to the wedding of his eldest +daughter; and, as we were guest-friends with +him, it was impossible to decline, Tartar though +he was. We set off. In the village we were met +by a number of dogs, all barking loudly. The +women, when they saw us coming, hid them- +selves, but those whose faces we were able to +get a view of were far from being beauties. + +"'I had a much better opinion of the Cir- +cassian women,' remarked Grigori Aleksandrovich. + +"'Wait a bit!' I answered, with a smile; I +had my own views on the subject. + +"A number of people had already gathered at +the prince's hut. It is the custom of the Asiatics, +you know, to invite all and sundry to a wedding. +We were received with every mark of honour +and conducted to the guest-chamber. All the +same, I did not forget quietly to mark where +our horses were put, in case anything unforeseen +should happen." + +"How are weddings celebrated amongst +them?" I asked the staff-captain. + +"Oh, in the usual way. First of all, the +Mullah reads them something out of the Koran; +then gifts are bestowed upon the young couple +and all their relations; the next thing is eating +and drinking of buza, then the dance on horse- +back; and there is always some ragamuffin, +bedaubed with grease, bestriding a wretched, +lame jade, and grimacing, buffooning, and making +the worshipful company laugh. Finally, when +darkness falls, they proceed to hold what we +should call a ball in the guest-chamber. A poor, +old greybeard strums on a three-stringed in- +strument -- I forget what they call it, but +anyhow, it is something in the nature of our +balalaika.[1] The girls and young children set +themselves in two ranks, one opposite the other, +and clap their hands and sing. Then a girl and +a man come out into the centre and begin to +chant verses to each other -- whatever comes into +their heads -- and the rest join in as a chorus. +Pechorin and I sat in the place of honour. All +at once up came our host's youngest daughter, +a girl of about sixteen, and chanted to Pechorin +-- how shall I put it? -- something in the nature +of a compliment." . . . + +[1] A kind of two-stringed or three-stringed guitar. + +"What was it she sang -- do you remember?" + +"It went like this, I fancy: 'Handsome, they +say, are our young horsemen, and the tunics they +wear are garnished with silver; but handsomer still +is the young Russian officer, and the lace on his +tunic is wrought of gold. Like a poplar amongst +them he stands, but in gardens of ours such trees +will grow not nor bloom!' + +"Pechorin rose, bowed to her, put his hand +to his forehead and heart, and asked me to +answer her. I know their language well, and I +translated his reply. + +"When she had left us I whispered to Grigori +Aleksandrovich: + +"'Well, now, what do you think of her?' + +"'Charming!' he replied. 'What is her +name?' + +"'Her name is Bela,' I answered. + +"And a beautiful girl she was indeed; her +figure was tall and slender, her eyes black as those +of a mountain chamois, and they fairly looked +into your soul. Pechorin, deep in thought, kept +his gaze fixed upon her, and she, for her part, stole +glances at him often enough from under her +lashes. Pechorin, however, was not the only +one who was admiring the pretty princess; +another pair of eyes, fixed and fiery, were gazing +at her from the corner of the room. I took +a good look at their owner, and recognised my +old acquaintance Kazbich, who, you must know, +was neither exactly 'friendly' nor yet the other +thing. He was an object of much suspicion, +although he had never actually been caught at +any knavery. He used to bring rams to our +fortress and sell them cheaply; only he never +would haggle; whatever he demanded at first +you had to give. He would have his throat cut +rather than come down in price. He had the +reputation of being fond of roaming on the far +side of the Kuban with the Abreks; and, to tell +the truth, he had a regular thief's visage. A +little, wizened, broad-shouldered fellow he was -- +but smart, I can tell you, smart as the very +devil! His tunic was always worn out and +patched, but his weapons were mounted in silver. +His horse was renowned throughout Kabardia -- +and, indeed, a better one it would be impossible +to imagine! Not without good reason did all +the other horsemen envy Kazbich, and on more +than one occasion they had attempted to steal +the horse, but they had never succeeded. I +seem to see the animal before me now -- black as +coal, with legs like bow-strings and eyes as fine +as Bela's! How strong he was too! He would +gallop as much as fifty versts at a stretch! And +he was well trained besides -- he would trot +behind his master like a dog, and actually knew +his voice! Kazbich never used to tether him +either -- just the very horse for a robber! . . . + +"On that evening Kazbich was more sullen +than ever, and I noticed that he was wearing a +coat of mail under his tunic. 'He hasn't got +that coat of mail on for nothing,' I thought. +'He has some plot in his head, I'll be bound!' + +"It grew oppressively hot in the hut, and I +went out into the air to cool myself. Night had +fallen upon the mountains, and a mist was +beginning to creep along the gorges. + +"It occurred to me to pop in under the shed +where our horses were standing, to see whether +they had their fodder; and, besides, it is never +any harm to take precautions. My horse was +a splendid one too, and more than one Kabardian +had already cast fond glances at it, repeating at +the same time: 'Yakshi tkhe chok yakshi.'[1] + +[1] "Good -- very good." + +"I stole along the fence. Suddenly I heard +voices, one of which I immediately recognised. + +It was that of the young pickle, Azamat, our +host's son. The other person spoke less and in a +quieter tone. + +"'What are they discussing there?' I won- +dered. 'Surely it can't be my horse!' I +squatted down beside the fence and proceeded +to play the eavesdropper, trying not to let slip a +single word. At times the noise of songs and the +buzz of voices, escaping from the hut, drowned +the conversation which I was finding interesting. + +"'That's a splendid horse of yours,' Azamat +was saying. 'If I were master of a house of my +own and had a stud of three hundred mares, I +would give half of it for your galloper, +Kazbich!' + +"'Aha! Kazbich!' I said to myself, and I +called to mind the coat of mail. + +"'Yes,' replied Kazbich, after an interval of +silence. 'There is not such another to be found +in all Kabardia. Once -- it was on the other side +of the Terek -- I had ridden with the Abreks to +seize the Russian herds. We had no luck, so we +scattered in different directions. Four Cossacks +dashed after me. I could actually hear the cries +of the giaours behind me, and in front of me +there was a dense forest. I crouched down in the +saddle, committed myself to Allah, and, for +the first time in my life, insulted my horse with +a blow of the whip. Like a bird, he plunged +among the branches; the sharp thorns tore my +clothing, the dead boughs of the cork-elms struck +against my face! My horse leaped over tree- +trunks and burst his way through bushes with his +chest! It would have been better for me to +have abandoned him at the outskirts of the +forest and concealed myself in it afoot, but it +was a pity to part with him -- and the Prophet +rewarded me. A few bullets whistled over my +head. I could now hear the Cossacks, who had +dismounted, running upon my tracks. Suddenly +a deep gully opened before me. My galloper +took thought -- and leaped. His hind hoofs +slipped back off the opposite bank, and he re- +mained hanging by his fore-feet. I dropped +the bridle and threw myself into the hollow, +thereby saving my horse, which jumped out. +The Cossacks saw the whole scene, only not one +of them got down to search for me, thinking +probably that I had mortally injured myself; +and I heard them rushing to catch my horse. My +heart bled within me. I crept along the hollow +through the thick grass -- then I looked around: +it was the end of the forest. A few Cossacks were +riding out from it on to the clearing, and there +was my Karagyoz[1] galloping straight towards +them. With a shout they all dashed forward. +For a long, long time they pursued him, and one +of them, in particular, was once or twice almost +successful in throwing a lasso over his neck. + +[1] Turkish for "Black-eye." + +I trembled, dropped my eyes, and began to pray. +After a few moments I looked up again, and there +was my Karagyoz flying along, his tail waving -- +free as the wind; and the giaours, on their jaded +horses, were trailing along far behind, one after +another, across the steppe. Wallah! It is true -- +really true! Till late at night I lay in the hollow. +Suddenly -- what do you think, Azamat? I heard +in the darkness a horse trotting along the bank +of the hollow, snorting, neighing, and beating +the ground with his hoofs. I recognised my +Karagyoz's voice; 'twas he, my comrade!" . . . +Since that time we have never been parted!' + +"And I could hear him patting his galloper's +sleek neck with his hand, as he called him various +fond names. + +"'If I had a stud of a thousand mares,' said +Azamat, 'I would give it all for your Karagyoz!' + +"'Yok![1] I would not take it!' said Kazbich +indifferently. + +[1] "No!" + +"'Listen, Kazbich,' said Azamat, trying to +ingratiate himself with him. 'You are a kind- +hearted man, you are a brave horseman, but my +father is afraid of the Russians and will not +allow me to go on the mountains. Give me +your horse, and I will do anything you wish. I +will steal my father's best rifle for you, or his +sabre -- just as you like -- and his sabre is a genuine +Gurda;[1] you have only to lay the edge against +your hand, and it will cut you; a coat of mail +like yours is nothing against it.' + +[1] A particular kind of ancient and valued sabre. + +"Kazbich remained silent. + +"'The first time I saw your horse,' continued +Azamat, 'when he was wheeling and leaping +under you, his nostrils distended, and the flints +flying in showers from under his hoofs, something +I could not understand took place within my +soul; and since that time I have been weary of +everything. I have looked with disdain on my +father's best gallopers; I have been ashamed +to be seen on them, and yearning has taken pos- +session of me. In my anguish I have spent whole +days on the cliffs, and, every minute, my thoughts +have kept turning to your black galloper with his +graceful gait and his sleek back, straight as an +arrow. With his keen, bright eyes he has looked +into mine as if about to speak! . . . I shall die, +Kazbich, if you will not sell him to me!' said +Azamat, with trembling voice. + +"I could hear him burst out weeping, and I +must tell you that Azamat was a very stubborn +lad, and that not for anything could tears be +wrung from him, even when he was a little +younger. + +"In answer to his tears, I could hear some- +thing like a laugh. + +"'Listen,' said Azamat in a firm voice. +'You see, I am making up my mind for anything. +If you like, I will steal my sister for you! How +she dances! How she sings! And the way she +embroiders with gold -- marvellous! Not even a +Turkish Padishah[1] has had a wife like her! . . . +Shall I? Wait for me to-morrow night, yonder, +in the gorge where the torrent flows; I will go +by with her to the neighbouring village -- and she +is yours. Surely Bela is worth your galloper!' + +[1] King -- a title of the Sultan of Turkey. + +"Kazbich remained silent for a long, long +time. At length, instead of answering, he struck +up in an undertone the ancient song: + + +"Many a beauty among us dwells + + From whose eyes' dark depths the starlight wells, + + 'Tis an envied lot and sweet, to hold + + Their love; but brighter is freedom bold. + + Four wives are yours if you pay the gold; + + But a mettlesome steed is of price untold; + + The whirlwind itself on the steppe is less fleet; + + He knows no treachery -- no deceit."[2] + +[2] I beg my readers' pardon for having versified Kazbich's +song, which, of course, as I heard it, was in prose; but habit is +second nature. (Author's note.) + +"In vain Azamat entreated him to consent. +He wept, coaxed, and swore to him. Finally, +Kazbich interrupted him impatiently: + +"'Begone, you crazy brat! How should +you think to ride on my horse? In three steps +you would be thrown and your neck broken on +the stones!' + +"'I?' cried Azamat in a fury, and the blade +of the child's dagger rang against the coat of +mail. A powerful arm thrust him away, and he +struck the wattle fence with such violence that +it rocked. + +"'Now we'll see some fun!' I thought to +myself. + +"I rushed into the stable, bridled our horses +and led them out into the back courtyard. In +a couple of minutes there was a terrible uproar +in the hut. What had happened was this: +Azamat had rushed in, with his tunic torn, +saying that Kazbich was going to murder him. All +sprang out, seized their guns, and the fun began! +Noise -- shouts -- shots! But by this time Kazbich +was in the saddle, and, wheeling among the crowd +along the street, defended himself like a madman, +brandishing his sabre. + +"'It is a bad thing to interfere in other +people's quarrels,' I said to Grigori Aleksandro- +vich, taking him by the arm. 'Wouldn't it be +better for us to clear off without loss of time?' + +"'Wait, though, and see how it will end!' + +"'Oh, as to that, it will be sure enough to +end badly; it is always so with these Asiatics. +Once let them get drunk on buza, and there's +certain to be bloodshed.' + +"We mounted and galloped home." + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"TELL me, what became of Kazbich?" +I asked the staff-captain impatiently. + +"Why, what can happen to that sort of a +fellow?" he answered, finishing his tumbler of +tea. "He slipped away, of course." + +"And wasn't he wounded?" I asked. + +"Goodness only knows! Those scoundrels take +a lot of killing! In action, for instance, I've seen +many a one, sir, stuck all over with bayonets like +a sieve, and still brandishing his sabre." + +After an interval of silence the staff-captain +continued, tapping the ground with his foot: + +"One thing I'll never forgive myself for. +On our arrival at the fortress the devil put it into +my head to repeat to Grigori Aleksandrovich all +that I had heard when I was eavesdropping +behind the fence. He laughed -- cunning fellow! +-- and thought out a little plan of his own." + +"What was that? Tell me, please." + +"Well, there's no help for it now, I suppose. +I've begun the story, and so I must continue. + +"In about four days' time Azamat rode over +to the fortress. As his usual custom was, he went +to see Grigori Aleksandrovich, who always used +to give him sweetmeats to eat. I was present. +The conversation was on the subject of horses, +and Pechorin began to sound the praises of +Kazbich's Karagyoz. What a mettlesome horse +it was, and how handsome! A perfect chamois! +In fact, judging by his account, there simply +wasn't another like it in the whole world! + +"The young Tartar's beady eyes began to +sparkle, but Pechorin didn't seem to notice the +fact. I started to talk about something else, +but immediately, mark you, Pechorin caused the +conversation to strike off on to Kazbich's horse. +Every time that Azamat came it was the same +story. After about three weeks, I began to +observe that Azamat was growing pale and +wasted, just as people in novels do from love, +sir. What wonder either! . . . + +"Well, you see, it was not until afterwards +that I learned the whole trick -- Grigori Aleksan- +drovich exasperated Azamat to such an extent +with his teasing that the boy was ready even to +drown himself. One day Pechorin suddenly +broke out with: + +"'I see, Azamat, that you have taken a +desperate fancy to that horse of Kazbich's, but +you'll no more see him than you will the back +of your neck! Come, tell me, what would you +give if somebody made you a present of him?' + +"'Anything he wanted,' answered Azamat. + +"'In that case I will get the horse for you, +only on one condition . . . Swear that you will +fulfil it?' + +"'I swear. You swear too!' + +"'Very well! I swear that the horse shall +be yours. But, in return, you must deliver your +sister Bela into my hands. Karagyoz shall be her +bridegroom's gift. I hope the transaction will +be a profitable one for you.' + +"Azamat remained silent. + +"'Won't you? Well, just as you like! I +thought you were a man, but it seems you are +still a child; it is early for you to be riding on +horseback!' + +"Azamat fired up. + +"'But my father --' he said. + +"'Does he never go away, then?' + +"'True.' + +"'You agree?' + +"'I agree,' whispered Azamat, pale as death. +'But when?' + +"'The first time Kazbich rides over here. +He has promised to drive in half a score of rams; +the rest is my affair. Look out, then, Azamat!' + +"And so they settled the business -- a bad +business, to tell the truth! I said as much to +Pechorin afterwards, but he only answered that +a wild Circassian girl ought to consider herself +fortunate in having such a charming husband as +himself -- because, according to their ideas, he +really was her husband -- and that Kazbich was a +scoundrel, and ought to be punished. Judge for +yourself, what could I say to that? . . . At the +time, however, I knew nothing of their con- +spiracy. Well, one day Kazbich rode up and +asked whether we needed any rams and honey; +and I ordered him to bring some the next +day. + +"'Azamat!' said Grigori Aleksandrovich; +'to-morrow Karagyoz will be in my hands; if +Bela is not here to-night you will never see the +horse.' . . + +"'Very well,' said Azamat, and galloped to +the village. + +"In the evening Grigori Aleksandrovich armed +himself and rode out of the fortress. How they +settled the business I don't know, but at night +they both returned, and the sentry saw that +across Azamat's saddle a woman was lying, bound +hand and foot and with her head wrapped in a +veil." + +"And the horse?" I asked the staff-captain. + +"One minute! One minute! Early next +morning Kazbich rode over, driving in half a +score of rams for sale. Tethering his horse by +the fence, he came in to see me, and I regaled +him with tea, for, robber though he was, he was +none the less my guest-friend. + +"We began to chat about one thing and +another. . . Suddenly I saw Kazbich start, +change countenance, and dart to the window; +but unfortunately the window looked on to the +back courtyard. + +"'What is the matter with you?' I asked. + +"'My horse! . . . My horse!' he cried, all +of a tremble. + +"As a matter of fact I heard the clattering of +hoofs. + +"'It is probably some Cossack who has +ridden up.' + +"'No! Urus -- yaman, yaman!'[1] he roared, +and rushed headlong away like a wild panther. +In two bounds he was in the courtyard; at the +gate of the fortress the sentry barred the way +with his gun; Kazbich jumped over the gun +and dashed off at a run along the road. . . +Dust was whirling in the distance -- Azamat was +galloping away on the mettlesome Karagyoz. +Kazbich, as he ran, tore his gun out of its cover +and fired. For a moment he remained motion- +less, until he had assured himself that he had +missed. Then he uttered a shrill cry, knocked +the gun against a rock, smashed it to splinters, +fell to the ground, and burst out sobbing like +a child. . . The people from the fortress +gathered round him, but he took no notice of +anyone. They stood there talking awhile and +then went back. I ordered the money for the +rams to be placed beside him. He didn't touch +it, but lay with his face to the ground like a +dead man. Would you believe it? He re- +mained lying like that throughout the rest of +that day and the following night! It was only +on the next morning that he came to the fortress +and proceeded to ask that the name of the thief +should be told him. The sentry who had ob- +served Azamat untying the horse and galloping +away on him did not see any necessity for con- +cealment. At the name of Azamat, Kazbich's +eyes flashed, and he set off to the village where +Azamat's father lived." + +[1] "No! Russian -- bad, bad!" + +"And what about the father?" + +"Ah, that was where the trick came in! +Kazbich could not find him; he had gone away +somewhere for five or six days; otherwise, how +could Azamat have succeeded in carrying off +Bela? + +"And, when the father returned, there was +neither daughter nor son to be found. A wily +rogue, Azamat! He understood, you see, that +he would lose his life if he was caught. So, from +that time, he was never seen again; probably +he joined some gang of Abreks and laid down +his turbulent life on the other side of the +Terek or the Kuban. It would have served him +right!" . . . + + + + CHAPTER V + +"I CONFESS that, for my part, I had trouble +enough over the business. So soon as ever +I learned that the Circassian girl was with Grigori +Aleksandrovich, I put on my epaulettes and sword +and went to see him. + +"He was lying on the bed in the outer room, +with one hand under his head and the other +holding a pipe which had gone out. The door +leading to the inner room was locked, and there +was no key in the lock. I observed all that in +a moment. . . I coughed and rapped my heels +against the threshold, but he pretended not to +hear. + +"'Ensign!' I said, as sternly as I could. 'Do +you not see that I have come to you?' + +"'Ah, good morning, Maksim Maksimych! +Won't you have a pipe?' he answered, without +rising. + +"'Excuse me, I am not Maksim Maksimych. +I am the staff-captain.' + +"'It's all the same! Won't you have some +tea? If you only knew how I am being tortured +with anxiety.' + +"'I know all,' I answered, going up to the +bed. + +"'So much the better,' he said. 'I am not +in a narrative mood.' + +"'Ensign, you have committed an offence for +which I may have to answer as well as you.' + +"'Oh, that'll do. What's the harm? You +know, we've gone halves in everything.' + +"'What sort of a joke do you think you are +playing? Your sword, please!' . . . + +"'Mitka, my sword!' + +"'Mitka brought the sword. My duty dis- +charged, I sat down on the bed, facing Pechorin, +and said: 'Listen here, Grigori Aleksandrovich, +you must admit that this is a bad business.' + +"'What is?' + +"'Why, that you have carried off Bela. . . +Ah, it is that beast Azamat! . . . Come, con- +fess!' I said. + +"'But, supposing I am fond of her?' . . . + +"Well, what could I say to that? . . . I was +nonplussed. After a short interval of silence, +however, I told him that if Bela's father were +to claim her he would have to give her up. + +"'Not at all!' + +"'But he will get to know that she is +here.' + +"'How?' + +"Again I was nonplussed. + +"'Listen, Maksim Maksimych,' said Pechorin, +rising to his feet. 'You're a kind-hearted man, +you know; but, if we give that savage back his +daughter, he will cut her throat or sell her. The +deed is done, and the only thing we can do now +is not to go out of our way to spoil matters. +Leave Bela with me and keep my sword!' + +"'Show her to me, though,' I said. + +"'She is behind that door. Only I wanted, +myself, to see her to-day and wasn't able to. +She sits in the corner, muffled in her veil, and +neither speaks nor looks up -- timid as a wild +chamois! I have hired the wife of our dukhan- +keeper: she knows the Tartar language, and will +look after Bela and accustom her to the idea +that she belongs to me -- for she shall belong to +no one else!' he added, banging his fist on the +table. + +"I assented to that too. . . What could I +do? There are some people with whom you +absolutely have to agree." + +"Well?" I asked Maksim Maksimych. "Did +he really succeed in making her grow accustomed +to him, or did she pine away in captivity from +home-sickness?" + +"Good gracious! how could she pine away +from home-sickness? From the fortress she +could see the very same hills as she could from +the village -- and these savages require nothing +more. Besides, Grigori Aleksandrovich used to +give her a present of some kind every day. At +first she didn't utter a word, but haughtily +thrust away the gifts, which then fell to the lot +of the dukhan-keeper's wife and aroused her +eloquence. Ah, presents! What won't a woman +do for a coloured rag! . . . But that is by the +way. . . For a long time Grigori Aleksandro- +vich persevered with her, and meanwhile he +studied the Tartar language and she began to +understand ours. Little by little she grew +accustomed to looking at him, at first furtively, +askance; but she still pined and crooned her +songs in an undertone, so that even I would feel +heavy at heart when I heard her from the next +room. One scene I shall never forget: I was +walking past, and I looked in at the window; +Bela was sitting on the stove-couch, her head +sunk on her breast, and Grigori Aleksandrovich +was standing, facing her. + +"'Listen, my Peri,' he was saying. 'Surely +you know that you will have to be mine sooner +or later -- why, then, do you but torture me? +Is it that you are in love with some Chechene? +If so, I will let you go home at once.' + +"She gave a scarcely perceptible start and +shook her head. + +"'Or is it,' he continued, 'that I am utterly +hateful to you?' + +"She heaved a sigh. + +"'Or that your faith prohibits you from +giving me a little of your love?' + +"She turned pale and remained silent. + +"'Believe me, Allah is one and the same for +all races; and, if he permits me to love you, +why, then, should he prohibit you from requiting +me by returning my love?' + +"She gazed fixedly into his face, as though +struck by that new idea. Distrust and a desire to +be convinced were expressed in her eyes. What +eyes they were! They sparkled just like two +glowing coals. + +"'Listen, my dear, good Bela!' continued +Pechorin. 'You see how I love you. I am ready +to give up everything to make you cheerful once +more. I want you to be happy, and, if you are +going to be sad again, I shall die. Tell me, you +will be more cheerful?' + +"She fell into thought, her black eyes still +fixed upon him. Then she smiled graciously and +nodded her head in token of acquiescence. + +"He took her by the hand and tried to induce +her to kiss him. She defended herself feebly, and +only repeated: 'Please! Please! You mustn't, +you mustn't!' + +"He went on to insist; she began to tremble +and weep. + +"'I am your captive,' she said, 'your slave; +of course, you can compel me.' + +"And then, again -- tears. + +"Grigori Aleksandrovich struck his forehead +with his fist and sprang into the other room. I +went in to see him, and found him walking +moodily backwards and forwards with folded +arms. + +"'Well, old man?' I said to him. + +"'She is a devil -- not a woman!' he answered. +'But I give you my word of honour that she +shall be mine!' + +"I shook my head. + +"'Will you bet with me?' he said. 'In a +week's time?' + +"'Very well,' I answered. + +"We shook hands on it and separated. + +"The next day he immediately despatched an +express messenger to Kizlyar to purchase some +things for him. The messenger brought back a +quite innumerable quantity of various Persian +stuffs. + +"'What think you, Maksim Maksimych?' he +said to me, showing the presents. 'Will our +Asiatic beauty hold out against such a battery +as this?' + +"'You don't know the Circassian women,' I +answered. 'They are not at all the same as the +Georgian or the Transcaucasian Tartar women -- +not at all! They have their own principles, they +are brought up differently.' + +"Grigori Aleksandrovich smiled and began to +whistle a march to himself." + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"AS things fell out, however," continued +Maksim Maksimych, "I was right, you +see. The presents produced only half an effect. +She became more gracious more trustful -- but +that was all. Pechorin accordingly determined +upon a last expedient. One morning he ordered +his horse to be saddled, dressed himself as a Cir- +cassian, armed himself, and went into her room. + +"'Bela,' he said. 'You know how I love +you. I decided to carry you off, thinking that +when you grew to know me you would give me +your love. I was mistaken. Farewell! Re- +main absolute mistress of all I possess. Return +to your father if you like -- you are free. I have +acted wrongfully towards you, and I must punish +myself. Farewell! I am going. Whither? -- +How should I know? Perchance I shall not +have long to court the bullet or the sabre-stroke. +Then remember me and forgive.' + +"He turned away, and stretched out his hand +to her in farewell. She did not take his hand, +but remained silent. But I, standing there +behind the door, was able through a chink to +observe her countenance, and I felt sorry for +her -- such a deathly pallor shrouded that charm- +ing little face! Hearing no answer, Pechorin took +a few steps towards the door. He was trembling, +and -- shall I tell you? -- I think that he was in a +state to perform in very fact what he had been +saying in jest! He was just that sort of man, +Heaven knows! + +"He had scarcely touched the door, however, +when Bela sprang to her feet, burst out sobbing, +and threw herself on his neck! Would you believe +it? I, standing there behind the door, fell to +weeping too, that is to say, you know, not exactly +weeping -- but just -- well, something foolish!" + +The staff-captain became silent. + +"Yes, I confess," he said after a while, tugging +at his moustache, "I felt hurt that not one +woman had ever loved me like that." + +"Was their happiness lasting?" I asked. + +"Yes, she admitted that, from the day she had +first cast eyes on Pechorin, she had often dreamed +of him, and that no other man had ever pro- +duced such an impression upon her. Yes, they +were happy!" + +"How tiresome!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. + +In point of fact, I had been expecting a tragic +ending -- when, lo! he must needs disappoint my +hopes in such an unexpected manner! . . . + +"Is it possible, though," I continued, "that +her father did not guess that she was with you +in the fortress?" + +"Well, you must know, he seems to have had +his suspicions. After a few days, we learned that +the old man had been murdered. This is how +it happened." . . . + +My attention was aroused anew. + +"I must tell you that Kazbich imagined that +the horse had been stolen by Azamat with his +father's consent; at any rate, that is what I +suppose. So, one day, Kazbich went and waited +by the roadside, about three versts beyond the +village. The old man was returning from one +of his futile searches for his daughter; his re- +tainers were lagging behind. It was dusk. +Deep in thought, he was riding at a walking +pace when, suddenly, Kazbich darted out like a +cat from behind a bush, sprang up behind him +on the horse, flung him to the ground with a +thrust of his dagger, seized the bridle and was +off. A few of the retainers saw the whole affair +from the hill; they dashed off in pursuit of +Kazbich, but failed to overtake him." + +"He requited himself for the loss of his +horse, and took his revenge at the same time," I +said, with a view to evoking my companion's +opinion. + +"Of course, from their point of view," said +the staff-captain, "he was perfectly right." + +I was involuntarily struck by the aptitude +which the Russian displays for accommodating +himself to the customs of the people in whose +midst he happens to be living. I know not +whether this mental quality is deserving of +censure or commendation, but it proves the +incredible pliancy of his mind and the presence +of that clear common sense which pardons evil +wherever it sees that evil is inevitable or im- +possible of annihilation. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN the meantime we had finished our tea. +The horses, which had been put to long +before, were freezing in the snow. In the west +the moon was growing pale, and was just on the +point of plunging into the black clouds which +were hanging over the distant summits like the +shreds of a torn curtain. We went out of the +hut. Contrary to my fellow-traveller's pre- +diction, the weather had cleared up, and there +was a promise of a calm morning. The dancing +choirs of the stars were interwoven in wondrous +patterns on the distant horizon, and, one after +another, they flickered out as the wan resplendence +of the east suffused the dark, lilac vault of heaven, +gradually illumining the steep mountain slopes, +covered with the virgin snows. To right and +left loomed grim and mysterious chasms, and +masses of mist, eddying and coiling like snakes, +were creeping thither along the furrows of the +neighbouring cliffs, as though sentient and fear- +ful of the approach of day. + +All was calm in heaven and on earth, calm as +within the heart of a man at the moment of +morning prayer; only at intervals a cool wind +rushed in from the east, lifting the horses' manes +which were covered with hoar-frost. We started +off. The five lean jades dragged our wagons +with difficulty along the tortuous road up Mount +Get. We ourselves walked behind, placing stones +under the wheels whenever the horses were spent. +The road seemed to lead into the sky, for, so far +as the eye could discern, it still mounted up and +up, until finally it was lost in the cloud which, +since early evening, had been resting on the sum- +mit of Mount Get, like a kite awaiting its prey. +The snow crunched under our feet. The atmo- +sphere grew so rarefied that to breathe was pain- +ful; ever and anon the blood rushed to my head, +but withal a certain rapturous sensation was +diffused throughout my veins and I felt a species +of delight at being so high up above the world. +A childish feeling, I admit, but, when we retire +from the conventions of society and draw close +to nature, we involuntarily become as children: +each attribute acquired by experience falls away +from the soul, which becomes anew such as it was +once and will surely be again. He whose lot it +has been, as mine has been, to wander over the +desolate mountains, long, long to observe their +fantastic shapes, greedily to gulp down the life- +giving air diffused through their ravines -- he, of +course, will understand my desire to communicate, +to narrate, to sketch those magic pictures. + +Well, at length we reached the summit of +Mount Gut and, halting, looked around us. +Upon the mountain a grey cloud was hanging, +and its cold breath threatened the approach of +a storm; but in the east everything was so clear +and golden that we -- that is, the staff-captain +and I -- forgot all about the cloud. . . Yes, the +staff-captain too; in simple hearts the feeling +for the beauty and grandeur of nature is a +hundred-fold stronger and more vivid than in +us, ecstatic composers of narratives in words and +on paper. + +"You have grown accustomed, I suppose, to +these magnificent pictures!" I said. + +"Yes, sir, you can even grow accustomed to +the whistling of a bullet, that is to say, accus- +tomed to concealing the involuntary thumping +of your heart." + +"I have heard, on the contrary, that many an +old warrior actually finds that music agreeable." + +"Of course, if it comes to that, it is agree- +able; but only just because the heart beats +more violently. Look!" he added, pointing +towards the east. "What a country!" + +And, indeed, such a panorama I can hardly +hope to see elsewhere. Beneath us lay the +Koishaur Valley, intersected by the Aragva and +another stream as if by two silver threads; a +bluish mist was gliding along the valley, fleeing +into the neighbouring defiles from the warm +rays of the morning. To right and left the +mountain crests, towering higher and higher, +intersected each other and stretched out, covered +with snows and thickets; in the distance were +the same mountains, which now, however, had +the appearance of two cliffs, one like to the +other. And all these snows were burning in the +crimson glow so merrily and so brightly that it +seemed as though one could live in such a place +for ever. The sun was scarcely visible behind the +dark-blue mountain, which only a practised eye +could distinguish from a thunder-cloud; but +above the sun was a blood-red streak to which +my companion directed particular attention. + +"I told you," he exclaimed, "that there +would be dirty weather to-day! We must make +haste, or perhaps it will catch us on Mount +Krestov. -- Get on!" he shouted to the drivers. + +Chains were put under the wheels in place of +drags, so that they should not slide, the drivers +took the horses by the reins, and the descent +began. On the right was a cliff, on the left a +precipice, so deep that an entire village of +Ossetes at the bottom looked like a swallow's +nest. I shuddered, as the thought occurred to +me that often in the depth of night, on that +very road, where two wagons could not pass, +a courier drives some ten times a year without +climbing down from his rickety vehicle. One +of our drivers was a Russian peasant from Yaro- +slavl, the other, an Ossete. The latter took out +the leaders in good time and led the shaft-horse +by the reins, using every possible precaution -- +but our heedless compatriot did not even climb +down from his box! When I remarked to him +that he might put himself out a bit, at least in +the interests of my portmanteau, for which I +had not the slightest desire to clamber down into +the abyss, he answered: + +"Eh, master, with the help of Heaven we +shall arrive as safe and sound as the others; it's +not our first time, you know." + +And he was right. We might just as easily +have failed to arrive at all; but arrive we did, +for all that. And if people would only reason +a little more they would be convinced that life +is not worth taking such a deal of trouble +about. + +Perhaps, however, you would like to know the +conclusion of the story of Bela? In the first +place, this is not a novel, but a collection of +travelling-notes, and, consequently, I cannot make +the staff-captain tell the story sooner than he +actually proceeded to tell it. Therefore, you +must wait a bit, or, if you like, turn over a few +pages. Though I do not advise you to do the +latter, because the crossing of Mount Krestov +(or, as the erudite Gamba calls it, le mont St. +Christophe[1]) is worthy of your curiosity. + +[1] Krestov is an adjective meaning "of the cross" +(Krest=cross); and, of course, is not the Russian for +"Christophe." + +Well, then, we descended Mount Gut into the +Chertov Valley. . . There's a romantic desig- +nation for you! Already you have a vision of +the evil spirit's nest amid the inaccessible cliffs -- +but you are out of your reckoning there. The +name "Chertov" is derived from the word +cherta (boundary-line) and not from chort (devil), +because, at one time, the valley marked the +boundary of Georgia. We found it choked with +snow-drifts, which reminded us rather vividly +of Saratov, Tambov, and other charming localities +of our fatherland. + +"Look, there is Krestov!" said the staff- +captain, when we had descended into the Chertov +Valley, as he pointed out a hill covered with a +shroud of snow. Upon the summit stood out +the black outline of a stone cross, and past it led +an all but imperceptible road which travellers +use only when the side-road is obstructed with +snow. Our drivers, declaring that no avalanches +had yet fallen, spared the horses by conducting +us round the mountain. At a turning we met +four or five Ossetes, who offered us their services; +and, catching hold of the wheels, proceeded, with +a shout, to drag and hold up our cart. And, in- +deed, it is a dangerous road; on the right were +masses of snow hanging above us, and ready, it +seemed, at the first squall of wind to break off +and drop into the ravine; the narrow road was +partly covered with snow, which, in many places, +gave way under our feet and, in others, was +converted into ice by the action of the sun by +day and the frosts by night, so that the horses +kept falling, and it was with difficulty that we +ourselves made our way. On the left yawned a +deep chasm, through which rolled a torrent, now +hiding beneath a crust of ice, now leaping and +foaming over the black rocks. In two hours we +were barely able to double Mount Krestov -- two +versts in two hours! Meanwhile the clouds had +descended, hail and snow fell; the wind, burst- +ing into the ravines, howled and whistled like +Nightingale the Robber.[1] Soon the stone cross +was hidden in the mist, the billows of which, in +ever denser and more compact masses, rushed in +from the east. . . + +[1] A legendary Russian hero whose whistling knocked people +down. + +Concerning that stone cross, by the way, +there exists the strange, but widespread, tradition +that it had been set up by the Emperor Peter +the First when travelling through the Caucasus. +In the first place, however, the Emperor went no +farther than Daghestan; and, in the second +place, there is an inscription in large letters on the +cross itself, to the effect that it had been erected +by order of General Ermolov, and that too in the +year 1824. Nevertheless, the tradition has taken +such firm root, in spite of the inscription, that +really you do not know what to believe; the more +so, as it is not the custom to believe inscriptions. + +To reach the station Kobi, we still had to +descend about five versts, across ice-covered rocks +and plashy snow. The horses were exhausted; we +were freezing; the snowstorm droned with ever- +increasing violence, exactly like the storms of +our own northern land, only its wild melodies +were sadder and more melancholy. + +"O Exile," I thought, "thou art weeping +for thy wide, free steppes! There mayest thou +unfold thy cold wings, but here thou art stifled +and confined, like an eagle beating his wings, with +a shriek, against the grating of his iron cage!" + +"A bad look out," said the staff-captain. +"Look! There's nothing to be seen all round +but mist and snow. At any moment we may +tumble into an abyss or stick fast in a cleft; and +a little lower down, I dare say, the Baidara has +risen so high that there is no getting across it. +Oh, this Asia, I know it! Like people, like +rivers! There's no trusting them at all!" + +The drivers, shouting and cursing, belaboured +the horses, which snorted, resisted obstinately, +and refused to budge on any account, notwith- +standing the eloquence of the whips. + +"Your honour," one of the drivers said to me +at length, "you see, we will never reach Kobi +to-day. Won't you give orders to turn to the +left while we can? There is something black +yonder on the slope -- probably huts. Travellers +always stop there in bad weather, sir. They +say," he added, pointing to the Ossetes, "that they +will lead us there if you will give them a tip." + +"I know that, my friend, I know that without +your telling me," said the staff-captain. "Oh, +these beasts! They are delighted to seize any +pretext for extorting a tip!" + +"You must confess, however," I said, "that +we should be worse off without them." + +"Just so, just so," he growled to himself. "I +know them well -- these guides! They scent out +by instinct a chance of taking advantage of +people. As if it was impossible to find the way +without them!" + +Accordingly we turned aside to the left, and, +somehow or other, after a good deal of trouble, +made our way to the wretched shelter, which +consisted of two huts built of stone slabs and +rubble, surrounded by a wall of the same +material. Our ragged hosts received us with +alacrity. I learned afterwards that the Govern- +ment supplies them with money and food upon +condition that they put up travellers who are +overtaken by storm. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"ALL is for the best," I said, sitting down +close by the fire. "Now you will finish +telling me your story about Bela. I am certain +that what you have already told me was not the +end of it." + +"Why are you so certain?" answered the +staff-captain, winking and smiling slyly. + +"Because things don't happen like that. A +story with such an unusual beginning must also +have an unusual ending." + +"You have guessed, of course" . . . + +"I am very glad to hear it." + +"It is all very well for you to be glad, but, +indeed, it makes me sad when I think of it. +Bela was a splendid girl. In the end I grew +accustomed to her just as if she had been my +own daughter, and she loved me. I must tell +you that I have no family. I have had no news +of my father and mother for twelve years or so, +and, in my earlier days, I never thought of +providing myself with a wife -- and now, you +know, it wouldn't do. So I was glad to have +found someone to spoil. She used to sing to us +or dance the Lezginka.[1] . . And what a dancer +she was! I have seen our own ladies in provincial +society; and on one occasion, sir, about twenty +years ago, I was even in the Nobles' Club at +Moscow -- but was there a woman to be com- +pared with her? Not one! Grigori Aleksandro- +vich dressed her up like a doll, petted and +pampered her, and it was simply astonishing to +see how pretty she grew while she lived with us. +The sunburn disappeared from her face and +hands, and a rosy colour came into her cheeks. . . +What a merry girl she was! Always making +fun of me, the little rogue! . . . Heaven forgive +her!" + +[1] Lezghian dance. + +"And when you told her of her father's +death?" + +"We kept it a secret from her for a long time, +until she had grown accustomed to her position; +and then, when she was told, she cried for a day +or two and forgot all about it. + +"For four months or so everything went on +as well as it possibly could. Grigori Aleksandro- +vich, as I think I have already mentioned, was +passionately fond of hunting; he was always +craving to be off into the forest after boars or +wild goats -- but now it would be as much as he +would do to go beyond the fortress rampart. +All at once, however, I saw that he was beginning +again to have fits of abstraction, walking about +his room with his hands clasped behind his back. +One day after that, without telling anyone, he +set off shooting. During the whole morning he +was not to be seen; then the same thing +happened another time, and so on -- oftener and +oftener. . . + +"'This looks bad!' I said to myself. 'Some- +thing must have come between them!' + +"One morning I paid them a visit -- I can +see it all in my mind's eye, as if it was happening +now. Bela was sitting on the bed, wearing a +black silk jacket, and looking rather pale and +so sad that I was alarmed. + +"'Where is Pechorin?' I asked. + +"'Hunting.' + +"'When did he go -- to-day?' + +"'She was silent, as if she found a difficulty in +answering. + +"'No, he has been gone since yesterday,' she +said at length, with a heavy sigh. + +"'Surely nothing has happened to him!' + +"'Yesterday I thought and thought the whole +day,' she answered through her tears; 'I +imagined all sorts of misfortunes. At one time +I fancied that he had been wounded by a wild +boar, at another time, that he had been carried +off by a Chechene into the mountains. . . But, +now, I have come to think that he no longer +loves me.' + +"'In truth, my dear girl, you could not have +imagined anything worse!' + +"She burst out crying; then, proudly raising +her head, she wiped away the tears and con- +tinued: + +"'If he does not love me, then who prevents +him sending me home? I am not putting any +constraint on him. But, if things go on like this, +I will go away myself -- I am not a slave, I am +a prince's daughter!' . . . + +"I tried to talk her over. + +"'Listen, Bela. You see it is impossible for him +to stop in here with you for ever, as if he was +sewn on to your petticoat. He is a young man +and fond of hunting. Off he'll go, but you will +find that he will come back; and, if you are +going to be unhappy, you will soon make him +tired of you.' + +"'True, true!' she said. 'I will be +merry.' + +"And with a burst of laughter, she seized her +tambourine, began to sing, dance, and gambol +around me. But that did not last long either; +she fell upon the bed again and buried her face +in her hands. + +"What could I do with her? You know I +have never been accustomed to the society of +women. I thought and thought how to cheer +her up, but couldn't hit on anything. For some +time both of us remained silent. . . A most +unpleasant situation, sir! + +"At length I said to her: + +"'Would you like us to go and take a walk on +the rampart? The weather is splendid.' + +"This was in September, and indeed it was a +wonderful day, bright and not too hot. The +mountains could be seen as clearly as though +they were but a hand's-breadth away. We went, +and walked in silence to and fro along the +rampart of the fortress. At length she sat down +on the sward, and I sat beside her. In truth, now, +it is funny to think of it all! I used to run after +her just like a kind of children's nurse! + +"Our fortress was situated in a lofty position, +and the view from the rampart was superb. On +one side, the wide clearing, seamed by a few +clefts, was bounded by the forest which stretched +out to the very ridge of the mountains. Here +and there, on the clearing, villages were to be +seen sending forth their smoke, and there were +droves of horses roaming about. On the other +side flowed a tiny stream, and close to its banks +came the dense undergrowth which covered the +flinty heights joining the principal chain of the +Caucasus. We sat in a corner of the bastion, so +that we could see everything on both sides. +Suddenly I perceived someone on a grey horse +riding out of the forest; nearer and nearer he +approached until finally he stopped on the far +side of the river, about a hundred fathoms from +us, and began to wheel his horse round and round +like one possessed. 'Strange!' I thought. + +"'Look, look, Bela,' I said, 'you've got young +eyes -- what sort of a horseman is that? Who is +it he has come to amuse?' . . . + +"'It is Kazbich!' she exclaimed after a +glance. + +"'Ah, the robber! Come to laugh at us, +has he?' + +"I looked closely, and sure enough it was +Kazbich, with his swarthy face, and as ragged +and dirty as ever. + +"'It is my father's horse!' said Bela, seizing +my arm. + +"She was trembling like a leaf and her eyes +were sparkling. + +"'Aha!' I said to myself. 'There is robber's +blood in your veins still, my dear!' + +"'Come here,' I said to the sentry. 'Look to +your gun and unhorse that gallant for me -- and +you shall have a silver ruble.' + +"'Very well, your honour, only he won't keep +still.' + +"'Tell him to!' I said, with a laugh. + +"'Hey, friend!' cried the sentry, waving +his hand. 'Wait a bit. What are you spinning +round like a humming-top for?' + +"Kazbich halted and gave ear to the sentry -- +probably thinking that we were going to parley +with him. Quite the contrary! . . . My grena- +dier took aim. . . Bang! . . . Missed! . . . +Just as the powder flashed in the pan Kazbich +jogged his horse, which gave a bound to one side. +He stood up in his stirrups, shouted something +in his own language, made a threatening gesture +with his whip -- and was off. + +"'Aren't you ashamed of yourself?' I said +to the sentry. + +"'He has gone away to die, your honour,' he +answered. 'There's no killing a man of that +cursed race at one stroke.' + +"A quarter of an hour later Pechorin returned +from hunting. Bela threw herself on his neck +without a single complaint, without a single +reproach for his lengthy absence! . . . Even I +was angry with him by this time! + +"'Good heavens!' I said; 'why, I tell you, +Kazbich was here on the other side of the river +just a moment ago, and we shot at him. How +easily you might have run up against him, you +know! These mountaineers are a vindictive +race! Do you suppose he does not guess that you +gave Azamat some help? And I wager that he +recognised Bela to-day! I know he was desper- +ately fond of her a year ago -- he told me so +himself -- and, if he had had any hope of getting +together a proper bridegroom's gift, he would +certainly have sought her in marriage.' + +"At this Pechorin became thoughtful. + +"'Yes,' he answered. 'We must be more +cautious -- Bela, from this day forth you mustn't +walk on the rampart any more.' + +"In the evening I had a lengthy explanation +with him. I was vexed that his feelings towards +the poor girl had changed; to say nothing of his +spending half the day hunting, his manner +towards her had become cold. He rarely caressed +her, and she was beginning perceptibly to pine +away; her little face was becoming drawn, +her large eyes growing dim. + +"'What are you sighing for, Bela?' I would +ask her. 'Are you sad?' + +"'No!' + +"'Do you want anything?' + +"'No!' + +"'You are pining for your kinsfolk?' + +"'I have none!' + +"Sometimes for whole days not a word could +be drawn from her but 'Yes' and 'No.' + +"So I straightway proceeded to talk to +Pechorin about her." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"'LISTEN, Maksim Maksimych,' said Pech- +orin. 'Mine is an unfortunate dis- +position; whether it is the result of my up- +bringing or whether it is innate -- I know not. +I only know this, that if I am the cause of un- +happiness in others I myself am no less unhappy. +Of course, that is a poor consolation to them -- +only the fact remains that such is the case. +In my early youth, from the moment I ceased +to be under the guardianship of my relations, I +began madly to enjoy all the pleasures which +money could buy -- and, of course, such pleasures +became irksome to me. Then I launched out +into the world of fashion -- and that, too, soon +palled upon me. I fell in love with fashionable +beauties and was loved by them, but my imagina- +tion and egoism alone were aroused; my heart +remained empty. . . I began to read, to study -- +but sciences also became utterly wearisome to me. +I saw that neither fame nor happiness depends +on them in the least, because the happiest +people are the uneducated, and fame is good +fortune, to attain which you have only to be +smart. Then I grew bored. . . Soon after- +wards I was transferred to the Caucasus; and +that was the happiest time of my life. I hoped +that under the bullets of the Chechenes boredom +could not exist -- a vain hope! In a month I +grew so accustomed to the buzzing of the bullets +and to the proximity of death that, to tell the +truth, I paid more attention to the gnats -- and +I became more bored than ever, because I had +lost what was almost my last hope. When I saw +Bela in my own house; when, for the first time, +I held her on my knee and kissed her black locks, I, +fool that I was, thought that she was an angel +sent to me by sympathetic fate. . . Again +I was mistaken; the love of a savage is little +better than that of your lady of quality, the +barbaric ignorance and simplicity of the one +weary you as much as the coquetry of the other. +I am not saying that I do not love her still; I +am grateful to her for a few fairly sweet moments; +I would give my life for her -- only I am bored +with her. . . Whether I am a fool or a villain +I know not; but this is certain, I am also most +deserving of pity -- perhaps more than she. My +soul has been spoiled by the world, my imagination +is unquiet, my heart insatiate. To me everything +is of little moment. I become as easily accus- +tomed to grief as to joy, and my life grows emptier +day by day. One expedient only is left to me -- +travel. + +"'As soon as I can, I shall set off -- but not to +Europe. Heaven forfend! I shall go to America, +to Arabia, to India -- perchance I shall die some- +where on the way. At any rate, I am convinced +that, thanks to storms and bad roads, that last +consolation will not quickly be exhausted!' + +"For a long time he went on speaking thus, +and his words have remained stamped upon my +memory, because it was the first time that I had +heard such things from a man of five-and-twenty +-- and Heaven grant it may be the last. Isn't it +astonishing? Tell me, please," continued the +staff-captain, appealing to me. "You used to +live in the Capital, I think, and that not so very +long ago. Is it possible that the young men there +are all like that?" + +I replied that there were a good many people +who used the same sort of language, that, prob- +ably, there might even be some who spoke in all +sincerity; that disillusionment, moreover, like +all other vogues, having had its beginning in the +higher strata of society, had descended to the +lower, where it was being worn threadbare, +and that, now, those who were really and truly +bored strove to conceal their misfortune as if it +were a vice. The staff-captain did not under- +stand these subtleties, shook his head, and smiled +slyly. + +"Anyhow, I suppose it was the French who +introduced the fashion?" + +"No, the English." + +"Aha, there you are!" he answered. "They +always have been arrant drunkards, you know!" + +Involuntarily I recalled to mind a certain lady, +living in Moscow, who used to maintain that +Byron was nothing more nor less than a drunkard. +However, the staff-captain's observation was +more excusable; in order to abstain from strong +drink, he naturally endeavoured to convince +himself that all the misfortunes in the world are +the result of drunkenness. + + + +CHAPTER X + +MEANWHILE the staff-captain continued +his story. + +"Kazbich never put in an appearance again; +but somehow -- I don't know why -- I could not +get the idea out of my head that he had had a +reason for coming, and that some mischievous +scheme was in his mind. + +"Well, one day Pechorin tried to persuade +me to go boar-hunting with him. For a long +time I refused. What novelty was a wild boar +to me? + +"However, off he dragged me, all the same. +We took four or five soldiers and set out early +in the morning. Up till ten o'clock we scurried +about the reeds and the forest -- there wasn't a +wild beast to be found! + +"'I say, oughtn't we to be going back?' I +said. 'What's the use of sticking at it? It is +evident enough that we have happened on an +unlucky day!' + +"But, in spite of heat and fatigue, Pechorin +didn't like to return empty-handed. . . That +is just the kind of man he was; whatever he set +his heart on he had to have -- evidently, in his +childhood, he had been spoiled by an indulgent +mother. At last, at midday, we discovered one +of those cursed wild boars -- Bang! Bang! -- No +good! -- Off it went into the reeds. That was +an unlucky day, to be sure! . . . So, after a +short rest, we set off homeward. . . + +"We rode in silence, side by side, giving the +horses their head. We had almost reached the +fortress, and only the brushwood concealed it +from view. Suddenly a shot rang out. . . We +glanced at each other, both struck with the self- +same suspicion. . . We galloped headlong in +the direction of the shot, looked, and saw the +soldiers clustered together on the rampart and +pointing towards a field, along which a rider was +flying at full speed, holding something white +across his saddle. Grigori Aleksandrovich yelled +like any Chechene, whipped his gun from its +cover, and gave chase -- I after him. + +"Luckily, thanks to our unsuccessful hunt, +our horses were not jaded; they strained under +the saddle, and with every moment we drew +nearer and nearer. . . At length I recognised +Kazbich, only I could not make out what it was +that he was holding in front of him. + +"Then I drew level with Pechorin and shouted +to him: + +"'It is Kazbich!' + +"He looked at me, nodded, and struck his +horse with his whip. + +"At last we were within gunshot of Kazbich. +Whether it was that his horse was jaded or +not so good as ours, I don't know, but, in +spite of all his efforts, it did not get along very +fast. I fancy at that moment he remembered his +Karagyoz! + +"I looked at Pechorin. He was taking aim +as he galloped. . . + +"'Don't shoot,' I cried. 'Save the shot! +We will catch up with him as it is.' + +"Oh, these young men! Always taking fire +at the wrong moment! The shot rang out and +the bullet broke one of the horse's hind legs. It +gave a few fiery leaps forward, stumbled, and +fell to its knees. Kazbich sprang off, and then +we perceived that it was a woman he was holding +in his arms -- a woman wrapped in a veil. It +was Bela -- poor Bela! He shouted something +to us in his own language and raised his dagger +over her. . . Delay was useless; I fired in my +turn, at haphazard. Probably the bullet struck +him in the shoulder, because he dropped his +hand suddenly. When the smoke cleared off, we +could see the wounded horse lying on the ground +and Bela beside it; but Kazbich, his gun flung +away, was clambering like a cat up the cliff, +through the brushwood. I should have liked +to have brought him down from there -- but I +hadn't a charge ready. We jumped off our +horses and rushed to Bela. Poor girl! She was +lying motionless, and the blood was pouring in +streams from her wound. The villain! If he +had struck her to the heart -- well and good, +everything would at least have been finished there +and then; but to stab her in the back like +that -- the scoundrel! She was unconscious. We +tore the veil into strips and bound up the +wound as tightly as we could. In vain Pechorin +kissed her cold lips -- it was impossible to bring +her to. + +"Pechorin mounted; I lifted Bela from the +ground and somehow managed to place her +before him on his saddle; he put his arm round +her and we rode back. + +"'Look here, Maksim Maksimych,' said +Grigori Aleksandrovich, after a few moments of +silence. 'We will never bring her in alive like this.' + +"'True!' I said, and we put our horses to a +full gallop. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +"A CROWD was awaiting us at the fortress +gate. Carefully we carried the wounded +girl to Pechorin's quarters, and then we sent for +the doctor. The latter was drunk, but he came, +examined the wound, and announced that she +could not live more than a day. He was mistaken, +though." + +"She recovered?" I asked the staff-captain, +seizing him by the arm, and involuntarily re- +joicing. + +"No," he replied, "but the doctor was so far +mistaken that she lived two days longer." + +"Explain, though, how Kazbich made off +with her!" + +"It was like this: in spite of Pechorin's pro- +hibition, she went out of the fortress and down +to the river. It was a very hot day, you know, +and she sat on a rock and dipped her feet in +the water. Up crept Kazbich, pounced upon her, +silenced her, and dragged her into the bushes. +Then he sprang on his horse and made off. +In the meantime she succeeded in crying out, +the sentries took the alarm, fired, but wide of the +mark; and thereupon we arrived on the scene." + +"But what did Kazbich want to carry her off +for?" + +"Good gracious! Why, everyone knows these +Circassians are a race of thieves; they can't keep +their hands off anything that is left lying about! +They may not want a thing, but they will steal +it, for all that. Still, you mustn't be too hard on +them. And, besides, he had been in love with +her for a long time." + +"And Bela died?" + +"Yes, she died, but she suffered for a long time, +and we were fairly knocked up with her, I can +tell you. About ten o'clock in the evening she +came to herself. We were sitting by her bed. +As soon as ever she opened her eyes she began to +call Pechorin. + +"'I am here beside you, my janechka' (that is, +'my darling'), he answered, taking her by the +hand. + +"'I shall die,' she said. + +"We began to comfort her, telling her that +the doctor had promised infallibly to cure her. +She shook her little head and turned to the wall -- +she did not want to die! . . . + +"At night she became delirious, her head +burned, at times a feverish paroxysm convulsed +her whole body. She talked incoherently about +her father, her brother; she yearned for the +mountains, for her home. . . Then she spoke +of Pechorin also, called him various fond names, +or reproached him for having ceased to love his +janechka. + +He listened to her in silence, his head sunk +in his hands; but yet, during the whole time, I +did not notice a single tear-drop on his lashes. I +do not know whether he was actually unable to +weep or was mastering himself; but for my +part I have never seen anything more pitiful. + +"Towards morning the delirium passed off. +For an hour or so she lay motionless, pale, and so +weak that it was hardly possible to observe that +she was breathing. After that she grew better +and began to talk: only about what, think you? +Such thoughts come only to the dying! . . . +She lamented that she was not a Christian, +that in the other world her soul would +never meet the soul of Grigori Aleksandrovich, +and that in Paradise another woman would be +his companion. The thought occurred to me +to baptize her before her death. I told her my +idea; she looked at me undecidedly, and for a +long time was unable to utter a word. Finally +she answered that she would die in the faith +in which she had been born. A whole day passed +thus. What a change that day made in her! +Her pale cheeks fell in, her eyes grew ever so +large, her lips burned. She felt a consuming +heat within her, as though a red-hot blade was +piercing her breast. + +"The second night came on. We did not +close our eyes or leave the bedside. She +suffered terribly, and groaned; and directly the +pain began to abate she endeavoured to assure +Grigori Aleksandrovich that she felt better, +tried to persuade him to go to bed, kissed his +hand and would not let it out of hers. Before +the morning she began to feel the death agony +and to toss about. She knocked the bandage off, +and the blood flowed afresh. When the wound +was bound up again she grew quiet for a moment +and begged Pechorin to kiss her. He fell on his +knees beside the bed, raised her head from the +pillow, and pressed his lips to hers -- which were +growing cold. She threw her trembling arms +closely round his neck, as if with that kiss she +wished to yield up her soul to him. -- No, she +did well to die! Why, what would have become +of her if Grigori Aleksandrovich had abandoned +her? And that is what would have happened, +sooner or later. + +"During half the following day she was calm, +silent and docile, however much the doctor +tortured her with his fomentations and mixtures. + +"'Good heavens!' I said to him, 'you know +you said yourself that she was certain to die, +so what is the good of all these preparations of +yours?' + +"'Even so, it is better to do all this,' he replied, +'so that I may have an easy conscience.' + +"A pretty conscience, forsooth! + +"After midday Bela began to suffer from +thirst. We opened the windows, but it was +hotter outside than in the room; we placed +ice round the bed -- all to no purpose. I knew +that that intolerable thirst was a sign of the +approaching end, and I told Pechorin so. + +"'Water, water!' she said in a hoarse voice, +raising herself up from the bed. + +"Pechorin turned pale as a sheet, seized a +glass, filled it, and gave it to her. I covered my +eyes with my hands and began to say a prayer -- +I can't remember what. . . Yes, my friend, +many a time have I seen people die in hospitals +or on the field of battle, but this was something +altogether different! Still, this one thing grieves +me, I must confess: she died without even once +calling me to mind. Yet I loved her, I should +think, like a father! . . . Well, God forgive +her! . . . And, to tell the truth, what am I +that she should have remembered me when she +was dying? . . . + +"As soon as she had drunk the water, she grew +easier -- but in about three minutes she breathed +her last! We put a looking-glass to her lips -- it +was undimmed! + +"I led Pechorin from the room, and we went +on to the fortress rampart. For a long time we +walked side by side, to and fro, speaking not a +word and with our hands clasped behind our +backs. His face expressed nothing out of the +common -- and that vexed me. Had I been in his +place, I should have died of grief. At length he +sat down on the ground in the shade and began +to draw something in the sand with his stick. +More for form's sake than anything, you know, +I tried to console him and began to talk. He +raised his head and burst into a laugh! At that +laugh a cold shudder ran through me. . . I +went away to order a coffin. + +"I confess it was partly to distract my thoughts +that I busied myself in that way. I possessed a +little piece of Circassian stuff, and I covered the +coffin with it, and decked it with some Circassian +silver lace which Grigori Aleksandrovich had +bought for Bela herself. + +"Early next morning we buried her behind the +fortress, by the river, beside the spot where she +had sat for the last time. Around her little +grave white acacia shrubs and elder-trees have +now grown up. I should have liked to erect a +cross, but that would not have done, you know -- +after all, she was not a Christian." + +"And what of Pechorin?" I asked. + +"Pechorin was ill for a long time, and grew +thin, poor fellow; but we never spoke of Bela +from that time forth. I saw that it would be dis- +agreeable to him, so what would have been the +use? About three months later he was appointed +to the E---- Regiment, and departed for +Georgia. We have never met since. Yet, when +I come to think of it, somebody told me not long +ago that he had returned to Russia -- but it was +not in the general orders for the corps. Besides, +to the like of us news is late in coming." + +Hereupon -- probably to drown sad memories -- +he launched forth into a lengthy dissertation +on the unpleasantness of learning news a year +late. + +I did not interrupt him, nor did I listen. + +In an hour's time a chance of proceeding on +our journey presented itself. The snowstorm +subsided, the sky became clear, and we set off. +On the way I involuntarily let the conversation +turn on Bela and Pechorin. + +"You have not heard what became of Kaz- +bich?" I asked. + +"Kazbich? In truth, I don't know. I have +heard that with the Shapsugs, on our right flank, +there is a certain Kazbich, a dare-devil fellow +who rides about at a walking pace, in a red tunic, +under our bullets, and bows politely whenever +one hums near him -- but it can scarcely be the +same person!" . . . + +In Kobi, Maksim Maksimych and I parted +company. I posted on, and he, on account of +his heavy luggage, was unable to follow me. +We had no expectation of ever meeting again, +but meet we did, and, if you like, I will tell you +how -- it is quite a history. . . You must +acknowledge, though, that Maksim Maksimych +is a man worthy of all respect. . . If you +admit that, I shall be fully rewarded for my, +perhaps, too lengthy story. + + + +BOOK II MAKSIM MAKSIMYCH + +AFTER parting with Maksim Maksimych, I +galloped briskly through the gorges of the +Terek and Darial, breakfasted in Kazbek, drank +tea in Lars, and arrived at Vladikavkaz in time +for supper. I spare you a description of the +mountains, as well as exclamations which convey +no meaning, and word-paintings which convey +no image -- especially to those who have never +been in the Caucasus. I also omit statistical +observations, which I am quite sure nobody +would read. + +I put up at the inn which is frequented by all +who travel in those parts, and where, by the way, +there is no one you can order to roast your +pheasant and cook your cabbage-soup, because +the three veterans who have charge of the inn +are either so stupid, or so drunk, that it is +impossible to knock any sense at all out of +them. + +I was informed that I should have to stay +there three days longer, because the "Adventure" +had not yet arrived from Ekaterinograd and +consequently could not start on the return +journey. What a misadventure![1] . . . But a +bad pun is no consolation to a Russian, and, for +the sake of something to occupy my thoughts, +I took it into my head to write down the story +about Bela, which I had heard from Maksim +Maksimych -- never imagining that it would be +the first link in a long chain of novels: you see +how an insignificant event has sometimes dire +results! . . . Perhaps, however, you do not +know what the "Adventure" is? It is a convoy +-- composed of half a company of infantry, with +a cannon -- which escorts baggage-trains through +Kabardia from Vladikavkaz to Ekaterinograd. + + +[1] In Russian -- okaziya=occasion, adventure, etc.; chto za +okaziya=how unfortunate! + +The first day I found the time hang on my +hands dreadfully. Early next morning a vehicle +drove into the courtyard. . . Aha! Maksim +Maksimych! . . . We met like a couple of old +friends. I offered to share my own room with +him, and he accepted my hospitality without +standing upon ceremony; he even clapped me +on the shoulder and puckered up his mouth by +way of a smile -- a queer fellow, that! . . . + +Maksim Maksimych was profoundly versed in +the culinary art. He roasted the pheasant +astonishingly well and basted it successfully with +cucumber sauce. I was obliged to acknowledge +that, but for him, I should have had to remain on +a dry-food diet. A bottle of Kakhetian wine +helped us to forget the modest number of dishes +-- of which there was one, all told. Then we lit +our pipes, took our chairs, and sat down -- I by +the window, and he by the stove, in which a fire +had been lighted because the day was damp and +cold. We remained silent. What had we to +talk about? He had already told me all that +was of interest about himself and I had nothing +to relate. I looked out of the window. Here +and there, behind the trees, I caught glimpses of +a number of poor, low houses straggling along +the bank of the Terek, which flowed seaward in +an ever-widening stream; farther off rose the +dark-blue, jagged wall of the mountains, behind +which Mount Kazbek gazed forth in his high- +priest's hat of white. I took a mental farewell +of them; I felt sorry to leave them. . . + +Thus we sat for a considerable time. The sun +was sinking behind the cold summits and a +whitish mist was beginning to spread over the +valleys, when the silence was broken by the +jingling of the bell of a travelling-carriage and +the shouting of drivers in the street. A few +vehicles, accompanied by dirty Armenians, drove +into the courtyard of the inn, and behind them +came an empty travelling-carriage. Its light +movement, comfortable arrangement, and elegant +appearance gave it a kind of foreign stamp. Be- +hind it walked a man with large moustaches. He +was wearing a Hungarian jacket and was rather +well dressed for a manservant. From the bold +manner in which he shook the ashes out of his pipe +and shouted at the coachman it was impossible to +mistake his calling. He was obviously the spoiled +servant of an indolent master -- something in the +nature of a Russian Figaro. + +"Tell me, my good man," I called to him out +of the window. "What is it? -- Has the 'Ad- +venture' arrived, eh?" + +He gave me a rather insolent glance, straight- +ened his cravat, and turned away. An Armenian, +who was walking near him, smiled and answered +for him that the "Adventure" had, in fact, +arrived, and would start on the return journey +the following morning. + +"Thank heavens!" said Maksim Maksimych, +who had come up to the window at that moment. +"What a wonderful carriage!" he added; +"probably it belongs to some official who is +going to Tiflis for a judicial inquiry. You can +see that he is unacquainted with our little +mountains! No, my friend, you're not serious! +They are not for the like of you; why, they +would shake even an English carriage to bits! -- +But who could it be? Let us go and find +out." + +We went out into the corridor, at the end of +which there was an open door leading into a +side room. The manservant and a driver were +dragging portmanteaux into the room. + +"I say, my man!" the staff-captain asked him: +"Whose is that marvellous carriage? -- Eh? -- +A beautiful carriage!" + +Without turning round the manservant +growled something to himself as he undid a +portmanteau. Maksim Maksimych grew angry. + +"I am speaking to you, my friend!" +he said, touching the uncivil fellow on the +shoulder. + +"Whose carriage? -- My master's." + +"And who is your master?" + +"Pechorin --" + +"What did you say? What? Pechorin? -- +Great Heavens! . . . Did he not serve in the +Caucasus?" exclaimed Maksim Maksimych, +plucking me by the sleeve. His eyes were +sparkling with joy. + +"Yes, he served there, I think -- but I have not +been with him long." + +"Well! Just so! . . . Just so! . . . Grigori +Aleksandrovich? . . . that is his name, of +course? Your master and I were friends," he +added, giving the manservant a friendly clap on +the shoulder with such force as to cause him to +stagger. + +"Excuse me, sir, you are hindering me," said +the latter, frowning. + +"What a fellow you are, my friend! Why, +don't you know, your master and I were bosom +friends, and lived together? . . . But where has +he put up?" + +The servant intimated that Pechorin had +stayed to take supper and pass the night at +Colonel N----'s. + +"But won't he be looking in here in the +evening?" said Maksim Maksimych. "Or, you, +my man, won't you be going over to him for +something? . . . If you do, tell him that +Maksim Maksimych is here; just say that -- he'll +know! -- I'll give you half a ruble for a tip!" + +The manservant made a scornful face on +hearing such a modest promise, but he assured +Maksim Maksimych that he would execute his +commission. + +"He'll be sure to come running up directly!" +said Maksim Maksimych, with an air of triumph. +"I will go outside the gate and wait for him! +Ah, it's a pity I am not acquainted with +Colonel N----!" + +Maksim Maksimych sat down on a little bench +outside the gate, and I went to my room. I +confess that I also was awaiting this Pechorin's +appearance with a certain amount of impatience +-- although, from the staff-captain's story, I had +formed a by no means favourable idea of him. +Still, certain traits in his character struck me as +remarkable. In an hour's time one of the +old soldiers brought a steaming samovar and a +teapot. + +"Won't you have some tea, Maksim Mak- +simych?" I called out of the window. + +"Thank you. I am not thirsty, somehow." + +"Oh, do have some! It is late, you know, +and cold!" + +"No, thank you" . . . + +"Well, just as you like!" + +I began my tea alone. About ten minutes +afterwards my old captain came in. + +"You are right, you know; it would be better +to have a drop of tea -- but I was waiting for +Pechorin. His man has been gone a long time +now, but evidently something has detained +him." + +The staff-captain hurriedly sipped a cup of +tea, refused a second, and went off again outside +the gate -- not without a certain amount of dis- +quietude. It was obvious that the old man was +mortified by Pechorin's neglect, the more so +because a short time previously he had been +telling me of their friendship, and up to an hour +ago had been convinced that Pechorin would +come running up immediately on hearing his +name. + +It was already late and dark when I opened +the window again and began to call Maksim +Maksimych, saying that it was time to go to +bed. He muttered something through his +teeth. I repeated my invitation -- he made no +answer. + +I left a candle on the stove-seat, and, wrapping +myself up in my cloak, I lay down on the couch +and soon fell into slumber; and I would have +slept on quietly had not Maksim Maksimych +awakened me as he came into the room. It was +then very late. He threw his pipe on the table, +began to walk up and down the room, and to +rattle about at the stove. At last he lay down, +but for a long time he kept coughing, spitting, +and tossing about. + +"The bugs are biting you, are they not?" +I asked. + +"Yes, that is it," he answered, with a heavy +sigh. + +I woke early the next morning, but Maksim +Maksimych had anticipated me. I found him +sitting on the little bench at the gate. + +"I have to go to the Commandant," he +said, "so, if Pechorin comes, please send for +me." . . . + +I gave my promise. He ran off as if his limbs +had regained their youthful strength and supple- +ness. + +The morning was fresh and lovely. Golden +clouds had massed themselves on the mountain- +tops like a new range of aerial mountains. Before +the gate a wide square spread out; behind it the +bazaar was seething with people, the day being +Sunday. Barefooted Ossete boys, carrying +wallets of honeycomb on their shoulders, were +hovering around me. I cursed them; I had +other things to think of -- I was beginning to +share the worthy staff-captain's uneasiness. + +Before ten minutes had passed the man we +were awaiting appeared at the end of the square. +He was walking with Colonel N., who accom- +panied him as far as the inn, said good-bye to him, +and then turned back to the fortress. I im- +mediately despatched one of the old soldiers for +Maksim Maksimych. + +Pechorin's manservant went out to meet him +and informed him that they were going to put to +at once; he handed him a box of cigars, received +a few orders, and went off about his business. His +master lit a cigar, yawned once or twice, and sat +down on the bench on the other side of the gate. +I must now draw his portrait for you. + +He was of medium height. His shapely, slim +figure and broad shoulders gave evidence of a +strong constitution, capable of enduring all the +hardships of a nomad life and changes of climates, +and of resisting with success both the demoral- +ising effects of life in the Capital and the +tempests of the soul. His velvet overcoat, which +was covered with dust, was fastened by the +two lower buttons only, and exposed to view +linen of dazzling whiteness, which proved that +he had the habits of a gentleman. His gloves, +soiled by travel, seemed as though made ex- +pressly for his small, aristocratic hand, and when +he took one glove off I was astonished at the +thinness of his pale fingers. His gait was care- +less and indolent, but I noticed that he did not +swing his arms -- a sure sign of a certain secretive- +ness of character. These remarks, however, are +the result of my own observations, and I have not +the least desire to make you blindly believe in +them. When he was in the act of seating himself +on the bench his upright figure bent as if there +was not a single bone in his back. The attitude +of his whole body was expressive of a certain +nervous weakness; he looked, as he sat, like one +of Balzac's thirty-year-old coquettes resting in +her downy arm-chair after a fatiguing ball. +From my first glance at his face I should not +have supposed his age to be more than twenty- +three, though afterwards I should have put it +down as thirty. His smile had something of a +child-like quality. His skin possessed a kind of +feminine delicacy. His fair hair, naturally curly, +most picturesquely outlined his pale and noble +brow, on which it was only after lengthy observa- +tion that traces could be noticed of wrinkles, +intersecting each other: probably they showed +up more distinctly in moments of anger or +mental disturbance. Notwithstanding the light +colour of his hair, his moustaches and eyebrows +were black -- a sign of breeding in a man, just as +a black mane and a black tail in a white horse. +To complete the portrait, I will add that he had +a slightly turned-up nose, teeth of dazzling +whiteness, and brown eyes -- I must say a few +words more about his eyes. + +In the first place, they never laughed when he +laughed. Have you not happened, yourself, to +notice the same peculiarity in certain people? . . . +It is a sign either of an evil disposition or of deep +and constant grief. From behind his half- +lowered eyelashes they shone with a kind of +phosphorescent gleam -- if I may so express my- +self -- which was not the reflection of a fervid +soul or of a playful fancy, but a glitter like to +that of smooth steel, blinding but cold. His +glance -- brief, but piercing and heavy -- left the +unpleasant impression of an indiscreet question +and might have seemed insolent had it not been +so unconcernedly tranquil. + +It may be that all these remarks came into my +mind only after I had known some details of his +life, and it may be, too, that his appearance +would have produced an entirely different im- +pression upon another; but, as you will not hear +of him from anyone except myself, you will have +to rest content, nolens volens, with the descrip- +tion I have given. In conclusion, I will say that, +speaking generally, he was a very good-looking +man, and had one of those original types of +countenance which are particularly pleasing to +women. + +The horses were already put to; now and then +the bell jingled on the shaft-bow;[1] and the +manservant had twice gone up to Pechorin with +the announcement that everything was ready, +but still there was no sign of Maksim Maksimych. +Fortunately Pechorin was sunk in thought as he +gazed at the jagged, blue peaks of the Caucasus, +and was apparently by no means in a hurry for +the road. + +[1] The duga. + +I went up to him. + +"If you care to wait a little longer," I said, +"you will have the pleasure of meeting an old +friend." + +"Oh, exactly!" he answered quickly. "They +told me so yesterday. Where is he, though?" + +I looked in the direction of the square and +there I descried Maksim Maksimych running as +hard as he could. In a few moments he was +beside us. He was scarcely able to breathe; +perspiration was rolling in large drops from his +face; wet tufts of grey hair, escaping from +under his cap, were glued to his forehead; his +knees were shaking. . . He was about to throw +himself on Pechorin's neck, but the latter, rather +coldly, though with a smile of welcome, stretched +out his hand to him. For a moment the staff- +captain was petrified, but then eagerly seized +Pechorin's hand in both his own. He was still +unable to speak. + +"How glad I am to see you, my dear Maksim +Maksimych! Well, how are you?" said +Pechorin. + +"And . . . thou . . . you?"[1] murmured +the old man, with tears in his eyes. "What an +age it is since I have seen you! . . . But where +are you off to?" . . . + +[1] "Thou" is the form of address used in speaking to +an intimate friend, etc. Pechorin had used the more formal +"you." + +"I am going to Persia -- and farther." . . . + +"But surely not immediately? . . . Wait a +little, my dear fellow! . . . Surely we are not +going to part at once? . . . What a long time +it is since we have seen each other!" . . . + +"It is time for me to go, Maksim Maksimych," +was the reply. + +"Good heavens, good heavens! But where +are you going to in such a hurry? There was so +much I should have liked to tell you! So much +to question you about! . . . Well, what of your- +self? Have you retired? . . . What? . . . +How have you been getting along?" + +"Getting bored!" answered Pechorin, +smiling. + +"You remember the life we led in the fortress? +A splendid country for hunting! You were +awfully fond of shooting, you know! . . . And +Bela?" . . . + +Pechorin turned just the slightest bit pale and +averted his head. + +"Yes, I remember!" he said, almost im- +mediately forcing a yawn. + +Maksim Maksimych began to beg him to stay +with him for a couple of hours or so longer. + +"We will have a splendid dinner," he said. +"I have two pheasants; and the Kakhetian wine +is excellent here . . . not what it is in Georgia, +of course, but still of the best sort. . . We will +have a talk. . . You will tell me about your +life in Petersburg. . . Eh?" . . . + +"In truth, there's nothing for me to tell, dear +Maksim Maksimych. . . However, good-bye, +it is time for me to be off. . . I am in a hurry. . . +I thank you for not having forgotten me," he +added, taking him by the hand. + +The old man knit his brows. He was +grieved and angry, although he tried to hide +his feelings. + +"Forget!" he growled. "I have not for- +gotten anything. . . Well, God be with you! . . . +It is not like this that I thought we should meet." + +"Come! That will do, that will do!" said +Pechorin, giving him a friendly embrace. "Is +it possible that I am not the same as I used to +be? . . . What can we do? Everyone must +go his own way. . . Are we ever going to +meet again? -- God only knows!" + +While saying this he had taken his seat in the +carriage, and the coachman was already gathering +up the reins. + +"Wait, wait!" cried Maksim Maksimych +suddenly, holding on to the carriage door. "I +was nearly forgetting altogether. Your papers +were left with me, Grigori Aleksandrovich. . . +I drag them about everywhere I go. . . I +thought I should find you in Georgia, but this +is where it has pleased Heaven that we should +meet. What's to be done with them?" . . . + +"Whatever you like!" answered Pechorin. +"Good-bye." . . . + +"So you are off to Persia? . . . But when will +you return?" Maksim Maksimych cried after +him. + +By this time the carriage was a long way off, +but Pechorin made a sign with his hand which +might be interpreted as meaning: + +"It is doubtful whether I shall return, and +there is no reason, either, why I should!" + +The jingle of the bell and the clatter of the +wheels along the flinty road had long ceased to +be audible, but the poor old man still remained +standing in the same place, deep in thought. + +"Yes," he said at length, endeavouring to +assume an air of indifference, although from +time to time a tear of vexation glistened on his +eyelashes. "Of course we were friends -- well, +but what are friends nowadays? . . . What +could I be to him? I'm not rich; I've no rank; +and, moreover, I'm not at all his match in years! -- +See what a dandy he has become since he has +been staying in Petersburg again! . . . What a +carriage! . . . What a quantity of luggage! . . . +And such a haughty manservant too!" . . . + +These words were pronounced with an ironical +smile. + +"Tell me," he continued, turning to me, +"what do you think of it? Come, what the +devil is he off to Persia for now? . . . Good +Lord, it is ridiculous -- ridiculous! . . . But I +always knew that he was a fickle man, and one +you could never rely on! . . . But, indeed, it +is a pity that he should come to a bad end . . . +yet it can't be otherwise! . . . I always did say +that there is no good to be got out of a man who +forgets his old friends!" . . . + +Hereupon he turned away in order to hide his +agitation and proceeded to walk about the court- +yard, around his cart, pretending to be examining +the wheels, whilst his eyes kept filling with tears +every moment. + +"Maksim Maksimych," I said, going up to +him, "what papers are these that Pechorin left +you?" + +"Goodness knows! Notes of some sort" . . . + +"What will you do with them?" + +"What? I'll have cartridges made of them." + +"Hand them over to me instead." + +He looked at me in surprise, growled some- +thing through his teeth, and began to rummage +in his portmanteau. Out he drew a writing-book +and threw it contemptuously on the ground; +then a second -- a third -- a tenth shared the same +fate. There was something childish in his +vexation, and it struck me as ridiculous and +pitiable. . . + +"Here they are," he said. "I congratulate +you on your find!" . . . + +"And I may do anything I like with them?" + +"Yes, print them in the newspapers, if you like. +What is it to me? Am I a friend or relation of +his? It is true that for a long time we lived +under one roof . . . but aren't there plenty of +people with whom I have lived?" . . . + +I seized the papers and lost no time in carry- +ing them away, fearing that the staff-captain +might repent his action. Soon somebody came +to tell us that the "Adventure" would set off in +an hour's time. I ordered the horses to be +put to. + +I had already put my cap on when the staff- +captain entered the room. Apparently he had +not got ready for departure. His manner was +somewhat cold and constrained. + +"You are not going, then, Maksim Maksim- +ych?" + +"No, sir!" + +"But why not?" + +"Well, I have not seen the Commandant yet, +and I have to deliver some Government things." + +"But you did go, you know." + +"I did, of course," he stammered, "but he +was not at home . . . and I did not wait." + +I understood. For the first time in his life, +probably, the poor old man had, to speak by the +book, thrown aside official business 'for the sake +of his personal requirements' . . . and how he +had been rewarded! + +"I am very sorry, Maksim Maksimych, very +sorry indeed," I said, "that we must part sooner +than necessary." + +"What should we rough old men be thinking +of to run after you? You young men are +fashionable and proud: under the Circassian +bullets you are friendly enough with us . . . but +when you meet us afterwards you are ashamed +even to give us your hand!" + +"I have not deserved these reproaches, Maksim +Maksimych." + +"Well, but you know I'm quite right. How- +ever, I wish you all good luck and a pleasant +journey." + +We took a rather cold farewell of each other. +The kind-hearted Maksim Maksimych had be- +come the obstinate, cantankerous staff-captain! +And why? Because Pechorin, through ab- +sent-mindedness or from some other cause, +had extended his hand to him when Maksim +Maksimych was going to throw himself on his +neck! Sad it is to see when a young man loses +his best hopes and dreams, when from before +his eyes is withdrawn the rose-hued veil through +which he has looked upon the deeds and feelings +of mankind; although there is the hope that +the old illusions will be replaced by new ones, +none the less evanescent, but, on the other hand, +none the less sweet. But wherewith can they be +replaced when one is at the age of Maksim +Maksimych? Do what you will, the heart +hardens and the soul shrinks in upon itself. + +I departed -- alone. + + + +FOREWORD TO BOOKS III, IV, AND V + +CONCERNING PECHORIN'S DIARY + +I LEARNED not long ago that Pechorin had +died on his way back from Persia. The news +afforded me great delight; it gave me the right +to print these notes; and I have taken advantage +of the opportunity of putting my name at the +head of another person's productions. Heaven +grant that my readers may not punish me for +such an innocent deception! + +I must now give some explanation of the +reasons which have induced me to betray to the +public the inmost secrets of a man whom I never +knew. If I had even been his friend, well and +good: the artful indiscretion of the true friend +is intelligible to everybody; but I only saw +Pechorin once in my life -- on the high-road -- +and, consequently, I cannot cherish towards him +that inexplicable hatred, which, hiding its face +under the mask of friendship, awaits but the +death or misfortune of the beloved object to +burst over its head in a storm of reproaches, +admonitions, scoffs and regrets. + +On reading over these notes, I have become +convinced of the sincerity of the man who has so +unsparingly exposed to view his own weaknesses +and vices. The history of a man's soul, even the +pettiest soul, is hardly less interesting and +useful than the history of a whole people; +especially when the former is the result of the +observations of a mature mind upon itself, and +has been written without any egoistical desire +of arousing sympathy or astonishment. Rous- +seau's Confessions has precisely this defect -- he +read it to his friends. + +And, so, it is nothing but the desire to be useful +that has constrained me to print fragments of +this diary which fell into my hands by chance. +Although I have altered all the proper names, +those who are mentioned in it will probably recog- +nise themselves, and, it may be, will find some +justification for actions for which they have +hitherto blamed a man who has ceased henceforth +to have anything in common with this world. +We almost always excuse that which we under- +stand. + +I have inserted in this book only those portions +of the diary which refer to Pechorin's sojourn in +the Caucasus. There still remains in my hands +a thick writing-book in which he tells the story +of his whole life. Some time or other that, too, +will present itself before the tribunal of the +world, but, for many and weighty reasons, I do +not venture to take such a responsibility upon +myself now. + +Possibly some readers would like to know my +own opinion of Pechorin's character. My answer +is: the title of this book. "But that is malicious +irony!" they will say. . . I know not. + + + +BOOK III THE FIRST EXTRACT FROM PECHORIN'S DIARY + +TAMAN + +TAMAN is the nastiest little hole of all the +seaports of Russia. I was all but starved +there, to say nothing of having a narrow escape +of being drowned. + +I arrived late at night by the post-car. The +driver stopped the tired troika[1] at the gate of the +only stone-built house that stood at the entrance +to the town. The sentry, a Cossack from the +Black Sea, hearing the jingle of the bell, cried out, +sleepily, in his barbarous voice, "Who goes there?" +An under-officer of Cossacks and a headborough[2] +came out. I explained that I was an officer +bound for the active-service detachment on +Government business, and I proceeded to demand +official quarters. The headborough conducted us +round the town. Whatever hut we drove up to +we found to be occupied. The weather was cold; +I had not slept for three nights; I was tired +out, and I began to lose my temper. + +[1] Team of three horses abreast. + +[2] Desyatnik, a superintendent of ten (men or +huts), i.e. an officer like the old English tithing-man or +headborough. + +"Take me somewhere or other, you +scoundrel!" I cried; "to the devil himself, so +long as there's a place to put up at!" + +"There is one other lodging," answered the +headborough, scratching his head. "Only you +won't like it, sir. It is uncanny!" + +Failing to grasp the exact signification of the +last phrase, I ordered him to go on, and, after a +lengthy peregrination through muddy byways, +at the sides of which I could see nothing but old +fences, we drove up to a small cabin, right on the +shore of the sea. + +The full moon was shining on the little reed- +thatched roof and the white walls of my new +dwelling. In the courtyard, which was sur- +rounded by a wall of rubble-stone, there stood +another miserable hovel, smaller and older than +the first and all askew. The shore descended +precipitously to the sea, almost from its very +walls, and down below, with incessant murmur, +plashed the dark-blue waves. The moon gazed +softly upon the watery element, restless but +obedient to it, and I was able by its light to +distinguish two ships lying at some distance +from the shore, their black rigging motionless +and standing out, like cobwebs, against the pale +line of the horizon. + +"There are vessels in the harbour," I said to +myself. "To-morrow I will set out for Gelen- +jik." + +I had with me, in the capacity of soldier- +servant, a Cossack of the frontier army. Order- +ing him to take down the portmanteau and dis- +miss the driver, I began to call the master of the +house. No answer! I knocked -- all was silent +within! . . . What could it mean? At length +a boy of about fourteen crept out from the hall. + +"Where is the master?" + +"There isn't one." + +"What! No master?" + +"None!" + +"And the mistress?" + +"She has gone off to the village." + +"Who will open the door for me, then?" I +said, giving it a kick. + +The door opened of its own accord, and a +breath of moisture-laden air was wafted from +the hut. I struck a lucifer match and held it +to the boy's face. It lit up two white eyes. +He was totally blind, obviously so from birth. +He stood stock-still before me, and I began to +examine his features. + +I confess that I have a violent prejudice against +all blind, one-eyed, deaf, dumb, legless, armless, +hunchbacked, and such-like people. I have +observed that there is always a certain strange +connection between a man's exterior and his +soul; as, if when the body loses a limb, the soul +also loses some power of feeling. + +And so I began to examine the blind boy's +face. But what could be read upon a face +from which the eyes are missing?. . . For a +long time I gazed at him with involuntary +compassion, when suddenly a scarcely perceptible +smile flitted over his thin lips, producing, I +know not why, a most unpleasant impression +upon me. I began to feel a suspicion that the +blind boy was not so blind as he appeared to be. +In vain I endeavoured to convince myself that +it was impossible to counterfeit cataracts; and +besides, what reason could there be for doing +such a thing? But I could not help my sus- +picions. I am easily swayed by prejudice. . . + +"You are the master's son?" I asked at +length. + +"No." + +"Who are you, then?" + +"An orphan -- a poor boy." + +"Has the mistress any children?" + +"No, her daughter ran away and crossed the +sea with a Tartar." + +"What sort of a Tartar?" + +"The devil only knows! A Crimean Tartar, a +boatman from Kerch." + +I entered the hut. Its whole furniture con- +sisted of two benches and a table, together with +an enormous chest beside the stove. There was +not a single ikon to be seen on the wall -- a bad +sign! The sea-wind burst in through the broken +window-pane. I drew a wax candle-end from my +portmanteau, lit it, and began to put my things +out. My sabre and gun I placed in a corner, my +pistols I laid on the table. I spread my felt cloak +out on one bench, and the Cossack his on the +other. In ten minutes the latter was snoring, +but I could not go to sleep -- the image of the +boy with the white eyes kept hovering before me +in the dark. + +About an hour passed thus. The moon shone +in at the window and its rays played along the +earthen floor of the hut. Suddenly a shadow +flitted across the bright strip of moonshine which +intersected the floor. I raised myself up a little +and glanced out of the window. Again somebody +ran by it and disappeared -- goodness knows +where! It seemed impossible for anyone to +descend the steep cliff overhanging the shore, +but that was the only thing that could have +happened. I rose, threw on my tunic, girded on a +dagger, and with the utmost quietness went out +of the hut. The blind boy was coming towards +me. I hid by the fence, and he passed by me +with a sure but cautious step. He was carrying a +parcel under his arm. He turned towards the +harbour and began to descend a steep and narrow +path. + +"On that day the dumb will cry out and the +blind will see," I said to myself, following him +just close enough to keep him in sight. + +Meanwhile the moon was becoming overcast +by clouds and a mist had risen upon the sea. The +lantern alight in the stern of a ship close at hand +was scarcely visible through the mist, and by +the shore there glimmered the foam of the waves, +which every moment threatened to submerge it. +Descending with difficulty, I stole along the +steep declivity, and all at once I saw the blind +boy come to a standstill and then turn down to +the right. He walked so close to the water's +edge that it seemed as if the waves would straight- +way seize him and carry him off. But, judging +by the confidence with which he stepped from +rock to rock and avoided the water-channels, +this was evidently not the first time that he had +made that journey. Finally he stopped, as +though listening for something, squatted down +upon the ground, and laid the parcel beside him. +Concealing myself behind a projecting rock on +the shore, I kept watch on his movements. +After a few minutes a white figure made its +appearance from the opposite direction. It came +up to the blind boy and sat down beside him. +At times the wind wafted their conversation to me. + +"Well?" said a woman's voice. "The storm +is violent; Yanko will not be here." + +"Yanko is not afraid of the storm!" the other +replied. + +"The mist is thickening," rejoined the woman's +voice, sadness in its tone. + +"In the mist it is all the easier to slip past the +guardships," was the answer. + +"And if he is drowned?" + +"Well, what then? On Sunday you won't +have a new ribbon to go to church in." + +An interval of silence followed. One thing, +however, struck me -- in talking to me the blind +boy spoke in the Little Russian dialect, but now +he was expressing himself in pure Russian. + +"You see, I am right!" the blind boy went on, +clapping his hands. "Yanko is not afraid of sea, +nor winds, nor mist, nor coastguards! Just +listen! That is not the water plashing, you +can't deceive me -- it is his long oars." + +The woman sprang up and began anxiously to +gaze into the distance. + +"You are raving!" she said. "I cannot see +anything." + +I confess that, much as I tried to make out in +the distance something resembling a boat, my +efforts were unsuccessful. About ten minutes +passed thus, when a black speck appeared between +the mountains of the waves! At one time it +grew larger, at another smaller. Slowly rising +upon the crests of the waves and swiftly de- +scending from them, the boat drew near to the +shore. + +"He must be a brave sailor," I thought, +"to have determined to cross the twenty versts +of strait on a night like this, and he must have +had a weighty reason for doing so." + +Reflecting thus, I gazed with an involuntary +beating of the heart at the poor boat. It dived +like a duck, and then, with rapidly swinging oars -- +like wings -- it sprang forth from the abyss amid +the splashes of the foam. "Ah!" I thought, +"it will be dashed against the shore with all its +force and broken to pieces!" But it turned +aside adroitly and leaped unharmed into a little +creek. Out of it stepped a man of medium height, +wearing a Tartar sheepskin cap. He waved his +hand, and all three set to work to drag something +out of the boat. The cargo was so large that, to +this day, I cannot understand how it was that the +boat did not sink. + +Each of them shouldered a bundle, and they +set off along the shore, and I soon lost sight +of them. I had to return home; but I confess +I was rendered uneasy by all these strange +happenings, and I found it hard to await the +morning. + +My Cossack was very much astonished when, +on waking up, he saw me fully dressed. I did +not, however, tell him the reason. For some time +I stood at the window, gazing admiringly at +the blue sky all studded with wisps of cloud, +and at the distant shore of the Crimea, stretching +out in a lilac-coloured streak and ending in a +cliff, on the summit of which the white tower +of the lighthouse was gleaming. Then I betook +myself to the fortress, Phanagoriya, in order to +ascertain from the Commandant at what hour +I should depart for Gelenjik. + +But the Commandant, alas! could not give +me any definite information. The vessels lying +in the harbour were all either guard-ships or +merchant-vessels which had not yet even begun +to take in lading. + +"Maybe in about three or four days' time a +mail-boat will come in," said the Commandant, +"and then we shall see." + +I returned home sulky and wrathful. My +Cossack met me at the door with a frightened +countenance. + +"Things are looking bad, sir!" he said. + +"Yes, my friend; goodness only knows when +we shall get away!" + +Hereupon he became still more uneasy, and, +bending towards me, he said in a whisper: + +"It is uncanny here! I met an under-officer +from the Black Sea to-day -- he's an acquaintance +of mine -- he was in my detachment last year. +When I told him where we were staying, he said, +'That place is uncanny, old fellow; they're +wicked people there!' . . . And, indeed, what +sort of a blind boy is that? He goes everywhere +alone, to fetch water and to buy bread at the +bazaar. It is evident they have become accus- +tomed to that sort of thing here." + +"Well, what then? Tell me, though, has +the mistress of the place put in an appear- +ance?" + +"During your absence to-day, an old woman +and her daughter arrived." + +"What daughter? She has no daughter!" + +"Goodness knows who it can be if it isn't her +daughter; but the old woman is sitting over +there in the hut now." + +I entered the hovel. A blazing fire was burning +in the stove, and they were cooking a dinner +which struck me as being a rather luxurious one +for poor people. To all my questions the old +woman replied that she was deaf and could not +hear me. There was nothing to be got out of +her. I turned to the blind boy who was sitting +in front of the stove, putting twigs into the +fire. + +"Now, then, you little blind devil," I said, +taking him by the ear. "Tell me, where were +you roaming with the bundle last night, eh?" + +The blind boy suddenly burst out weeping, +shrieking and wailing. + +"Where did I go? I did not go anywhere. . . +With the bundle?. . . What bundle?" + +This time the old woman heard, and she began +to mutter: + +"Hark at them plotting, and against a poor +boy too! What are you touching him for? +What has he done to you?" + +I had enough of it, and went out, firmly +resolved to find the key to the riddle. + +I wrapped myself up in my felt cloak and, +sitting down on a rock by the fence, gazed into +the distance. Before me stretched the sea, +agitated by the storm of the previous night, and +its monotonous roar, like the murmur of a town +over which slumber is beginning to creep, +recalled bygone years to my mind, and trans- +ported my thoughts northward to our cold +Capital. Agitated by my recollections, I became +oblivious of my surroundings. + +About an hour passed thus, perhaps even +longer. Suddenly something resembling a song +struck upon my ear. It was a song, and the +voice was a woman's, young and fresh -- but, +where was it coming from?. . . I listened; +it was a harmonious melody -- now long-drawn- +out and plaintive, now swift and lively. I looked +around me -- there was nobody to be seen. I +listened again -- the sounds seemed to be falling +from the sky. I raised my eyes. On the roof of +my cabin was standing a young girl in a striped +dress and with her hair hanging loose -- a regular +water-nymph. Shading her eyes from the sun's +rays with the palm of her hand, she was gazing +intently into the distance. At one time, she would +laugh and talk to herself, at another, she would +strike up her song anew. + +I have retained that song in my memory, +word for word: + + + At their own free will + + They seem to wander + + O'er the green sea yonder, + + Those ships, as still + + They are onward going, + + With white sails flowing. + + + And among those ships + + My eye can mark + + My own dear barque: + + By two oars guided + + (All unprovided + + With sails) it slips. + + + The storm-wind raves: + + And the old ships -- see! + + With wings spread free, + + Over the waves + + They scatter and flee! + + + The sea I will hail + + With obeisance deep: + + "Thou base one, hark! + + Thou must not fail + + My little barque + + From harm to keep!" + + + For lo! 'tis bearing + + Most precious gear, + + And brave and daring + + The arms that steer + + Within the dark + + My little barque. + + +Involuntarily the thought occurred to me +that I had heard the same voice the night before. +I reflected for a moment, and when I looked up +at the roof again there was no girl to be seen. +Suddenly she darted past me, with another song +on her lips, and, snapping her fingers, she ran +up to the old woman. Thereupon a quarrel +arose between them. The old woman grew +angry, and the girl laughed loudly. And then I +saw my Undine running and gambolling again. +She came up to where I was, stopped, and gazed +fixedly into my face as if surprised at my presence. +Then she turned carelessly away and went +quietly towards the harbour. But this was not +all. The whole day she kept hovering around +my lodging, singing and gambolling without a +moment's interruption. Strange creature! There +was not the slightest sign of insanity in her face; +on the contrary, her eyes, which were continually +resting upon me, were bright and piercing. +Moreover, they seemed to be endowed with a +certain magnetic power, and each time they looked +at me they appeared to be expecting a question. +But I had only to open my lips to speak, and away +she would run, with a sly smile. + +Certainly never before had I seen a woman +like her. She was by no means beautiful; but, +as in other matters, I have my own prepossessions +on the subject of beauty. There was a good +deal of breeding in her. . . Breeding in women, +as in horses, is a great thing: a discovery, the +credit of which belongs to young France. It -- +that is to say, breeding, not young France -- +is chiefly to be detected in the gait, in the hands +and feet; the nose, in particular, is of the greatest +significance. In Russia a straight nose is rarer +than a small foot. + +My songstress appeared to be not more than +eighteen years of age. The unusual suppleness of +her figure, the characteristic and original way she +had of inclining her head, her long, light-brown +hair, the golden sheen of her slightly sunburnt +neck and shoulders, and especially her straight +nose -- all these held me fascinated. Although +in her sidelong glances I could read a certain +wildness and disdain, although in her smile there +was a certain vagueness, yet -- such is the force +of predilections -- that straight nose of hers +drove me crazy. I fancied that I had found +Goethe's Mignon -- that queer creature of his +German imagination. And, indeed, there was a +good deal of similarity between them; the same +rapid transitions from the utmost restlessness to +complete immobility, the same enigmatical +speeches, the same gambols, the same strange +songs. + +Towards evening I stopped her at the door +and entered into the following conversation +with her. + +"Tell me, my beauty," I asked, "what were +you doing on the roof to-day?" + +"I was looking to see from what direction the +wind was blowing." + +"What did you want to know for?" + +"Whence the wind blows comes happiness." + +"Well? Were you invoking happiness with +your song?" + +"Where there is singing there is also happi- +ness." + +"But what if your song were to bring you +sorrow?" + +"Well, what then? Where things won't be +better, they will be worse; and from bad to good +again is not far." + +"And who taught you that song?" + +"Nobody taught me; it comes into my head +and I sing; whoever is to hear it, he will hear it, +and whoever ought not to hear it, he will not +understand it." + +"What is your name, my songstress?" + +"He who baptized me knows." + +"And who baptized you?" + +"How should I know?" + +"What a secretive girl you are! But look here, +I have learned something about you" -- she +neither changed countenance nor moved her lips, +as though my discovery was of no concern to her -- +"I have learned that you went to the shore +last night." + +And, thereupon, I very gravely retailed to her all +that I had seen, thinking that I should embarrass +her. Not a bit of it! She burst out laughing +heartily. + +"You have seen much, but know little; and +what you do know, see that you keep it under lock +and key." + +"But supposing, now, I was to take it into my +head to inform the Commandant?" and here I +assumed a very serious, not to say stern, de- +meanour. + +She gave a sudden spring, began to sing, and +hid herself like a bird frightened out of a thicket. +My last words were altogether out of place. +I had no suspicion then how momentous they +were, but afterwards I had occasion to rue +them. + +As soon as the dusk of evening fell, I ordered +the Cossack to heat the teapot, campaign fashion. +I lighted a candle and sat down by the table, +smoking my travelling-pipe. I was just about to +finish my second tumbler of tea when suddenly +the door creaked and I heard behind me the +sound of footsteps and the light rustle of a dress. +I started and turned round. + +It was she -- my Undine. Softly and without +saying a word she sat down opposite to me and +fixed her eyes upon me. Her glance seemed +wondrously tender, I know not why; it re- +minded me of one of those glances which, in +years gone by, so despotically played with my +life. She seemed to be waiting for a question, +but I kept silence, filled with an inexplicable +sense of embarrassment. Mental agitation was +evinced by the dull pallor which overspread +her countenance; her hand, which I noticed +was trembling slightly, moved aimlessly about +the table. At one time her breast heaved, and +at another she seemed to be holding her breath. +This little comedy was beginning to pall upon +me, and I was about to break the silence in a +most prosaic manner, that is, by offering her a +glass of tea; when suddenly, springing up, she +threw her arms around my neck, and I felt her +moist, fiery lips pressed upon mine. Darkness +came before my eyes, my head began to swim. +I embraced her with the whole strength of +youthful passion. But, like a snake, she glided +from between my arms, whispering in my ear +as she did so: + +"To-night, when everyone is asleep, go out +to the shore." + +Like an arrow she sprang from the room. + +In the hall she upset the teapot and a candle +which was standing on the floor. + +"Little devil!" cried the Cossack, who +had taken up his position on the straw and had +contemplated warming himself with the remains +of the tea. + +It was only then that I recovered my senses. + +In about two hours' time, when all had grown +silent in the harbour, I awakened my Cossack. + +"If I fire a pistol," I said, "run to the +shore." + +He stared open-eyed and answered mechanic- +ally: + +"Very well, sir." + +I stuffed a pistol in my belt and went out. She +was waiting for me at the edge of the cliff. Her +attire was more than light, and a small kerchief +girded her supple waist. + +"Follow me!" she said, taking me by the +hand, and we began to descend. + +I cannot understand how it was that I did not +break my neck. Down below we turned to the +right and proceeded to take the path along which +I had followed the blind boy the evening before. +The moon had not yet risen, and only two little +stars, like two guardian lighthouses, were twink- +ling in the dark-blue vault of heaven. The heavy +waves, with measured and even motion, rolled +one after the other, scarcely lifting the solitary +boat which was moored to the shore. + +"Let us get into the boat," said my com- +panion. + +I hesitated. I am no lover of sentimental +trips on the sea; but this was not the time to +draw back. She leaped into the boat, and I +after her; and I had not time to recover my +wits before I observed that we were adrift. + +"What is the meaning of this?" I said angrily. + +"It means," she answered, seating me on the +bench and throwing her arms around my waist, +"it means that I love you!" . . . + +Her cheek was pressed close to mine. and I felt +her burning breath upon my face. Suddenly +something fell noisily into the water. I clutched +at my belt -- my pistol was gone! Ah, now a +terrible suspicion crept into my soul, and the +blood rushed to my head! I looked round. We +were about fifty fathoms from the shore, and +I could not swim a stroke! I tried to thrust +her away from me, but she clung like a cat to +my clothes, and suddenly a violent wrench all but +threw me into the sea. The boat rocked, but I +righted myself, and a desperate struggle began. + +Fury lent me strength, but I soon found that +I was no match for my opponent in point of +agility. . . + +"What do you want?" I cried, firmly +squeezing her little hands. + +Her fingers crunched, but her serpent-like +nature bore up against the torture, and she did +not utter a cry. + +"You saw us," she answered. "You will tell +on us." + +And, with a supernatural effort, she flung me +on to the side of the boat; we both hung half +overboard; her hair touched the water. The +decisive moment had come. I planted my knee +against the bottom of the boat, caught her by +the tresses with one hand and by the throat +with the other; she let go my clothes, and, in +an instant, I had thrown her into the waves. + +It was now rather dark; once or twice her head +appeared for an instant amidst the sea foam, +and I saw no more of her. + +I found the half of an old oar at the bottom of +the boat, and somehow or other, after lengthy +efforts, I made fast to the harbour. Making my +way along the shore towards my hut, I involun- +tarily gazed in the direction of the spot where, +on the previous night, the blind boy had awaited +the nocturnal mariner. The moon was already +rolling through the sky, and it seemed to me +that somebody in white was sitting on the shore. +Spurred by curiosity, I crept up and crouched +down in the grass on the top of the cliff. By +thrusting my head out a little way I was able +to get a good view of everything that was happen- +ing down below, and I was not very much aston- +ished, but almost rejoiced, when I recognised +my water-nymph. She was wringing the sea- +foam from her long hair. Her wet garment out- +lined her supple figure and her high bosom. + +Soon a boat appeared in the distance; it drew +near rapidly; and, as on the night before, a +man in a Tartar cap stepped out of it, but he +now had his hair cropped round in the Cossack +fashion, and a large knife was sticking out behind +his leather belt. + +"Yanko," the girl said, "all is lost!" + +Then their conversation continued, but so +softly that I could not catch a word of it. + +"But where is the blind boy?" said Yanko at +last, raising his voice. + +"I have told him to come," was the reply. + +After a few minutes the blind boy appeared, +dragging on his back a sack, which they placed +in the boat. + +"Listen!" said Yanko to the blind boy. +"Guard that place! You know where I mean? +There are valuable goods there. Tell" -- I +could not catch the name -- "that I am no longer +his servant. Things have gone badly. He will +see me no more. It is dangerous now. I will +go seek work in another place, and he will never be +able to find another dare-devil like me. Tell +him also that if he had paid me a little better +for my labours, I would not have forsaken him. +For me there is a way anywhere, if only the +wind blows and the sea roars." + +After a short silence Yanko continued. + +"She is coming with me. It is impossible for +her to remain here. Tell the old woman that +it is time for her to die; she has been here a +long time, and the line must be drawn somewhere. +As for us, she will never see us any more." + +"And I?" said the blind boy in a plaintive +voice. + +"What use have I for you?" was the answer. + +In the meantime my Undine had sprung +into the boat. She beckoned to her companion +with her hand. He placed something in the +blind boy's hand and added: + +"There, buy yourself some gingerbreads." + +"Is this all?" said the blind boy. + +"Well, here is some more." + +The money fell and jingled as it struck the +rock. + +The blind boy did not pick it up. Yanko took +his seat in the boat; the wind was blowing from +the shore; they hoisted the little sail and sped +rapidly away. For a long time the white sail +gleamed in the moonlight amid the dark waves. +Still the blind boy remained seated upon the +shore, and then I heard something which sounded +like sobbing. The blind boy was, in fact, weeping, +and for a long, long time his tears flowed. . . +I grew heavy-hearted. For what reason should +fate have thrown me into the peaceful circle of +honourable smugglers? Like a stone cast into a +smooth well, I had disturbed their quietude, +and I barely escaped going to the bottom like a +stone. + +I returned home. In the hall the burnt-out +candle was spluttering on a wooden platter, and +my Cossack, contrary to orders, was fast asleep, +with his gun held in both hands. I left him at +rest, took the candle, and entered the hut. +Alas! my cashbox, my sabre with the silver +chasing, my Daghestan dagger -- the gift of a +friend -- all had vanished! It was then that I +guessed what articles the cursed blind boy had +been dragging along. Roughly shaking the +Cossack, I woke him up, rated him, and lost my +temper. But what was the good of that? +And would it not have been ridiculous to com- +plain to the authorities that I had been robbed +by a blind boy and all but drowned by an +eighteen-year-old girl? + +Thank heaven an opportunity of getting away +presented itself in the morning, and I left +Taman. + +What became of the old woman and the poor +blind boy I know not. And, besides, what are the +joys and sorrows of mankind to me -- me, a +travelling officer, and one, moreover, with an +order for post-horses on Government business? + + + +BOOK IV THE SECOND EXTRACT FROM PECHORIN'S DIARY + +THE FATALIST + +I ONCE happened to spend a couple of weeks +in a Cossack village on our left flank. A +battalion of infantry was stationed there; and +it was the custom of the officers to meet at each +other's quarters in turn and play cards in the +evening. + +On one occasion -- it was at Major S----'s -- +finding our game of Boston not sufficiently ab- +sorbing, we threw the cards under the table +and sat on for a long time, talking. The con- +versation, for once in a way, was interesting. +The subject was the Mussulman tradition that +a man's fate is written in heaven, and we dis- +cussed the fact that it was gaining many votaries, +even amongst our own countrymen. Each of us +related various extraordinary occurrences, pro or +contra. + +"What you have been saying, gentlemen, +proves nothing," said the old major. "I presume +there is not one of you who has actually been a +witness of the strange events which you are citing +in support of your opinions?" + +"Not one, of course," said many of the guests. +"But we have heard of them from trustworthy +people." . . . + +"It is all nonsense!" someone said. "Where +are the trustworthy people who have seen the +Register in which the appointed hour of our +death is recorded? . . . And if predestination +really exists, why are free will and reason granted +us? Why are we obliged to render an account +of our actions?" + +At that moment an officer who was sitting in a +corner of the room stood up, and, coming slowly +to the table, surveyed us all with a quiet and +solemn glance. He was a native of Servia, as was +evident from his name. + +The outward appearance of Lieutenant Vulich +was quite in keeping with his character. His +height, swarthy complexion, black hair, piercing +black eyes, large but straight nose -- an attribute of +his nation -- and the cold and melancholy smile +which ever hovered around his lips, all seemed to +concur in lending him the appearance of a man +apart, incapable of reciprocating the thoughts +and passions of those whom fate gave him for +companions. + +He was brave; talked little, but sharply; +confided his thoughts and family secrets to no +one; drank hardly a drop of wine; and never +dangled after the young Cossack girls, whose +charm it is difficult to realise without having +seen them. It was said, however, that the +colonel's wife was not indifferent to those ex- +pressive eyes of his; but he was seriously angry +if any hint on the subject was made. + +There was only one passion which he did not +conceal -- the passion for gambling. At the green +table he would become oblivious of everything. +He usually lost, but his constant ill success only +aroused his obstinacy. It was related that, on one +occasion, during a nocturnal expedition, he was +keeping the bank on a pillow, and had a terrific run +of luck. Suddenly shots rang out. The alarm was +sounded; all but Vulich jumped up and rushed +to arms. + +"Stake, va banque!" he cried to one of the +most ardent gamblers. + +"Seven," the latter answered as he hurried +off. + +Notwithstanding the general confusion, Vulich +calmly finished the deal -- seven was the card. +By the time he reached the cordon a violent +fusillade was in progress. Vulich did not trouble +himself about the bullets or the sabres of the +Chechenes, but sought for the lucky gambler. + +"Seven it was!" he cried out, as at length he +perceived him in the cordon of skirmishers who +were beginning to dislodge the enemy from the +wood; and going up to him, he drew out his +purse and pocket-book and handed them to the +winner, notwithstanding the latter's objections +on the score of the inconvenience of the payment. +That unpleasant duty discharged, Vulich dashed +forward, carried the soldiers along after him, +and, to the very end of the affair, fought the +Chechenes with the utmost coolness. + +When Lieutenant Vulich came up to the table, +we all became silent, expecting to hear, as usual, +something original. + +"Gentlemen!" he said -- and his voice was +quiet though lower in tone than usual -- "gentle- +men, what is the good of futile discussions? +You wish for proofs? I propose that we try the +experiment on ourselves: whether a man can of +his own accord dispose of his life, or whether the +fateful moment is appointed beforehand for each +of us. Who is agreeable?" + +"Not I. Not I," came from all sides. + +"There's a queer fellow for you! He does get +strange ideas into his head!" + +"I propose a wager," I said in jest. + +"What sort of wager?" + +"I maintain that there is no such thing as +predestination," I said, scattering on the table a +score or so of ducats -- all I had in my pocket. + +"Done," answered Vulich in a hollow voice. +"Major, you will be judge. Here are fifteen +ducats, the remaining five you owe me, kindly +add them to the others." + +"Very well," said the major; "though, +indeed, I do not understand what is the question +at issue and how you will decide it!" + +Without a word Vulich went into the major's +bedroom, and we followed him. He went up to +the wall on which the major's weapons were hang- +ing, and took down at random one of the pistols +-- of which there were several of different cali- +bres. We were still in the dark as to what he +meant to do. But, when he cocked the pistol +and sprinkled powder in the pan, several of the +officers, crying out in spite of themselves, seized +him by the arms. + +"What are you going to do?" they exclaimed. +"This is madness!" + +"Gentlemen!" he said slowly, disengaging +his arm. "Who would like to pay twenty ducats +for me?" + +They were silent and drew away. + +Vulich went into the other room and sat by +the table; we all followed him. With a sign +he invited us to sit round him. We obeyed in +silence -- at that moment he had acquired a +certain mysterious authority over us. I stared +fixedly into his face; but he met my scrutinising +gaze with a quiet and steady glance, and his +pallid lips smiled. But, notwithstanding his +composure, it seemed to me that I could read the +stamp of death upon his pale countenance. I +have noticed -- and many old soldiers have cor- +roborated my observation -- that a man who is +to die in a few hours frequently bears on his +face a certain strange stamp of inevitable fate, +so that it is difficult for practised eyes to be +mistaken. + +"You will die to-day!" I said to Vulich. + +He turned towards me rapidly, but answered +slowly and quietly: + +"May be so, may be not." . . . + +Then, addressing himself to the major, he asked: + +"Is the pistol loaded?" + +The major, in the confusion, could not quite +remember. + +"There, that will do, Vulich!" exclaimed +somebody. "Of course it must be loaded, if it +was one of those hanging on the wall there over +our heads. What a man you are for joking!" + +"A silly joke, too!" struck in another. + +"I wager fifty rubles to five that the pistol is +not loaded!" cried a third. + +A new bet was made. + +I was beginning to get tired of it all. + +"Listen," I said, "either shoot yourself, or +hang up the pistol in its place and let us go to bed." + +"Yes, of course!" many exclaimed. "Let +us go to bed." + +"Gentlemen, I beg of you not to move," said +Vulich, putting the muzzle of the pistol to his +forehead. + +We were all petrified. + +"Mr. Pechorin," he added, "take a card and +throw it up in the air." + +I took, as I remember now, an ace of hearts off +the table and threw it into the air. All held their +breath. With eyes full of terror and a certain +vague curiosity they glanced rapidly from the +pistol to the fateful ace, which slowly descended, +quivering in the air. At the moment it touched +the table Vulich pulled the trigger . . . a flash +in the pan! + +"Thank God!" many exclaimed. "It wasn't +loaded!" + +"Let us see, though," said Vulich. + +He cocked the pistol again, and took aim at a +forage-cap which was hanging above the window. +A shot rang out. Smoke filled the room; when +it cleared away, the forage-cap was taken down. +It had been shot right through the centre, +and the bullet was deeply embedded in the +wall. + +For two or three minutes no one was able to +utter a word. Very quietly Vulich poured my +ducats from the major's purse into his own. + +Discussions arose as to why the pistol had not +gone off the first time. Some maintained that +probably the pan had been obstructed; others +whispered that the powder had been damp the +first time, and that, afterwards, Vulich had +sprinkled some fresh powder on it; but I +maintained that the last supposition was wrong, +because I had not once taken my eyes off the +pistol. + +"You are lucky at play!" I said to Vulich. . . + +"For the first time in my life!" he answered, +with a complacent smile. "It is better than +'bank' and 'shtoss.'"[1] + +[1] Card-games. + +"But, on the other hand, slightly more +dangerous!" + +"Well? Have you begun to believe in pre- +destination? + +"I do believe in it; only I cannot understand +now why it appeared to me that you must +inevitably die to-day!" + +And this same man, who, such a short time +before, had with the greatest calmness aimed +a pistol at his own forehead, now suddenly fired +up and became embarrassed. + +"That will do, though!" he said, rising to his +feet. "Our wager is finished, and now your +observations, it seems to me, are out of place." + +He took up his cap and departed. The whole +affair struck me as being strange -- and not +without reason. Shortly after that, all the officers +broke up and went home, discussing Vulich's +freaks from different points of view, and, doubt- +less, with one voice calling me an egoist for having +taken up a wager against a man who wanted to +shoot himself, as if he could not have found a +convenient opportunity without my intervention. + +I returned home by the deserted byways of the +village. The moon, full and red like the glow of +a conflagration, was beginning to make its appear- +ance from behind the jagged horizon of the +house-tops; the stars were shining tranquilly in +the deep, blue vault of the sky; and I was struck by +the absurdity of the idea when I recalled to mind +that once upon a time there were some exceed- +ingly wise people who thought that the stars of +heaven participated in our insignificant squabbles +for a slice of ground, or some other imaginary +rights. And what then? These lamps, lighted, +so they fancied, only to illuminate their battles +and triumphs, are burning with all their former +brilliance, whilst the wiseacres themselves, to- +gether with their hopes and passions, have long +been extinguished, like a little fire kindled at the +edge of a forest by a careless wayfarer! But, on the +other hand, what strength of will was lent them +by the conviction that the entire heavens, with +their innumerable habitants, were looking at them +with a sympathy, unalterable, though mute! . . . +And we, their miserable descendants, roaming +over the earth, without faith, without pride, +without enjoyment, and without terror -- except +that involuntary awe which makes the heart shrink +at the thought of the inevitable end -- we are no +longer capable of great sacrifices, either for the +good of mankind or even for our own happiness, +because we know the impossibility of such +happiness; and, just as our ancestors used to +fling themselves from one delusion to another, +we pass indifferently from doubt to doubt, +without possessing, as they did, either hope or +even that vague though, at the same time, keen +enjoyment which the soul encounters at every +struggle with mankind or with destiny. + +These and many other similar thoughts passed +through my mind, but I did not follow them up, +because I do not like to dwell upon abstract +ideas -- for what do they lead to? In my early +youth I was a dreamer; I loved to hug to my +bosom the images -- now gloomy, now rainbow- +hued -- which my restless and eager imagination +drew for me. And what is there left to me of all +these? Only such weariness as might be felt after +a battle by night with a phantom -- only a con- +fused memory full of regrets. In that vain +contest I have exhausted the warmth of soul and +firmness of will indispensable to an active life. I +have entered upon that life after having already +lived through it in thought, and it has become +wearisome and nauseous to me, as the reading of +a bad imitation of a book is to one who has long +been familiar with the original. + +The events of that evening produced a some- +what deep impression upon me and excited my +nerves. I do not know for certain whether I now +believe in predestination or not, but on that +evening I believed in it firmly. The proof was +startling, and I, notwithstanding that I had +laughed at our forefathers and their obliging +astrology, fell involuntarily into their way of +thinking. However, I stopped myself in time +from following that dangerous road, and, as I have +made it a rule not to reject anything decisively +and not to trust anything blindly, I cast meta- +physics aside and began to look at what was +beneath my feet. The precaution was well-timed. +I only just escaped stumbling over something +thick and soft, but, to all appearance, inanimate. +I bent down to see what it was, and, by the light +of the moon, which now shone right upon the +road, I perceived that it was a pig which had +been cut in two with a sabre. . . I had hardly +time to examine it before I heard the sound of +steps, and two Cossacks came running out of a +byway. One of them came up to me and +enquired whether I had seen a drunken Cossack +chasing a pig. I informed him that I had not met +the Cossack and pointed to the unhappy +victim of his rabid bravery. + +"The scoundrel!" said the second Cossack. +"No sooner does he drink his fill of chikhir[1] +than off he goes and cuts up anything that comes in +his way. Let us be after him, Eremeich, we +must tie him up or else" . . . + +[1] A Caucasian wine. + +They took themselves off, and I continued my +way with greater caution, and at length arrived at +my lodgings without mishap. + +I was living with a certain old Cossack under- +officer whom I loved, not only on account of his +kindly disposition, but also, and more especially, +on account of his pretty daughter, Nastya. + +Wrapped up in a sheepskin coat she was +waiting for me, as usual, by the wicket gate. +The moon illumined her charming little lips, now +turned blue by the cold of the night. Recognizing +me she smiled; but I was in no mood to linger +with her. + +"Good night, Nastya!" I said, and passed on. + +She was about to make some answer, but only +sighed. + +I fastened the door of my room after me, +lighted a candle, and threw myself on the bed; +but, on that occasion, slumber caused its presence +to be awaited longer than usual. By the time I +fell asleep the east was beginning to grow pale, +but I was evidently predestined not to have my +sleep out. At four o'clock in the morning two +fists knocked at my window. I sprang up. + +"What is the matter?" + +"Get up -- dress yourself!" + +I dressed hurriedly and went out. + +"Do you know what has happened?" said three +officers who had come for me, speaking all in one +voice. + +They were deadly pale. + +"No, what is it?" + +"Vulich has been murdered!" + +I was petrified. + +"Yes, murdered!" they continued. "Let us +lose no time and go!" + +"But where to?" + +"You will learn as we go." + +We set off. They told me all that had hap- +pened, supplementing their story with a variety +of observations on the subject of the strange +predestination which had saved Vulich from +imminent death half an hour before he actually +met his end. + +Vulich had been walking alone along a dark +street, and the drunken Cossack who had cut up +the pig had sprung out upon him, and perhaps +would have passed him by without noticing +him, had not Vulich stopped suddenly and +said: + +"Whom are you looking for, my man?" + + +"You!" answered the Cossack, striking him +with his sabre; and he cleft him from the +shoulder almost to the heart. . . + +The two Cossacks who had met me and +followed the murderer had arrived on the scene +and raised the wounded man from the ground. +But he was already as his last gasp and said these +three words only -- "he was right!" + +I alone understood the dark significance of +those words: they referred to me. I had +involuntarily foretold his fate to poor Vulich. +My instinct had not deceived me; I had indeed +read on his changed countenance the signs of +approaching death. + +The murderer had locked himself up in an +empty hut at the end of the village; and thither +we went. A number of women, all of them +weeping, were running in the same direction; at +times a belated Cossack, hastily buckling on his +dagger, sprang out into the street and overtook +us at a run. The tumult was dreadful. + +At length we arrived on the scene and found a +crowd standing around the hut, the door and +shutters of which were locked on the inside. +Groups of officers and Cossacks were engaged in +heated discussions; the women were shrieking, +wailing and talking all in one breath. One of the +old women struck my attention by her meaning +looks and the frantic despair expressed upon her +face. She was sitting on a thick plank, leaning +her elbows on her knees and supporting her head +with her hands. It was the mother of the +murderer. At times her lips moved. . . Was +it a prayer they were whispering, or a curse? + +Meanwhile it was necessary to decide upon +some course of action and to seize the criminal. +Nobody, however, made bold to be the first to +rush forward. + +I went up to the window and looked in through +a chink in the shutter. The criminal, pale of +face, was lying on the floor, holding a pistol in his +right hand. The blood-stained sabre was beside +him. His expressive eyes were rolling in terror; +at times he shuddered and clutched at his head, +as if indistinctly recalling the events of yesterday. +I could not read any sign of great determination +in that uneasy glance of his, and I told the major +that it would be better at once to give orders to +the Cossacks to burst open the door and rush in, +than to wait until the murderer had quite +recovered his senses. + +At that moment the old captain of the Cossacks +went up to the door and called the murderer by +name. The latter answered back. + +"You have committed a sin, brother Ephi- +mych!" said the captain, "so all you can do now +is to submit." + +"I will not submit!" answered the Cossack. + +"Have you no fear of God! You see, you +are not one of those cursed Chechenes, but an +honest Christian! Come, if you have done it in +an unguarded moment there is no help for it! +You cannot escape your fate!" + +"I will not submit!" exclaimed the Cossack +menacingly, and we could hear the snap of the +cocked trigger. + +"Hey, my good woman!" said the Cossack +captain to the old woman. "Say a word to your +son -- perhaps he will lend an ear to you. . . +You see, to go on like this is only to make God +angry. And look, the gentlemen here have +already been waiting two hours." + +The old woman gazed fixedly at him and shook +her head. + +"Vasili Petrovich," said the captain, going up +to the major; "he will not surrender. I know +him! If it comes to smashing in the door he will +strike down several of our men. Would it not be +better if you ordered him to be shot? There is +a wide chink in the shutter." + +At that moment a strange idea flashed through +my head -- like Vulich I proposed to put fate to +the test. + +"Wait," I said to the major, "I will take +him alive." + +Bidding the captain enter into a conversation +with the murderer and setting three Cossacks at +the door ready to force it open and rush to my +aid at a given signal, I walked round the hut and +approached the fatal window. My heart was +beating violently. + +"Aha, you cursed wretch!" cried the captain. +"Are you laughing at us, eh? Or do you think +that we won't be able to get the better of you?" + +He began to knock at the door with all his +might. Putting my eye to the chink, I followed +the movements of the Cossack, who was not +expecting an attack from that direction. I +pulled the shutter away suddenly and threw +myself in at the window, head foremost. A shot +rang out right over my ear, and the bullet tore off +one of my epaulettes. But the smoke which filled +the room prevented my adversary from finding +the sabre which was lying beside him. I seized +him by the arms; the Cossacks burst in; and +three minutes had not elapsed before they had +the criminal bound and led off under escort. + +The people dispersed, the officers congratulated +me -- and indeed there was cause for congratula- +tion. + +After all that, it would hardly seem possible +to avoid becoming a fatalist? But who knows +for certain whether he is convinced of anything +or not? And how often is a deception of the +senses or an error of the reason accepted as a +conviction! . . . I prefer to doubt everything. +Such a disposition is no bar to decision of +character; on the contrary, so far as I am +concerned, I always advance more boldly when I +do not know what is awaiting me. You see, +nothing can happen worse than death -- and from +death there is no escape. + +On my return to the fortress I related to +Maksim Maksimych all that I had seen and +experienced; and I sought to learn his opinion +on the subject of predestination. + +At first he did not understand the word. I +explained it to him as well as I could, and then he +said, with a significant shake of the head: + +"Yes, sir, of course! It was a very ingenious +trick! However, these Asiatic pistols often +miss fire if they are badly oiled or if you don't +press hard enough on the trigger. I confess I +don't like the Circassian carbines either. Some- +how or other they don't suit the like of us: the +butt end is so small, and any minute you may +get your nose burnt! On the other hand, their +sabres, now -- well, all I need say is, my best +respects to them!" + +Afterwards he said, on reflecting a little: + +"Yes, it is a pity about the poor fellow! The +devil must have put it into his head to start a +conversation with a drunken man at night! +However, it is evident that fate had written it +so at his birth!" + +I could not get anything more out of Maksim +Maksimych; generally speaking, he had no +liking for metaphysical disputations. + + + +BOOK V THE THIRD EXTRACT FROM PECHORIN'S DIARY + +PRINCESS MARY + +CHAPTER I + +11th May. + +YESTERDAY I arrived at Pyatigorsk. +I have engaged lodgings at the extreme +end of the town, the highest part, at the foot of +Mount Mashuk: during a storm the clouds will +descend on to the roof of my dwelling. + +This morning at five o'clock, when I opened +my window, the room was filled with the fra- +grance of the flowers growing in the modest little +front-garden. Branches of bloom-laden bird- +cherry trees peep in at my window, and now and +again the breeze bestrews my writing-table with +their white petals. The view which meets my +gaze on three sides is wonderful: westward +towers five-peaked Beshtau, blue as "the last +cloud of a dispersed storm,"[1] and northward rises +Mashuk, like a shaggy Persian cap, shutting in +the whole of that quarter of the horizon. Eastward +the outlook is more cheery: down below are dis- +played the varied hues of the brand-new, spotlessly +clean, little town, with its murmuring, health- +giving springs and its babbling, many-tongued +throng. Yonder, further away, the mountains +tower up in an amphitheatre, ever bluer and +mistier; and, at the edge of the horizon, stretches +the silver chain of snow-clad summits, begin- +ning with Kazbek and ending with two-peaked +Elbruz. . . Blithe is life in such a land! A feeling +akin to rapture is diffused through all my veins. +The air is pure and fresh, like the kiss of a child; +the sun is bright, the sky is blue -- what more could +one possibly wish for? What need, in such a place +as this, of passions, desires, regrets? + +[1] Pushkin. Compare Shelley's Adonais, xxxi. 3: "as the +last cloud of an expiring storm." + +However, it is time to be stirring. I will go to +the Elizaveta spring -- I am told that the whole +society of the watering-place assembles there in +the morning. + + . . . . . + +Descending into the middle of the town, I +walked along the boulevard, on which I met a few +melancholy groups slowly ascending the moun- +tain. These, for the most part, were the families +of landed-gentry from the steppes -- as could be +guessed at once from the threadbare, old- +fashioned frock-coats of the husbands and the +exquisite attire of the wives and daughters. +Evidently they already had all the young men of +the watering-place at their fingers' ends, because +they looked at me with a tender curiosity. The +Petersburg cut of my coat misled them; but they +soon recognised the military epaulettes, and +turned away with indignation. + +The wives of the local authorities -- the host- +esses, so to speak, of the waters -- were more +graciously inclined. They carry lorgnettes, and +they pay less attention to a uniform -- they have +grown accustomed in the Caucasus to meeting a +fervid heart beneath a numbered button and a +cultured intellect beneath a white forage-cap. +These ladies are very charming, and long continue +to be charming. Each year their adorers are +exchanged for new ones, and in that very fact, it +may be, lies the secret of their unwearying +amiability. + +Ascending by the narrow path to the Elizaveta +spring, I overtook a crowd of officials and military +men, who, as I subsequently learned, compose a +class apart amongst those who place their hopes +in the medicinal waters. They drink -- but not +water -- take but few walks, indulge in only mild +flirtations, gamble, and complain of boredom. + +They are dandies. In letting their wicker- +sheathed tumblers down into the well of sulphur- +ous water they assume academical poses. The +officials wear bright blue cravats; the military men +have ruffs sticking out above their collars. They +affect a profound contempt for provincial ladies, +and sigh for the aristocratic drawing-rooms of the +capitals -- to which they are not admitted. + +Here is the well at last! . . . Upon the small +square adjoining it a little house with a red roof +over the bath is erected, and somewhat further +on there is a gallery in which the people +walk when it rains. Some wounded officers +were sitting -- pale and melancholy -- on a bench, +with their crutches drawn up. A few ladies, +their tumbler of water finished, were walking +with rapid steps to and fro about the square. +There were two or three pretty faces amongst +them. Beneath the avenues of the vines with +which the slope of Mashuk is covered, occasional +glimpses could be caught of the gay-coloured hat +of a lover of solitude for two -- for beside that hat +I always noticed either a military forage-cap or +the ugly round hat of a civilian. Upon the steep +cliff, where the pavilion called "The Aeolian +Harp" is erected, figured the lovers of scenery, +directing their telescopes upon Elbruz. Amongst +them were a couple of tutors, with their pupils +who had come to be cured of scrofula. + +Out of breath, I came to a standstill at the +edge of the mountain, and, leaning against the +corner of a little house, I began to examine the +picturesque surroundings, when suddenly I heard +behind me a familiar voice. + +"Pechorin! Have you been here long?" + +I turned round. Grushnitski! We embraced. +I had made his acquaintance in the active service +detachment. He had been wounded in the foot by +a bullet and had come to the waters a week or so +before me. + +Grushnitski is a cadet; he has only been a year +in the service. From a kind of foppery peculiar +to himself, he wears the thick cloak of a common +soldier. He has also the soldier's cross of St. +George. He is well built, swarthy and black- +haired. To look at him, you might say he was +a man of twenty-five, although he is scarcely +twenty-one. He tosses his head when he speaks, +and keeps continually twirling his moustache +with his left hand, his right hand being occupied +with the crutch on which he leans. He speaks +rapidly and affectedly; he is one of those people +who have a high-sounding phrase ready for every +occasion in life, who remain untouched by simple +beauty, and who drape themselves majestically +in extraordinary sentiments, exalted passions +and exceptional sufferings. To produce an effect +is their delight; they have an almost insensate +fondness for romantic provincial ladies. When +old age approaches they become either peaceful +landed-gentry or drunkards -- sometimes both. +Frequently they have many good qualities, but +they have not a grain of poetry in their com- +position. Grushnitski's passion was declamation. +He would deluge you with words so soon as the +conversation went beyond the sphere of ordinary +ideas. I have never been able to dispute with him. +He neither answers your questions nor listens to +you. So soon as you stop, he begins a lengthy +tirade, which has the appearance of being in some +sort connected with what you have been saying, +but which is, in fact, only a continuation of his +own harangue. + +He is witty enough; his epigrams are fre- +quently amusing, but never malicious, nor to the +point. He slays nobody with a single word; he +has no knowledge of men and of their foibles, +because all his life he has been interested in +nobody but himself. His aim is to make himself +the hero of a novel. He has so often endeavoured +to convince others that he is a being created not +for this world and doomed to certain mysterious +sufferings, that he has almost convinced himself +that such he is in reality. Hence the pride with +which he wears his thick soldier's cloak. I have +seen through him, and he dislikes me for that +reason, although to outward appearance we are +on the friendliest of terms. Grushnitski is looked +upon as a man of distinguished courage. I +have seen him in action. He waves his sabre, +shouts, and hurls himself forward with his eyes +shut. That is not what I should call Russian +courage! . . . + +I reciprocate Grushnitski's dislike. I feel +that some time or other we shall come into +collision upon a narrow road, and that one of us +will fare badly. + +His arrival in the Caucasus is also the result +of his romantic fanaticism. I am convinced +that on the eve of his departure from his paternal +village he said with an air of gloom to some pretty +neighbour that he was going away, not so much +for the simple purpose of serving in the army as of +seeking death, because . . . and hereupon, I am +sure, he covered his eyes with his hand and +continued thus, "No, you -- or thou -- must not +know! Your pure soul would shudder! And +what would be the good? What am I to +you? Could you understand me?" . . . and +so on. + +He has himself told me that the motive which +induced him to enter the K---- regiment must +remain an everlasting secret between him and +Heaven. + +However, in moments when he casts aside the +tragic mantle, Grushnitski is charming and +entertaining enough. I am always interested +to see him with women -- it is then that he puts +forth his finest efforts, I think! + +We met like a couple of old friends. I began +to question him about the personages of note and +as to the sort of life which was led at the waters. + +"It is a rather prosaic life," he said, with a +sigh. "Those who drink the waters in the +morning are inert -- like all invalids, and those who +drink the wines in the evening are unendurable -- +like all healthy people! There are ladies who +entertain, but there is no great amusement to be +obtained from them. They play whist, they +dress badly and speak French dreadfully! The +only Moscow people here this year are Princess +Ligovski and her daughter -- but I am not +acquainted with them. My soldier's cloak is like +a seal of renunciation. The sympathy which it +arouses is as painful as charity." + +At that moment two ladies walked past us in +the direction of the well; one elderly, the other +youthful and slender. I could not obtain a good +view of their faces on account of their hats, but +they were dressed in accordance with the strict +rules of the best taste -- nothing superfluous. +The second lady was wearing a high-necked dress +of pearl-grey, and a light silk kerchief was wound +round her supple neck. Puce-coloured boots +clasped her slim little ankle so charmingly, that +even those uninitiated into the mysteries of +beauty would infallibly have sighed, if only from +wonder. There was something maidenly in her +easy, but aristocratic gait, something eluding +definition yet intelligible to the glance. As she +walked past us an indefinable perfume, like that +which sometimes breathes from the note of a +charming woman, was wafted from her. + +"Look!" said Grushnitski, "there is Princess +Ligovski with her daughter Mary, as she calls her +after the English manner. They have been here +only three days." + +"You already know her name, though?" + +"Yes, I heard it by chance," he answered, with +a blush. "I confess I do not desire to make their +acquaintance. These haughty aristocrats look +upon us army men just as they would upon +savages. What care they if there is an intellect +beneath a numbered forage-cap, and a heart +beneath a thick cloak?" + +"Poor cloak!" I said, with a laugh. "But who +is the gentleman who is just going up to them +and handing them a tumbler so officiously?" + +"Oh, that is Raevich, the Moscow dandy. He +is a gambler; you can see as much at once from +that immense gold chain coiling across his sky- +blue waistcoat. And what a thick cane he has! +Just like Robinson Crusoe's -- and so is his beard +too, and his hair is done like a peasant's." + +"You are embittered against the whole human +race?" + +"And I have cause to be" . . . + +"Oh, really?" + +At that moment the ladies left the well and +came up to where we were. Grushnitski suc- +ceeded in assuming a dramatic pose with the aid +of his crutch, and in a loud tone of voice answered +me in French: + +"Mon cher, je hais les hommes pour ne pas les +mepriser, car autrement la vie serait une farce +trop degoutante." + +The pretty Princess Mary turned round and +favoured the orator with a long and curious +glance. Her expression was quite indefinite, but +it was not contemptuous, a fact on which I +inwardly congratulated Grushnitski from my +heart. + +"She is an extremely pretty girl," I said. "She +has such velvet eyes -- yes, velvet is the word. I +should advise you to appropriate the expression +when speaking of her eyes. The lower and upper +lashes are so long that the sunbeams are not +reflected in her pupils. I love those eyes without +a glitter, they are so soft that they appear to +caress you. However, her eyes seem to be her +only good feature. . . Tell me, are her teeth +white? That is most important! It is a pity +that she did not smile at that high-sounding +phrase of yours." + +"You are speaking of a pretty woman just as +you might of an English horse," said Grushnitski +indignantly. + +"Mon cher," I answered, trying to mimic his +tone, "je meprise les femmes, pour ne pas les +aimer, car autrement la vie serait un melodrame +trop ridicule." + +I turned and left him. For half an hour or so +I walked about the avenues of the vines, the +limestone cliffs and the bushes hanging between +them. The day grew hot, and I hurried home- +wards. Passing the sulphur spring, I stopped at +the covered gallery in order to regain my breath +under its shade, and by so doing I was afforded the +opportunity of witnessing a rather interesting +scene. This is the position in which the dramatis +personae were disposed: Princess Ligovski and +the Moscow dandy were sitting on a bench +in the covered gallery -- apparently engaged in +serious conversation. Princess Mary, who had +doubtless by this time finished her last tumbler, +was walking pensively to and fro by the well. +Grushnitski was standing by the well itself; +there was nobody else on the square. + +I went up closer and concealed myself behind +a corner of the gallery. At that moment Grush- +nitski let his tumbler fall on the sand and made +strenuous efforts to stoop in order to pick it up; +but his injured foot prevented him. Poor +fellow! How he tried all kinds of artifices, as he +leaned on his crutch, and all in vain! His +expressive countenance was, in fact, a picture of +suffering. + +Princess Mary saw the whole scene better +than I. + +Lighter than a bird she sprang towards him, +stooped, picked up the tumbler, and handed it to +him with a gesture full of ineffable charm. Then +she blushed furiously, glanced round at the +gallery, and, having assured herself that her +mother apparently had not seen anything, im- +mediately regained her composure. By the time +Grushnitski had opened his mouth to thank her +she was a long way off. A moment after, she came +out of the gallery with her mother and the dandy, +but, in passing by Grushnitski, she assumed a most +decorous and serious air. She did not even turn +round, she did not even observe the passionate +gaze which he kept fixed upon her for a long time +until she had descended the mountain and was +hidden behind the lime trees of the boulevard. . . +Presently I caught glimpses of her hat as she +walked along the street. She hurried through +the gate of one of the best houses in Pyatigorsk; +her mother walked behind her and bowed adieu to +Raevich at the gate. + +It was only then that the poor, passionate +cadet noticed my presence. + +"Did you see?" he said, pressing my hand +vigorously. "She is an angel, simply an angel!" + +"Why?" I inquired, with an air of the purest +simplicity. + +"Did you not see, then?" + +"No. I saw her picking up your tumbler. If +there had been an attendant there he would have +done the same thing -- and quicker too, in the hope +of receiving a tip. It is quite easy, however, to +understand that she pitied you; you made such a +terrible grimace when you walked on the wounded +foot." + +"And can it be that seeing her, as you did, +at that moment when her soul was shining in her +eyes, you were not in the least affected?" + +"No." + +I was lying, but I wanted to exasperate him. I +have an innate passion for contradiction -- my +whole life has been nothing but a series of melan- +choly and vain contradictions of heart or reason. +The presence of an enthusiast chills me with a +twelfth-night cold, and I believe that constant +association with a person of a flaccid and phleg- +matic temperament would have turned me into +an impassioned visionary. I confess, too, that +an unpleasant but familiar sensation was coursing +lightly through my heart at that moment. It +was -- envy. I say "envy" boldly, because I am +accustomed to acknowledge everything to myself. +It would be hard to find a young man who, if his +idle fancy had been attracted by a pretty woman +and he had suddenly found her openly singling +out before his eyes another man equally unknown +to her -- it would be hard, I say, to find such a +young man (living, of course, in the great world +and accustomed to indulge his self-love) who +would not have been unpleasantly taken aback +in such a case. + +In silence Grushnitski and I descended the +mountain and walked along the boulevard, past +the windows of the house where our beauty had +hidden herself. She was sitting by the window. +Grushnitski, plucking me by the arm, cast upon +her one of those gloomily tender glances which +have so little effect upon women. I directed my +lorgnette at her, and observed that she smiled at +his glance and that my insolent lorgnette made +her downright angry. And how, indeed, should +a Caucasian military man presume to direct his +eyeglass at a princess from Moscow? . . . + + + +CHAPTER II + +13th May. + +THIS morning the doctor came to see me. +His name is Werner, but he is a Russian. +What is there surprising in that? I have known +a man named Ivanov, who was a German. + +Werner is a remarkable man, and that for many +reasons. Like almost all medical men he is a +sceptic and a materialist, but, at the same time, +he is a genuine poet -- a poet always in deeds and +often in words, although he has never written +two verses in his life. He has mastered all the +living chords of the human heart, just as one +learns the veins of a corpse, but he has never +known how to avail himself of his knowledge. In +like manner, it sometimes happens that an +excellent anatomist does not know how to cure a +fever. Werner usually made fun of his patients +in private; but once I saw him weeping over a +dying soldier. . . He was poor, and dreamed +of millions, but he would not take a single step +out of his way for the sake of money. He once +told me that he would rather do a favour to an +enemy than to a friend, because, in the latter +case, it would mean selling his beneficence, whilst +hatred only increases proportionately to the +magnanimity of the adversary. He had a +malicious tongue; and more than one good, +simple soul has acquired the reputation of a +vulgar fool through being labelled with one of his +epigrams. His rivals, envious medical men of the +watering-place, spread the report that he was in +the habit of drawing caricatures of his patients. +The patients were incensed, and almost all of +them discarded him. His friends, that is to +say all the genuinely well-bred people who were +serving in the Caucasus, vainly endeavoured to +restore his fallen credit. + +His outward appearance was of the type which, +at the first glance, creates an unpleasant impres- +sion, but which you get to like in course of +time, when the eye learns to read in the ir- +regular features the stamp of a tried and lofty +soul. Instances have been known of women +falling madly in love with men of that sort, and +having no desire to exchange their ugliness for the +beauty of the freshest and rosiest of Endymions. +We must give women their due: they possess an +instinct for spiritual beauty, for which reason, +possibly, men such as Werner love women so +passionately. + +Werner was small and lean and as weak as a +baby. One of his legs was shorter than the other, +as was the case with Byron. In comparison with +his body, his head seemed enormous. His hair was +cropped close, and the unevennesses of his cranium, +thus laid bare, would have struck a phrenologist +by reason of the strange intertexture of con- +tradictory propensities. His little, ever restless, +black eyes seemed as if they were endeavouring +to fathom your thoughts. Taste and neatness +were to be observed in his dress. His small, lean, +sinewy hands flaunted themselves in bright-yellow +gloves. His frock-coat, cravat and waistcoat were +invariably of black. The young men dubbed him +Mephistopheles; he pretended to be angry at the +nickname, but in reality it flattered his vanity. +Werner and I soon understood each other and +became friends, because I, for my part, am ill- +adapted for friendship. Of two friends, one is +always the slave of the other, although frequently +neither acknowledges the fact to himself. Now, +the slave I could not be; and to be the master +would be a wearisome trouble, because, at the +same time, deception would be required. Besides, +I have servants and money! + +Our friendship originated in the following +circumstances. I met Werner at S----, in the +midst of a numerous and noisy circle of young +people. Towards the end of the evening the +conversation took a philosophico-metaphysical +turn. We discussed the subject of convictions, +and each of us had some different conviction to +declare. + +"So far as I am concerned," said the doctor, +"I am convinced of one thing only" . . . + +"And that is --?" I asked, desirous of +learning the opinion of a man who had been silent +till then. + +"Of the fact," he answered, "that sooner or +later, one fine morning, I shall die." + +"I am better off than you," I said. "In addi- +tion to that, I have a further conviction, namely, +that, one very nasty evening, I had the misfor- +tune to be born." + +All the others considered that we were talking +nonsense, but indeed not one of them said any- +thing more sensible. From that moment we +singled each other out amongst the crowd. We +used frequently to meet and discuss abstract +subjects in a very serious manner, until each +observed that the other was throwing dust in his +eyes. Then, looking significantly at each other -- +as, according to Cicero, the Roman augurs used +to do -- we would burst out laughing heartily and, +having had our laugh, we would separate, well +content with our evening. + +I was lying on a couch, my eyes fixed upon the +ceiling and my hands clasped behind my head, +when Werner entered my room. He sat down in +an easy chair, placed his cane in a corner, yawned, +and announced that it was getting hot out of +doors. I replied that the flies were bothering +me -- and we both fell silent. + +"Observe, my dear doctor," I said, "that, but +for fools, the world would be a very dull place. +Look! Here are you and I, both sensible men! +We know beforehand that it is possible to dispute +ad infinitum about everything -- and so we do not +dispute. Each of us knows almost all the other's +secret thoughts: to us a single word is a whole +history; we see the grain of every one of our +feelings through a threefold husk. What is sad, +we laugh at; what is laughable, we grieve at; +but, to tell the truth, we are fairly indifferent, +generally speaking, to everything except our- +selves. Consequently, there can be no inter- +change of feelings and thoughts between us; +each of us knows all he cares to know about the +other, and that knowledge is all he wants. One +expedient remains -- to tell the news. So tell me +some news." + +Fatigued by this lengthy speech, I closed my +eyes and yawned. The doctor answered after +thinking awhile: + +"There is an idea, all the same, in that non- +sense of yours." + +"Two," I replied. + +"Tell me one, and I will tell you the other." + +"Very well, begin!" I said, continuing to +examine the ceiling and smiling inwardly. + +"You are anxious for information about some +of the new-comers here, and I can guess who it is, +because they, for their part, have already been +inquiring about you." + +"Doctor! Decidedly it is impossible for us to +hold a conversation! We read into each other's +soul." + +"Now the other idea?" . . . + +"Here it is: I wanted to make you relate +something, for the following reasons: firstly, +listening is less fatiguing than talking; secondly, +the listener cannot commit himself; thirdly, he +can learn another's secret; fourthly, sensible +people, such as you, prefer listeners to speakers. +Now to business; what did Princess Ligovski tell +you about me?" + +"You are quite sure that it was Princess +Ligovski . . . and not Princess Mary?" . . . + +"Quite sure." + +"Why?" + +"Because Princess Mary inquired about Grush- +nitski." + +"You are gifted with a fine imagination! +Princess Mary said that she was convinced that +the young man in the soldier's cloak had been +reduced to the ranks on account of a duel" . . . + +"I hope you left her cherishing that pleasant +delusion" . . . + +"Of course" . . . + +"A plot!" I exclaimed in rapture. "We will +make it our business to see to the denouement of +this little comedy. It is obvious that fate is +taking care that I shall not be bored!" + +"I have a presentiment," said the doctor, +"that poor Grushnitski will be your victim." + +"Proceed, doctor." + +"Princess Ligovski said that your face was +familiar to her. I observed that she had probably +met you in Petersburg -- somewhere in society. . . +I told her your name. She knew it well. It appears +that your history created a great stir there. . . +She began to tell us of your adventures, most +likely supplementing the gossip of society with +observations of her own. . . Her daughter listened +with curiosity. In her imagination you have be- +come the hero of a novel in a new style. . . I +did not contradict Princess Ligovski, although +I knew that she was talking nonsense." + +"Worthy friend!" I said, extending my hand +to him. + +The doctor pressed it feelingly and continued: + +"If you like I will present you" . . . + +"Good heavens!" I said, clapping my hands. +"Are heroes ever presented? In no other way do +they make the acquaintance of their beloved than +by saving her from certain death!" . . . + +"And you really wish to court Princess Mary?" + +"Not at all, far from it! . . . Doctor, I triumph +at last! You do not understand me! . . . +It vexes me, however," I continued after a +moment's silence. "I never reveal my secrets +myself, but I am exceedingly fond of their being +guessed, because in that way I can always disavow +them upon occasion. However, you must describe +both mother and daughter to me. What sort of +people are they?" + +"In the first place, Princess Ligovski is a +woman of forty-five," answered Werner. "She +has a splendid digestion, but her blood is out of +order -- there are red spots on her cheeks. She +has spent the latter half of her life in Moscow, +and has grown stout from leading an inactive life +there. She loves spicy stories, and sometimes +says improper things herself when her daughter is +out of the room. She has declared to me that her +daughter is as innocent as a dove. What does +that matter to me? . . . I was going to answer +that she might be at her ease, because I would +never tell anyone. Princess Ligovski is taking the +cure for her rheumatism, and the daughter, for +goodness knows what. I have ordered each of +them to drink two tumblers a day of sulphurous +water, and to bathe twice a week in the diluted +bath. Princess Ligovski is apparently unac- +customed to giving orders. She cherishes respect +for the intelligence and attainments of her +daughter, who has read Byron in English and +knows algebra: in Moscow, evidently, the ladies +have entered upon the paths of erudition -- and +a good thing, too! The men here are generally so +unamiable, that, for a clever woman, it must be +intolerable to flirt with them. Princess Ligovski +is very fond of young people; Princess Mary looks +on them with a certain contempt -- a Moscow +habit! In Moscow they cherish only wits of +not less than forty." + +"You have been in Moscow, doctor?" + +"Yes, I had a practice there." + +"Continue." + +"But I think I have told everything. . . +No, there is something else: Princess Mary, it +seems, loves to discuss emotions, passions, etcetera. +She was in Petersburg for one winter, and disliked +it -- especially the society: no doubt she was +coldly received." + +"You have not seen anyone with them to- +day?" + +"On the contrary, there was an aide-de-camp, +a stiff guardsman, and a lady -- one of the latest +arrivals, a relation of Princess Ligovski on the +husband's side -- very pretty, but apparently +very ill. . . Have you not met her at the well? +She is of medium height, fair, with regular +features; she has the complexion of a con- +sumptive, and there is a little black mole on her +right cheek. I was struck by the expressiveness +of her face." + +"A mole!" I muttered through my teeth. +"Is it possible?" + +The doctor looked at me, and, laying his hand +on my heart, said triumphantly: + +"You know her!" + +My heart was, in fact, beating more violently +than usual. + +"It is your turn, now, to triumph," I said. +"But I rely on you: you will not betray me. +I have not seen her yet, but I am convinced that +I recognise from your portrait a woman whom I +loved in the old days. . . Do not speak a word +to her about me; if she asks any questions, give +a bad report of me." + +"Be it so!" said Werner, shrugging his +shoulders. + +When he had departed, my heart was com- +pressed with terrible grief. Has destiny brought +us together again in the Caucasus, or has she come +hither on purpose, knowing that she would meet +me? . . . And how shall we meet? . . . And +then, is it she? . . . My presentiments have +never deceived me. There is not a man in the +world over whom the past has acquired such a +power as over me. Every recollection of bygone +grief or joy strikes my soul with morbid effect, +and draws forth ever the same sounds. . . I +am stupidly constituted: I forget nothing -- no- +thing! + +After dinner, about six o'clock, I went on to the +boulevard. It was crowded. The two princesses +were sitting on a bench, surrounded by young +men, who were vying with each other in paying +them attention. I took up my position on another +bench at a little distance off, stopped two Dragoon +officers whom I knew, and proceeded to tell them +something. Evidently it was amusing, because +they began to laugh loudly like a couple of mad- +men. Some of those who were surrounding +Princess Mary were attracted to my side by +curiosity, and gradually all of them left her and +joined my circle. I did not stop talking; my +anecdotes were clever to the point of absurdity, +my jests at the expense of the queer people +passing by, malicious to the point of frenzy. I +continued to entertain the public till sunset. +Princess Mary passed by me a few times, arm-in- +arm with her mother, and accompanied by a +certain lame old man. A few times her glance +as it fell upon me expressed vexation, while en- +deavouring to express indifference. . . + +"What has he been telling you?" she in- +quired of one of the young men, who had gone +back to her out of politeness. "No doubt +a most interesting story -- his own exploits in +battle?" . . . + +This was said rather loudly, and probably with +the intention of stinging me. + +"Aha!" I thought to myself. "You are +downright angry, my dear Princess. Wait awhile, +there is more to follow." + +Grushnitski kept following her like a beast of +prey, and would not let her out of his sight. I +wager that to-morrow he will ask somebody to +present him to Princess Ligovski. She will be +glad, because she is bored. + + + +CHAPTER III + +16th May. + +IN the course of two days my affairs have +gained ground tremendously. Princess Mary +positively hates me. Already I have had repeated +to me two or three epigrams on the subject of +myself -- rather caustic, but at the same time +very flattering. She finds it exceedingly strange +that I, who am accustomed to good society, and +am so intimate with her Petersburg cousins and +aunts, do not try to make her acquaintance. +Every day we meet at the well and on the boule- +vard. I exert all my powers to entice away her +adorers, glittering aides-de-camp, pale-faced +visitors from Moscow, and others -- and I almost +always succeed. I have always hated entertaining +guests: now my house is full every day; they +dine, sup, gamble, and alas! my champagne +triumphs over the might of Princess Mary's +magnetic eyes! + +I met her yesterday in Chelakhov's shop. She +was bargaining for a marvellous Persian rug, and +implored her mother not to be niggardly: the +rug would be such an ornament to her boudoir. . . +I outbid her by forty rubles, and bought it over +her head. I was rewarded with a glance in which +the most delightful fury sparkled. About dinner- +time, I ordered my Circassian horse, covered with +that very rug, purposely to be led past her +windows. Werner was with the princesses at the +time, and told me that the effect of the scene +was most dramatic. Princess Mary wishes to +preach a crusade against me, and I have even +noticed that, already, two of the aides-de-camp +salute me very coldly, when they are in her pre- +sence -- they dine with me every day, however. + +Grushnitski has assumed an air of mystery; he +walks with his arms folded behind his back and +does not recognise anyone. His foot has got well +all at once, and there is hardly a sign of a limp. +He has found an opportunity of entering into +conversation with Princess Ligovski and of +paying Princess Mary some kind of a compliment. +The latter is evidently not very fastidious, for, +ever since, she answers his bow with a most +charming smile. + +"Are you sure you do not wish to make the +Ligovskis' acquaintance?" he said to me yester- +day. + +"Positive." + +"Good gracious! The pleasantest house at the +waters! All the best society of Pyatigorsk is to +be found there" . . . + +"My friend, I am terribly tired of even other +society than that of Pyatigorsk. So you visit the +Ligovskis?" + +"Not yet. I have spoken to Princess Mary +once or twice, but that is all. You know it is +rather awkward to go and visit them without +being invited, although that is the custom here. . . +It would be a different matter if I was wearing +epaulettes" . . . + +"Good heavens! Why, you are much more +interesting as it is! You simply do not know how +to avail yourself of your advantageous position. . . +Why, that soldier's cloak makes a hero and a +martyr of you in the eyes of any lady of senti- +ment!" + +Grushnitski smiled complacently. + +"What nonsense!" he said. + +"I am convinced," I continued, "that Princess +Mary is in love with you already." + +He blushed up to the ears and looked big. + +Oh, vanity! Thou art the lever with which +Archimedes was to lift the earthly sphere! . . . + +"You are always jesting!" he said, pretending +to be angry. "In the first place, she knows so +little of me as yet" . . . + +"Women love only those whom they do not +know!" + +"But I have no pretensions whatsoever to +pleasing her. I simply wish to make the ac- +quaintance of an agreeable household; and it +would be extremely ridiculous if I were to cherish +the slightest hope. . . With you, now, for instance, +it is a different matter! You Petersburg con- +querors! You have but to look -- and women +melt. . . But do you know, Pechorin, what +Princess Mary said of you?" . . . + +"What? She has spoken to you already +about me?" . . . + +"Do not rejoice too soon, though. The other +day, by chance, I entered into conversation with +her at the well; her third word was, 'Who is that +gentleman with such an unpleasant, heavy +glance? He was with you when' . . . she +blushed, and did not like to mention the day, +remembering her own delightful little exploit. +'You need not tell me what day it was,' I +answered; 'it will ever be present to my +memory!' . . . Pechorin, my friend, I cannot +congratulate you, you are in her black books. . . +And, indeed, it is a pity, because Mary is a +charming girl!" . . . + +It must be observed that Grushnitski is one of +those men who, in speaking of a woman with +whom they are barely acquainted, call her my +Mary, my Sophie, if she has had the good fortune +to please them. + +I assumed a serious air and answered: + +"Yes, she is good-looking. . . Only be care- +ful, Grushnitski! Russian ladies, for the most +part, cherish only Platonic love, without mingling +any thought of matrimony with it; and Platonic +love is exceedingly embarrassing. Princess Mary +seems to be one of those women who want to be +amused. If she is bored in your company for two +minutes on end -- you are lost irrevocably. Your +silence ought to excite her curiosity, your con- +versation ought never to satisfy it completely; +you should alarm her every minute; ten times, in +public, she will slight people's opinion for you and +will call that a sacrifice, and, in order to requite +herself for it, she will torment you. Afterwards +she will simply say that she cannot endure you. +If you do not acquire authority over her, even her +first kiss will not give you the right to a second. +She will flirt with you to her heart's content, and, +in two years' time, she will marry a monster, in +obedience to her mother, and will assure herself +that she is unhappy, that she has loved only one +man -- that is to say, you -- but that Heaven was +not willing to unite her to him because he wore a +soldier's cloak, although beneath that thick, grey +cloak beat a heart, passionate and noble" . . . + +Grushnitski smote the table with his fist +and fell to walking to and fro across the +room. + +I laughed inwardly and even smiled once or +twice, but fortunately he did not notice. It is +evident that he is in love, because he has grown +even more confiding than heretofore. Moreover, +a ring has made its appearance on his finger, a +silver ring with black enamel of local workman- +ship. It struck me as suspicious. . . I began +to examine it, and what do you think I saw? The +name Mary was engraved on the inside in small +letters, and in a line with the name was the date +on which she had picked up the famous tumbler. +I kept my discovery a secret. I do not want to +force confessions from him, I want him, of his +own accord, to choose me as his confidant -- and +then I will enjoy myself! . . . + + . . . . . + +To-day I rose late. I went to the well. I +found nobody there. The day grew hot. White, +shaggy cloudlets were flitting rapidly from the +snow-clad mountains, giving promise of a thunder- +storm; the summit of Mount Mashuk was +smoking like a just extinguished torch; grey +wisps of cloud were coiling and creeping like +snakes around it, arrested in their rapid sweep +and, as it were, hooked to its prickly brushwood. +The atmosphere was charged with electricity. I +plunged into the avenue of the vines leading to +the grotto. + +I felt low-spirited. I was thinking of the lady +with the little mole on her cheek, of whom the +doctor had spoken to me. . . "Why is she +here?" I thought. "And is it she? And what +reason have I for thinking it is? And why am I +so certain of it? Is there not many a woman +with a mole on her cheek?" Reflecting in such +wise I came right up to the grotto. I looked in +and I saw that a woman, wearing a straw hat and +wrapped in a black shawl, was sitting on a stone +seat in the cold shade of the arch. Her head was +sunk upon her breast, and the hat covered her face. +I was just about to turn back, in order not +to disturb her meditations, when she glanced +at me. + +"Vera!" I exclaimed involuntarily. + +She started and turned pale. + +"I knew that you were here," she said. + +I sat down beside her and took her hand. A +long-forgotten tremor ran through my veins at +the sound of that dear voice. She gazed into my +face with her deep, calm eyes. Mistrust and +something in the nature of reproach were ex- +pressed in her glance. + +"We have not seen each other for a long time," +I said. + +"A long time, and we have both changed in +many ways." + +"Consequently you love me no longer?" . . . + +"I am married!" . . . she said. + +"Again? A few years ago, however, that +reason also existed, but, nevertheless" . . . + +She plucked her hand away from mine and her +cheeks flamed. + +"Perhaps you love your second husband?" . . . + +She made no answer and turned her head +away. + +"Or is he very jealous?" + +She remained silent. + +"What then? He is young, handsome and, +I suppose, rich -- which is the chief thing -- and +you are afraid?" . . . + +I glanced at her and was alarmed. Profound +despair was depicted upon her countenance; +tears were glistening in her eyes. + +"Tell me," she whispered at length, "do you +find it very amusing to torture me? I ought to +hate you. Since we have known each other, you +have given me naught but suffering" . . . + +Her voice shook; she leaned over to me, and +let her head sink upon my breast. + +"Perhaps," I reflected, "it is for that very +reason that you have loved me; joys are forgotten, +but sorrows never" . . . + +I clasped her closely to my breast, and so we +remained for a long time. At length our lips drew +closer and became blent in a fervent, intoxicating +kiss. Her hands were cold as ice; her head was +burning. + +And hereupon we embarked upon one of those +conversations which, on paper, have no sense, +which it is impossible to repeat, and impossible +even to retain in memory. The meaning of the +sounds replaces and completes the meaning of the +words, as in Italian opera. + +She is decidedly averse to my making the +acquaintance of her husband, the lame old man +of whom I had caught a glimpse on the boulevard. +She married him for the sake of her son. He is +rich, and suffers from attacks of rheumatism. I +did not allow myself even a single scoff at his +expense. She respects him as a father, and will +deceive him as a husband. . . A strange thing, +the human heart in general, and woman's heart +in particular. + +Vera's husband, Semyon Vasilevich G----v, +is a distant relation of Princess Ligovski. He +lives next door to her. Vera frequently visits the +Princess. I have given her my promise to make +the Ligovskis' acquaintance, and to pay court to +Princess Mary in order to distract attention from +Vera. In such way, my plans have been not a little +deranged, but it will be amusing for me. . . + +Amusing! . . . Yes, I have already passed +that period of spiritual life when happiness alone +is sought, when the heart feels the urgent +necessity of violently and passionately loving +somebody. Now my only wish is to be loved, and +that by very few. I even think that I would be +content with one constant attachment. A +wretched habit of the heart! . . . + +One thing has always struck me as strange. I +have never made myself the slave of the woman +I have loved. On the contrary, I have always +acquired an invincible power over her will and +heart, without in the least endeavouring to do so. +Why is this? Is it because I never esteem any- +thing highly, and she has been continually afraid +to let me out of her hands? Or is it the magnetic +influence of a powerful organism? Or is it, +simply, that I have never succeeded in meeting a +woman of stubborn character? + +I must confess that, in fact, I do not love +women who possess strength of character. What +business have they with such a thing? + +Indeed, I remember now. Once and once only +did I love a woman who had a firm will which I +was never able to vanquish. . . We parted as +enemies -- and then, perhaps, if I had met her +five years later we would have parted other- +wise. . . + +Vera is ill, very ill, although she does not +admit it. I fear she has consumption, or that +disease which is called "fievre lente" -- a quite un- +Russian disease, and one for which there is no +name in our language. + +The storm overtook us while in the grotto and +detained us half an hour longer. Vera did not +make me swear fidelity, or ask whether I had +loved others since we had parted. . . She trusted +in me anew with all her former unconcern, and I +will not deceive her: she is the only woman in the +world whom it would never be within my power +to deceive. I know that we shall soon have to +part again, and perchance for ever. We will both +go by different ways to the grave, but her memory +will remain inviolable within my soul. I have +always repeated this to her, and she believes me, +although she says she does not. + +At length we separated. For a long time I +followed her with my eyes, until her hat was +hidden behind the shrubs and rocks. My heart +was painfully contracted, just as after our first +parting. Oh, how I rejoiced in that emotion! +Can it be that youth is about to come back to me, +with its salutary tempests, or is this only the fare- +well glance, the last gift -- in memory of itself? . . . +And to think that, in appearance, I am still a +boy! My face, though pale, is still fresh; +my limbs are supple and slender; my hair is thick +and curly, my eyes sparkle, my blood boils. . . + +Returning home, I mounted on horseback and +galloped to the steppe. I love to gallop on a fiery +horse through the tall grass, in the face of the +desert wind; greedily I gulp down the fragrant +air and fix my gaze upon the blue distance, +endeavouring to seize the misty outlines of +objects which every minute grow clearer and +clearer. Whatever griefs oppress my heart, +whatever disquietudes torture my thoughts -- all +are dispersed in a moment; my soul becomes at +ease; the fatigue of the body vanquishes the +disturbance of the mind. There is not a woman's +glance which I would not forget at the sight of +the tufted mountains, illumined by the southern +sun; at the sight of the dark-blue sky, or in +hearkening to the roar of the torrent as it falls +from cliff to cliff. + +I believe that the Cossacks, yawning on their +watch-towers, when they saw me galloping thus +needlessly and aimlessly, were long tormented by +that enigma, because from my dress, I am sure, +they took me to be a Circassian. I have, in fact, +been told that when riding on horseback, in my +Circassian costume, I resemble a Kabardian more +than many a Kabardian himself. And, indeed, +so far as regards that noble, warlike garb, I am a +perfect dandy. I have not a single piece of gold +lace too much; my weapon is costly, but simply +wrought; the fur on my cap is neither too long +nor too short; my leggings and shoes are matched +with all possible accuracy; my tunic is white; +my Circassian jacket, dark-brown. I have long +studied the mountaineer seat on horseback, and +in no way is it possible to flatter my vanity so much +as by acknowledging my skill in horsemanship in +the Cossack mode. I keep four horses -- one for +myself and three for my friends, so that I may +not be bored by having to roam about the fields +all alone; they take my horses with pleasure, and +never ride with me. + +It was already six o'clock in the evening, when I +remembered that it was time to dine. My horse +was jaded. I rode out on to the road leading from +Pyatigorsk to the German colony, to which the +society of the watering-place frequently rides +en piquenique. The road meanders between +bushes and descends into little ravines, through +which flow noisy brooks beneath the shade of tall +grasses. All around, in an amphitheatre, rise the +blue masses of Mount Beshtau and the Zmeiny, +Zhelezny and Lysy Mountains.[1] Descending +into one of those ravines, I halted to water my +horse. At that moment a noisy and glittering +cavalcade made its appearance upon the road -- +the ladies in black and dark-blue riding habits, the +cavaliers in costumes which formed a medley of +the Circassian and Nizhegorodian.[2] In front +rode Grushnitski with Princess Mary. + +[1] The Snake, the Iron and the Bald Mountains. + +[2] Nizhegorod is the "government" of which Nizhniy- +Novgorod is the capital. + +The ladies at the watering-place still believe in +attacks by Circassians in broad daylight; for that +reason, doubtless, Grushnitski had slung a sabre +and a pair of pistols over his soldier's cloak. He +looked ridiculous enough in that heroic attire. + +I was concealed from their sight by a tall bush, +but I was able to see everything through the +leaves, and to guess from the expression of their +faces that the conversation was of a sentimental +turn. At length they approached the slope; +Grushnitski took hold of the bridle of the +Princess's horse, and then I heard the conclusion +of their conversation: + +"And you wish to remain all your life in the +Caucasus?" said Princess Mary. + +"What is Russia to me?" answered her +cavalier. "A country in which thousands of +people, because they are richer than I, will look +upon me with contempt, whilst here -- here this +thick cloak has not prevented my acquaintance +with you" . . . + +"On the contrary" . . . said Princess Mary, +blushing. + +Grushnitski's face was a picture of delight. He +continued: + +"Here, my life will flow along noisily, un- +observed, and rapidly, under the bullets of the +savages, and if Heaven were every year to send me +a single bright glance from a woman's eyes -- +like that which --" + +At that moment they came up to where I was. +I struck my horse with the whip and rode out +from behind the bush. . . + +"Mon Dieu, un circassien!" . . . exclaimed +Princess Mary in terror. + +In order completely to undeceive her, I +replied in French, with a slight bow: + +"Ne craignez rien, madame, je ne suis pas plus +dangereux que votre cavalier" . . . + +She grew embarrassed -- but at what? At her +own mistake, or because my answer struck her as +insolent? I should like the latter hypothesis to +be correct. Grushnitski cast a discontented +glance at me. + +Late in the evening, that is to say, about eleven +o'clock, I went for a walk in the lilac avenue of the +boulevard. The town was sleeping; lights were +gleaming in only a few windows. On three sides +loomed the black ridges of the cliffs, the spurs of +Mount Mashuk, upon the summit of which an +ominous cloud was lying. The moon was rising +in the east; in the distance, the snow-clad moun- +tains glistened like a fringe of silver. The calls +of the sentries mingled at intervals with the roar +of the hot springs let flow for the night. At +times the loud clattering of a horse rang out +along the street, accompanied by the creaking +of a Nagai wagon and the plaintive burden of a +Tartar song. + +I sat down upon a bench and fell into a +reverie. . . I felt the necessity of pouring forth +my thoughts in friendly conversation. . . But +with whom? . . . + +"What is Vera doing now?" I wondered. + +I would have given much to press her hand at +that moment. + +All at once I heard rapid and irregular +steps. . . Grushnitski, no doubt! . . . So it +was! + +"Where have you come from?" + +"From Princess Ligovski's," he said very +importantly. "How well Mary does sing!" . . . + +"Do you know?" I said to him. "I wager +that she does not know that you are a cadet. She +thinks you are an officer reduced to the ranks" . . . + +"Maybe so. What is that to me!" . . . he +said absently. + +"No, I am only saying so" . . . + +"But, do you know that you have made her +terribly angry to-day? She considered it an un- +heard-of piece of insolence. It was only with +difficulty that I was able to convince her that you +are so well bred and know society so well that you +could not have had any intention of insulting her. +She says that you have an impudent glance, and +that you have certainly a very high opinion of +yourself." + +"She is not mistaken. . . But do you not +want to defend her?" + +"I am sorry I have not yet the right to do +so" . . . + +"Oho!" I said to myself, "evidently he has +hopes already." + +"However, it is the worse for you," con- +tinued Grushnitski; "it will be difficult for +you to make their acquaintance now, and what +a pity! It is one of the most agreeable houses +I know" . . . + +I smiled inwardly. + +"The most agreeable house to me now is my +own," I said, with a yawn, and I got up +to go. + +"Confess, though, you repent?" . . . + +"What nonsense! If I like I will be at +Princess Ligovski's to-morrow evening!" . . . + +"We shall see" . . . + +"I will even begin to pay my addresses to +Princess Mary, if you would like me to" . . . + +"Yes, if she is willing to speak to you" . . . + +"I am only awaiting the moment when she will +be bored by your conversation. . . Good- +bye" . . . + +"Well, I am going for a stroll; I could not go +to sleep now for anything. . . Look here, let +us go to the restaurant instead, there is card- +playing going on there. . . What I need now +is violent sensations" . . . + +"I hope you will lose" . . . + +I went home. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +21st May. + +NEARLY a week has passed, and I have not +yet made the Ligovskis' acquaintance. I am +awaiting a convenient opportunity. Grushnitski +follows Princess Mary everywhere like a shadow. +Their conversations are interminable; but, +when will she be tired of him? . . . Her +mother pays no attention, because he is not +a man who is in a position to marry. Behold +the logic of mothers! I have caught two +or three tender glances -- this must be put a +stop to. + +Yesterday, for the first time, Vera made +her appearance at the well. . . She has never +gone out of doors since we met in the +grotto. We let down our tumblers at the same +time, and as she bent forward she whispered +to me: + +"You are not going to make the Ligovskis' +acquaintance? . . . It is only there that we can +meet" . . . + +A reproach! . . . How tiresome! But I have +deserved it. . . + +By the way, there is a subscription ball to- +morrow in the saloon of the restaurant, and I will +dance the mazurka with Princess Mary. + + + +CHAPTER V + +29th May. + +THE saloon of the restaurant was converted +into the assembly room of a Nobles' Club. +The company met at nine o'clock. Princess +Ligovski and her daughter were amongst the +latest to make their appearance. Several of the +ladies looked at Princess Mary with envy and +malevolence, because she dresses with taste. +Those who look upon themselves as the aris- +tocracy of the place concealed their envy and +attached themselves to her train. What else +could be expected? Wherever there is a gathering +of women, the company is immediately divided +into a higher and a lower circle. + +Beneath the window, amongst a crowd of +people, stood Grushnitski, pressing his face to the +pane and never taking his eyes off his divinity. +As she passed by, she gave him a hardly per- +ceptible nod. He beamed like the sun. . . +The first dance was a polonaise, after which the +musicians struck up a waltz. Spurs began to +jingle, and skirts to rise and whirl. + +I was standing behind a certain stout lady who +was overshadowed by rose-coloured feathers. +The magnificence of her dress reminded me of +the times of the farthingale, and the motley hue +of her by no means smooth skin, of the happy +epoch of the black taffeta patch. An immense +wart on her neck was covered by a clasp. She was +saying to her cavalier, a captain of dragoons: + +"That young Princess Ligovski is a most +intolerable creature! Just fancy, she jostled +against me and did not apologise, but even turned +round and stared at me through her lorgn- +ette! . . . C'est impayable! . . . And what +has she to be proud of? It is time somebody +gave her a lesson" . . . + +"That will be easy enough," replied the +obliging captain, and he directed his steps to the +other room. + +I went up to Princess Mary immediately, and, +availing myself of the local customs which allowed +one to dance with a stranger, I invited her to +waltz with me. + +She was scarcely able to keep from smiling and +letting her triumph be seen; but quickly enough +she succeeded in assuming an air of perfect +indifference and even severity. Carelessly she let +her hand fall upon my shoulder, inclined her head +slightly to one side, and we began to dance. I have +never known a waist more voluptuous and supple! +Her fresh breath touched my face; at times a +lock of hair, becoming separated from its com- +panions in the eddy of the waltz, glided over my +burning cheek. . . + +I made three turns of the ballroom (she +waltzes surprisingly well). She was out of breath, +her eyes were dulled, her half-open lips were +scarcely able to whisper the indispensable: +"merci, monsieur." + +After a few moments' silence I said to her, +assuming a very humble air: + +"I have heard, Princess, that although quite +unacquainted with you, I have already had the +misfortune to incur your displeasure . . . that +you have considered me insolent. Can that +possibly true?" + +"Would you like to confirm me in that +opinion now?" she answered, with an ironical +little grimace -- very becoming, however, to her +mobile countenance. + +"If I had the audacity to insult you in any way, +then allow me to have the still greater audacity to +beg your pardon. . . And, indeed, I should +very much like to prove to you that you are +mistaken in regard to me" . . . + +"You will find that a rather difficult task" . . . + +"But why?" . . . + +"Because you never visit us and, most +likely, there will not be many more of these +balls." + +"That means," I thought, "that their doors +are closed to me for ever." + +"You know, Princess," I said to her, with a +certain amount of vexation, "one should never +spurn a penitent criminal: in his despair he may +become twice as much a criminal as before . . . +and then" . . . + +Sudden laughter and whispering from the +people around us caused me to turn my head and +to interrupt my phrase. A few paces away from +me stood a group of men, amongst them the +captain of dragoons, who had manifested inten- +tions hostile to the charming Princess. He was +particularly well pleased with something or other, +and was rubbing his hands, laughing and ex- +changing meaning glances with his companions. +All at once a gentleman in an evening-dress coat +and with long moustaches and a red face separated +himself from the crowd and directed his uncertain +steps straight towards Princess Mary. He was +drunk. Coming to a halt opposite the em- +barrassed Princess and placing his hands behind +his back, he fixed his dull grey eyes upon her, and +said in a hoarse treble: + +"Permettez . . . but what is the good of that +sort of thing here. . . All I need say is: I en- +gage you for the mazurka" . . . + +"Very well!" she replied in a trembling voice, +throwing a beseeching glance around. Alas! Her +mother was a long way off, and not one of the +cavaliers of her acquaintance was near. A certain +aide-de-camp apparently saw the whole scene, +but he concealed himself behind the crowd in +order not to be mixed up in the affair. + +"What?" said the drunken gentleman, wink- +ing to the captain of dragoons, who was encourag- +ing him by signs. "Do you not wish to dance +then? . . . All the same I again have the honour +to engage you for the mazurka. . . You think, +perhaps, that I am drunk! That is all right! . . . +I can dance all the easier, I assure you" . . . + +I saw that she was on the point of fainting with +fright and indignation. + +I went up to the drunken gentleman, caught +him none too gently by the arm, and, looking +him fixedly in the face, requested him to retire. +"Because," I added, "the Princess promised +long ago to dance the mazurka with me." + +"Well, then, there's nothing to be done! +Another time!" he said, bursting out laughing, +and he retired to his abashed companions, who +immediately conducted him into another room. + +I was rewarded by a deep, wondrous glance. + +The Princess went up to her mother and told +her the whole story. The latter sought me out +among the crowd and thanked me. She informed +me that she knew my mother and was on terms of +friendship with half a dozen of my aunts. + +"I do not know how it has happened that we +have not made your acquaintance up to now," she +added; "but confess, you alone are to blame for +that. You fight shy of everyone in a positively +unseemly way. I hope the air of my drawing- +room will dispel your spleen. . . Do you not +think so?" + +I uttered one of the phrases which everybody +must have ready for such an occasion. + +The quadrilles dragged on a dreadfully long +time. + +At last the music struck up from the gallery, +Princess Mary and I took up our places. + +I did not once allude to the drunken gentleman, +or to my previous behaviour, or to Grushnitski. +The impression produced upon her by the +unpleasant scene was gradually dispelled; her +face brightened up; she jested very charmingly; +her conversation was witty, without pretensions to +wit, vivacious and spontaneous; her observations +were sometimes profound. . . In a very involved +sentence I gave her to understand that I had +liked her for a long time. She bent her head and +blushed slightly. + +"You are a strange man!" she said, with a +forced laugh, lifting her velvet eyes upon me. + +"I did not wish to make your acquaintance," I +continued, "because you are surrounded by too +dense a throng of adorers, in which I was afraid +of being lost to sight altogether." + +"You need not have been afraid; they are all +very tiresome" . . . + +"All? Not all, surely?" + +She looked fixedly at me as if endeavouring to +recollect something, then blushed slightly again +and finally pronounced with decision: + +"All!" + +"Even my friend, Grushnitski?" + +"But is he your friend?" she said, manifesting +some doubt. + +"Yes." + +"He, of course, does not come into the category +of the tiresome" . . . + +"But into that of the unfortunate!" I said, +laughing. + +"Of course! But do you consider that +funny? I should like you to be in his place" . . . + +"Well? I was once a cadet myself, and, in +truth, it was the best time of my life!" + +"Is he a cadet, then?" . . . she said rapidly, +and then added: "But I thought" . . . + +"What did you think?" . . . + +"Nothing! Who is that lady?" + +Thereupon the conversation took a different +direction, and it did not return to the former +subject. + +And now the mazurka came to an end and we +separated -- until we should meet again. The +ladies drove off in different directions. I went to +get some supper, and met Werner. + +"Aha!" he said: "so it is you! And yet you +did not wish to make the acquaintance of Princess +Mary otherwise than by saving her from certain +death." + +"I have done better," I replied. "I have +saved her from fainting at the ball" . . . + +"How was that? Tell me." + +"No, guess! -- O, you who guess everything in +the world!" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +30th May. + +ABOUT seven o'clock in the evening, I was +walking on the boulevard. Grushnitski +perceived me a long way off, and came up to me. +A sort of ridiculous rapture was shining in his +eyes. He pressed my hand warmly, and said in a +tragic voice: + +"I thank you, Pechorin. . . You understand +me?" + +"No; but in any case it is not worth grati- +tude," I answered, not having, in fact, any good +deed upon my conscience. + +"What? But yesterday! Have you for- +gotten? . . . Mary has told me everything" . . . + +"Why! Have you everything in common so +soon as this? Even gratitude?" . . . + +"Listen," said Grushnitski very earnestly; +"pray do not make fun of my love, if you wish to +remain my friend. . . You see, I love her to +the point of madness . . . and I think -- I +hope -- she loves me too. . . I have a request to +make of you. You will be at their house this even- +ing; promise me to observe everything. I know +you are experienced in these matters, you know +women better than I. . . Women! Women! +Who can understand them? Their smiles contra- +dict their glances, their words promise and allure, +but the tone of their voice repels. . . At one +time they grasp and divine in a moment our most +secret thoughts, at another they cannot under- +stand the clearest hints. . . Take Princess +Mary, now: yesterday her eyes, as they rested +upon me, were blazing with passion; to-day +they are dull and cold" . . . + +"That is possibly the result of the waters," I +replied. + +"You see the bad side of everything . . . +materialist," he added contemptuously. "How- +ever, let us talk of other matters." + +And, satisfied with his bad pun, he cheered +up. + +At nine o'clock we went to Princess Ligovski's +together. + +Passing by Vera's windows, I saw her looking +out. We threw a fleeting glance at each other. +She entered the Ligovskis' drawing-room soon +after us. Princess Ligovski presented me to her, +as a relation of her own. Tea was served. The +guests were numerous, and the conversation was +general. I endeavoured to please the Princess, +jested, and made her laugh heartily a few times. +Princess Mary, also, was more than once on the +point of bursting out laughing, but she restrained +herself in order not to depart from the role she +had assumed. She finds languor becoming to her, +and perhaps she is not mistaken. Grushnitski +appears to be very glad that she is not infected by +my gaiety. + +After tea we all went into the drawing- +room. + +"Are you satisfied with my obedience, Vera?" +I said as I was passing her. + +She threw me a glance full of love and grati- +tude. I have grown accustomed to such glances; +but at one time they constituted my felicity. +The Princess seated her daughter at the piano- +forte, and all the company begged her to sing. +I kept silence, and, taking advantage of the +hubbub, I went aside to the window with Vera, +who wished to say something of great import- +ance to both of us. . . It turned out to be -- +nonsense. . . + +Meanwhile my indifference was vexing Princess +Mary, as I was able to make out from a single +angry, gleaming glance which she cast at me. . . +Oh! I understand the method of conversation +wonderfully well: mute but expressive, brief but +forceful! . . . + +She began to sing. She has a good voice, but +she sings badly. . . However, I was not listening. + +Grushnitski, on the contrary, leaning his elbows +on the grand piano, facing her, was devouring +her with his eyes and saying in an undertone +every minute: "Charmant! Delicieux!" + +"Listen," said Vera to me, "I do not wish you +to make my husband's acquaintance, but you +must, without fail, make yourself agreeable to +the Princess; that will be an easy task for you: +you can do anything you wish. It is only here that +we shall see each other" . . . + +"Only here?" . . . + +She blushed and continued: + +"You know that I am your slave: I have never +been able to resist you . . . and I shall be punished +for it, you will cease to love me! At least, I want +to preserve my reputation . . . not for myself -- +that you know very well! . . . Oh! I beseech +you: do not torture me, as before, with idle +doubts and feigned coldness! It may be that I +shall die soon; I feel that I am growing weaker +from day to day. . . And, yet, I cannot think +of the future life, I think only of you. . . You +men do not understand the delights of a glance, +of a pressure of the hand . . . but as for me, I +swear to you that, when I listen to your voice, +I feel such a deep, strange bliss that the most +passionate kisses could not take its place." + +Meanwhile, Princess Mary had finished her +song. Murmurs of praise were to be heard all +around. I went up to her after all the other +guests, and said something rather carelessly to +her on the subject of her voice. + +She made a little grimace, pouting her lower +lip, and dropped a very sarcastic curtsey. + +"That is all the more flattering," she said, +"because you have not been listening to me at +all; but perhaps you do not like music?" . . . + +"On the contrary, I do . . . After dinner, +especially." + +"Grushnitski is right in saying that you have +very prosaic tastes . . . and I see that you like +music in a gastronomic respect." + +"You are mistaken again: I am by no means an +epicure. I have a most wretched digestion. But +music after dinner puts one to sleep, and to sleep +after dinner is healthful; consequently I like +music in a medicinal respect. In the evening, +on the contrary, it excites my nerves too much: +I become either too melancholy or too gay. Both +are fatiguing, where there is no positive reason +for being either sorrowful or glad. And, more- +over, melancholy in society is ridiculous, and too +great gaiety is unbecoming" . . . + +She did not hear me to the end, but went away +and sat beside Grushnitski, and they entered +into a sort of sentimental conversation. Ap- +parently the Princess answered his sage phrases +rather absent-mindedly and inconsequently, +although endeavouring to show that she was +listening to him with attention, because sometimes +he looked at her in astonishment, trying to divine +the cause of the inward agitation which was +expressed at times in her restless glance . . . + +But I have found you out, my dear Princess! +Have a care! You want to pay me back in the +same coin, to wound my vanity -- you will not +succeed! And if you declare war on me, I will +be merciless! + +In the course of the evening, I purposely tried +a few times to join in their conversation, but she +met my remarks rather coldly, and, at last, I +retired in pretended vexation. Princess Mary +was triumphant, Grushnitski likewise. Triumph, +my friends, and be quick about it! . . . You will +not have long to triumph! . . . It cannot be +otherwise. I have a presentiment. . . On making +a woman's acquaintance I have always unerringly +guessed whether she would fall in love with me +or not. + +The remaining part of the evening I spent at +Vera's side, and talked to the full about the +old days. . . Why does she love me so much? +In truth, I am unable to say, all the more so +because she is the only woman who has understood +me perfectly, with all my petty weaknesses and +evil passions. . . Can it be that wickedness is +so attractive? . . . + +Grushnitski and I left the house together. In +the street he took my arm, and, after a long +silence, said: + +"Well?" + +"You are a fool," I should have liked to answer. +But I restrained myself and only shrugged my +shoulders. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +6th June. + +ALL these days I have not once departed from +my system. Princess Mary has come to like +talking to me; I have told her a few of the +strange events of my life, and she is beginning to +look on me as an extraordinary man. I mock at +everything in the world, especially feelings; and +she is taking alarm. When I am present, she does +not dare to embark upon sentimental discussions +with Grushnitski, and already, on a few occasions, +she has answered his sallies with a mocking smile. +But every time that Grushnitski comes up to her +I assume an air of meekness and leave the two of +them together. On the first occasion, she was +glad, or tried to make it appear so; on the +second, she was angry with me; on the third -- +with Grushnitski. + +"You have very little vanity!" she said to me +yesterday. "What makes you think that I find +Grushnitski the more entertaining?" + +I answered that I was sacrificing my own +pleasure for the sake of the happiness of a friend. + +"And my pleasure, too," she added. + +I looked at her intently and assumed a serious +air. After that for the whole day I did not speak +a single word to her. . . In the evening, she was +pensive; this morning, at the well, more pensive +still. When I went up to her, she was listening +absent-mindedly to Grushnitski, who was ap- +parently falling into raptures about Nature, but, +so soon as she perceived me, she began to laugh -- +at a most inopportune moment -- pretending not +to notice me. I went on a little further and +began stealthily to observe her. She turned +away from her companion and yawned twice. +Decidedly she had grown tired of Grushnitski -- I +will not talk to her for another two days. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +11th June. + +I OFTEN ask myself why I am so obstinately +endeavouring to win the love of a young girl +whom I do not wish to deceive, and whom I will +never marry. Why this woman-like coquetry? +Vera loves me more than Princess Mary ever will. +Had I regarded the latter as an invincible beauty, I +should perhaps have been allured by the difficulty +of the undertaking. . . + +However, there is no such difficulty in this +case! Consequently, my present feeling is not +that restless craving for love which torments us +in the early days of our youth, flinging us from +one woman to another until we find one who can- +not endure us. And then begins our constancy -- +that sincere, unending passion which may be +expressed mathematically by a line falling from +a point into space -- the secret of that endlessness +lying only in the impossibility of attaining the +aim, that is to say, the end. + +From what motive, then, am I taking all this +trouble? -- Envy of Grushnitski? Poor fellow! + +He is quite undeserving of it. Or, is it the result +of that ugly, but invincible, feeling which causes +us to destroy the sweet illusions of our neighbour +in order to have the petty satisfaction of saying +to him, when, in despair, he asks what he is to +believe: + +"My friend, the same thing happened to me, +and you see, nevertheless, that I dine, sup, and +sleep very peacefully, and I shall, I hope, know +how to die without tears and lamentations." + +There is, in sooth, a boundless enjoyment in the +possession of a young, scarce-budded soul! It is +like a floweret which exhales its best perfume at +the kiss of the first ray of the sun. You should +pluck the flower at that moment, and, breathing +its fragrance to the full, cast it upon the road: +perchance someone will pick it up! I feel +within me that insatiate hunger which devours +everything it meets upon the way; I look upon +the sufferings and joys of others only from the +point of view of their relation to myself, regarding +them as the nutriment which sustains my +spiritual forces. I myself am no longer capable +of committing follies under the influence of +passion; with me, ambition has been repressed +by circumstances, but it has emerged in another +form, because ambition is nothing more nor less +than a thirst for power, and my chief pleasure is +to make everything that surrounds me subject to +my will. To arouse the feeling of love, devotion +and awe towards oneself -- is not that the first sign, +and the greatest triumph, of power? To be the +cause of suffering and joy to another -- without +in the least possessing any definite right to be +so -- is not that the sweetest food for our pride? +And what is happiness? -- Satisfied pride. Were +I to consider myself the best, the most powerful +man in the world, I should be happy; were all to +love me, I should find within me inexhaustible +springs of love. Evil begets evil; the first +suffering gives us the conception of the satis- +faction of torturing another. The idea of evil +cannot enter the mind without arousing a desire +to put it actually into practice. "Ideas are +organic entities," someone has said. The very +fact of their birth endows them with form, and +that form is action. He in whose brain the most +ideas are born accomplishes the most. From +that cause a genius, chained to an official desk, +must die or go mad, just as it often happens that +a man of powerful constitution, and at the same +time of sedentary life and simple habits, dies of +an apoplectic stroke. + +Passions are naught but ideas in their first +development; they are an attribute of the youth +of the heart, and foolish is he who thinks that he +will be agitated by them all his life. Many quiet +rivers begin their course as noisy waterfalls, and +there is not a single stream which will leap or +foam throughout its way to the sea. That quiet- +ness, however, is frequently the sign of great, +though latent, strength. The fulness and depth +of feelings and thoughts do not admit of frenzied +outbursts. In suffering and in enjoyment the soul +renders itself a strict account of all it experiences +and convinces itself that such things must be. It +knows that, but for storms, the constant heat of +the sun would dry it up! It imbues itself with +its own life -- pets and punishes itself like a +favourite child. It is only in that highest state +of self-knowledge that a man can appreciate the +divine justice. + +On reading over this page, I observe that I have +made a wide digression from my subject. . . +But what matter? . . . You see, it is for myself +that I am writing this diary, and, consequently +anything that I jot down in it will in time be a +valuable reminiscence for me. + + . . . . . + +Grushnitski has called to see me to-day. He +flung himself upon my neck; he has been pro- +moted to be an officer. We drank champagne. +Doctor Werner came in after him. + +"I do not congratulate you," he said to +Grushnitski. + +"Why not?" + +"Because the soldier's cloak suits you very well, +and you must confess that an infantry uniform, +made by one of the local tailors, will not add +anything of interest to you. . . Do you not +see? Hitherto, you have been an exception, +but now you will come under the general +rule." + +"Talk away, doctor, talk away! You will not +prevent me from rejoicing. He does not know," +added Grushnitski in a whisper to me, "how +many hopes these epaulettes have lent me. . . +Oh! . . . Epaulettes, epaulettes! Your little +stars are guiding stars! No! I am perfectly +happy now!" + +"Are you coming with us on our walk to the +hollow?" I asked him. + +"I? Not on any account will I show myself to +Princess Mary until my uniform is finished." + +"Would you like me to inform her of your +happiness?" + +"No, please, not a word. . . I want to give +her a surprise" . . . + +"Tell me, though, how are you getting on +with her?" + +He became embarrassed, and fell into thought; +he would gladly have bragged and told lies, but +his conscience would not let him; and, at the +same time, he was ashamed to confess the +truth. + +"What do you think? Does she love +you?" . . . + +"Love me? Good gracious, Pechorin, what +ideas you do have! . . . How could she possibly +love me so soon? . . . And a well-bred woman, +even if she is in love, will never say so" . . . + +"Very well! And, I suppose, in your opinion, +a well-bred man should also keep silence in regard +to his passion?" . . . + +"Ah, my dear fellow! There are ways of +doing everything; often things may remain +unspoken, but yet may be guessed" . . . + +"That is true. . . But the love which we +read in the eyes does not pledge a woman to any- +thing, whilst words. . . Have a care, Grush- +nitski, she is befooling you!" + +"She?" he answered, raising his eyes heaven- +ward and smiling complacently. "I am sorry for +you, Pechorin!" . . . + +He took his departure. + +In the evening, a numerous company set off to +walk to the hollow. + +In the opinion of the learned of Pyatigorsk, the +hollow in question is nothing more nor less than +an extinct crater. It is situated on a slope of +Mount Mashuk, at the distance of a verst from +the town, and is approached by a narrow path +between brushwood and rocks. In climbing up +the hill, I gave Princess Mary my arm, and +she did not leave it during the whole excur- +sion. + +Our conversation commenced with slander; I +proceeded to pass in review our present and +absent acquaintances; at first I exposed their +ridiculous, and then their bad, sides. My choler +rose. I began in jest, and ended in genuine +malice. At first she was amused, but afterwards +frightened. + +"You are a dangerous man!" she said. "I +would rather perish in the woods under the knife +of an assassin than under your tongue. . . In all +earnestness I beg of you: when it comes into +your mind to speak evil of me, take a knife instead +and cut my throat. I think you would not find +that a very difficult matter." + +"Am I like an assassin, then?" . . . + +"You are worse" . . . + +I fell into thought for a moment; then, +assuming a deeply moved air, I said: + +"Yes, such has been my lot from very child- +hood! All have read upon my countenance the +marks of bad qualities, which were not existent; +but they were assumed to exist -- and they were +born. I was modest -- I was accused of slyness: I +grew secretive. I profoundly felt both good and +evil -- no one caressed me, all insulted me: I +grew vindictive. I was gloomy -- other children +merry and talkative; I felt myself higher than +they -- I was rated lower: I grew envious. I +was prepared to love the whole world -- no one +understood me: I learned to hate. My colour- +less youth flowed by in conflict with myself and +the world; fearing ridicule, I buried my best +feelings in the depths of my heart, and there they +died. I spoke the truth -- I was not believed: I +began to deceive. Having acquired a thorough +knowledge of the world and the springs of +society, I grew skilled in the science of life; and I +saw how others without skill were happy, en- +joying gratuitously the advantages which I so +unweariedly sought. Then despair was born +within my breast -- not that despair which is cured +at the muzzle of a pistol, but the cold, powerless +despair concealed beneath the mask of amiability +and a good-natured smile. I became a moral +cripple. One half of my soul ceased to exist; it +dried up, evaporated, died, and I cut it off and +cast it from me. The other half moved and +lived -- at the service of all; but it remained un- +observed, because no one knew that the half +which had perished had ever existed. But, now, +the memory of it has been awakened within me +by you, and I have read you its epitaph. To +many, epitaphs in general seem ridiculous, but +to me they do not; especially when I remember +what reposes beneath them. I will not, however, +ask you to share my opinion. If this outburst +seems absurd to you, I pray you, laugh! I fore- +warn you that your laughter will not cause me the +least chagrin." + +At that moment I met her eyes: tears were +welling in them. Her arm, as it leaned upon +mine, was trembling; her cheeks were aflame; +she pitied me! Sympathy -- a feeling to which +all women yield so easily, had dug its talons into +her inexperienced heart. During the whole +excursion she was preoccupied, and did not flirt +with anyone -- and that is a great sign! + +We arrived at the hollow; the ladies left their +cavaliers, but she did not let go my arm. The +witticisms of the local dandies failed to make +her laugh; the steepness of the declivity beside +which she was standing caused her no alarm, +although the other ladies uttered shrill cries and +shut their eyes. + +On the way back, I did not renew our melan- +choly conversation, but to my idle questions +and jests she gave short and absent-minded +answers. + +"Have you ever been in love?" I asked her at +length. + +She looked at me intently, shook her head and +again fell into a reverie. It was evident that she +was wishing to say something, but did not know +how to begin. Her breast heaved. . . And, +indeed, that was but natural! A muslin sleeve is +a weak protection, and an electric spark was +running from my arm to hers. Almost all passions +have their beginning in that way, and frequently +we are very much deceived in thinking that a +woman loves us for our moral and physical merits; +of course, these prepare and predispose the heart +for the reception of the holy flame, but for all that +it is the first touch that decides the matter. + +"I have been very amiable to-day, have I +not?" Princess Mary said to me, with a forced +smile, when we had returned from the walk. + +We separated. + +She is dissatisfied with herself. She accuses +herself of coldness. . . Oh, that is the first, the +chief triumph! + +To-morrow, she will be feeling a desire to +recompense me. I know the whole proceeding +by heart already -- that is what is so tiresome! + + + +CHAPTER IX + +12th June. + +I HAVE seen Vera to-day. She has begun to +plague me with her jealousy. Princess Mary +has taken it into her head, it seems, to confide +the secrets of her heart to Vera: a happy choice, +it must be confessed! + +"I can guess what all this is leading to," said +Vera to me. "You had better simply tell me at +once that you are in love with her." + +"But supposing I am not in love with +her?" + +"Then why run after her, disturb her, agitate +her imagination! . . . Oh, I know you well! +Listen -- if you wish me to believe you, come to +Kislovodsk in a week's time; we shall be moving +thither the day after to-morrow. Princess Mary +will remain here longer. Engage lodgings next +door to us. We shall be living in the large house +near the spring, on the mezzanine floor. Princess +Ligovski will be below us, and next door there +is a house belonging to the same landlord, +which has not yet been taken. . . Will you +come?" . . . + +I gave my promise, and this very same day I +have sent to engage the lodgings. + +Grushnitski came to me at six o'clock and +announced that his uniform would be ready +to-morrow, just in time for him to go to the +ball in it. + +"At last I shall dance with her the whole +evening through. . . And then I shall talk to +my heart's content," he added. + +"When is the ball?" + +"Why, to-morrow! Do you not know, then? +A great festival -- and the local authorities have +undertaken to organize it" . . . + +"Let us go to the boulevard" . . . + +"Not on any account, in this nasty cloak" . . . + +"What! Have you ceased to love it?" . . . + +I went out alone, and, meeting Princess +Mary I asked her to keep the mazurka for me. +She seemed surprised and delighted. + +"I thought that you would only dance from +necessity as on the last occasion," she said, with a +very charming smile. . . + +She does not seem to notice Grushnitski's +absence at all. + +"You will be agreeably surprised to-morrow," +I said to her. + +"At what?" + +"That is a secret. . . You will find it out +yourself, at the ball." + +I finished up the evening at Princess Ligovski's; +there were no other guests present except Vera +and a certain very amusing, little old gentleman. +I was in good spirits, and improvised various +extraordinary stories. Princess Mary sat opposite +me and listened to my nonsense with such deep, +strained, and even tender attention that I grew +ashamed of myself. What had become of her +vivacity, her coquetry, her caprices, her haughty +mien, her contemptuous smile, her absent- +minded glance? . . . + +Vera noticed everything, and her sickly coun- +tenance was a picture of profound grief. She was +sitting in the shadow by the window, buried in +a wide arm-chair. . . I pitied her. + +Then I related the whole dramatic story of our +acquaintanceship, our love -- concealing it all, of +course, under fictitious names. + +So vividly did I portray my tenderness, my +anxieties, my raptures; in so favourable a light +did I exhibit her actions and her character, that +involuntarily she had to forgive me for my +flirtation with Princess Mary. + +She rose, sat down beside us, and brightened +up . . . and it was only at two o'clock in the +morning that we remembered that the doctors +had ordered her to go to bed at eleven. + + + +CHAPTER X + +13th June. + +HALF an hour before the ball, Grushnitski +presented himself to me in the full splendour +of the uniform of the Line infantry. Attached +to his third button was a little bronze chain, on +which hung a double lorgnette. Epaulettes of +incredible size were bent backwards and upwards +in the shape of a cupid's wings; his boots +creaked; in his left hand he held cinnamon- +coloured kid gloves and a forage-cap, and with +his right he kept every moment twisting his +frizzled tuft of hair up into tiny curls. Com- +placency and at the same time a certain diffi- +dence were depicted upon his face. His festal +appearance and proud gait would have made me +burst out laughing, if such a proceeding had +been in accordance with my intentions. + +He threw his cap and gloves on the table and +began to pull down the skirts of his coat and to +put himself to rights before the looking-glass. An +enormous black handkerchief, which was twisted +into a very high stiffener for his cravat, and the +bristles of which supported his chin, stuck out an +inch over his collar. It seemed to him to be +rather small, and he drew it up as far as his ears. +As a result of that hard work -- the collar of his +uniform being very tight and uncomfortable -- +he grew red in the face. + +"They say you have been courting my princess +terribly these last few days?" he said, rather +carelessly and without looking at me. + +"'Where are we fools to drink tea!'"[1] I +answered, repeating a pet phrase of one of the +cleverest rogues of past times, once celebrated in +song by Pushkin. + +[1] A popular phrase, equivalent to: "How should I think +of doing such a thing?" + +"Tell me, does my uniform fit me well? . . . +Oh, the cursed Jew! . . . How it cuts me +under the armpits! . . . Have you got any +scent?" + +"Good gracious, what more do you want? +You are reeking of rose pomade as it is." + +"Never mind. Give me some" . . . + +He poured half a phial over his cravat, his +pocket-handkerchief, his sleeves. + +"You are going to dance?" he asked. + +"I think not." + +"I am afraid I shall have to lead off the +mazurka with Princess Mary, and I scarcely know +a single figure" . . . + +"Have you asked her to dance the mazurka +with you?" + +"Not yet" . . . + +"Mind you are not forestalled" . . . + +"Just so, indeed!" he said, striking his fore- +head. "Good-bye. . . I will go and wait for +her at the entrance." + +He seized his forage-cap and ran. + +Half an hour later I also set off. The street +was dark and deserted. Around the assembly +rooms, or inn -- whichever you prefer -- people +were thronging. The windows were lighted up, +the strains of the regimental band were borne to +me on the evening breeze. I walked slowly; I +felt melancholy. + +"Can it be possible," I thought, "that my sole +mission on earth is to destroy the hopes of others? +Ever since I began to live and to act, it seems +always to have been my fate to play a part in the +ending of other people's dramas, as if, but for me, +no one could either die or fall into despair! I +have been the indispensable person of the fifth +act; unwillingly I have played the pitiful part of +an executioner or a traitor. What object has fate +had in this? . . . Surely, I have not been +appointed by destiny to be an author of middle- +class tragedies and family romances, or to be a +collaborator with the purveyor of stories -- for the +'Reader's Library,'[1] for example? . . . How +can I tell? . . . Are there not many people who, +in beginning life, think to end it like Lord Byron +or Alexander the Great, and, nevertheless, +remain Titular Councillors[2] all their days?" + +[1] Published by Senkovski, and under the censorship of the +Government. + +[2] Civil servants of the ninth (the lowest) class. + +Entering the saloon, I concealed myself in a +crowd of men, and began to make my observa- +tions. + +Grushnitski was standing beside Princess Mary +and saying something with great warmth. She +was listening to him absent-mindedly and looking +about her, her fan laid to her lips. Impatience +was depicted upon her face, her eyes were +searching all around for somebody. I went +softly behind them in order to listen to their +conversation. + +"You torture me, Princess!" Grushnitski +was saying. "You have changed dreadfully since +I saw you last" . . . + +"You, too, have changed," she answered, casting +a rapid glance at him, in which he was unable to +detect the latent sneer. + +"I! Changed? . . . Oh, never! You know +that such a thing is impossible! Whoever has +seen you once will bear your divine image with +him for ever." + +"Stop" . . . + +"But why will you not let me say to-night +what you have so often listened to with con- +descension -- and just recently, too?" . . . + +"Because I do not like repetitions," she +answered, laughing. + +"Oh! I have been bitterly mistaken! . . . +I thought, fool that I was, that these epaulettes, +at least, would give me the right to hope. . . +No, it would have been better for me to have +remained for ever in that contemptible soldier's +cloak, to which, probably, I was indebted for your +attention" . . . + +"As a matter of fact, the cloak is much more +becoming to you" . . . + +At that moment I went up and bowed to +Princess Mary. She blushed a little, and went on +rapidly: + +"Is it not true, Monsieur Pechorin, that the +grey cloak suits Monsieur Grushnitski much +better?" . . . + +"I do not agree with you," I answered: +"he is more youthful-looking still in his +uniform." + +That was a blow which Grushnitski could not +bear: like all boys, he has pretensions to being an +old man; he thinks that the deep traces of +passions upon his countenance take the place of +the lines scored by Time. He cast a furious +glance at me, stamped his foot, and took himself +off. + +"Confess now," I said to Princess Mary: "that +although he has always been most ridiculous, yet +not so long ago he seemed to you to be inter- +esting . . . in the grey cloak?" . . . + +She cast her eyes down and made no reply. + +Grushnitski followed the Princess about during +the whole evening and danced either with her or +vis-a-vis. He devoured her with his eyes, sighed, +and wearied her with prayers and reproaches. +After the third quadrille she had begun to hate +him. + +"I did not expect this from you," he said, +coming up to me and taking my arm. + +"What?" + +"You are going to dance the mazurka with +her?" he asked in a solemn tone. "She ad- +mitted it" . . . + +"Well, what then? It is not a secret, +is it"?* + +"Of course not. . . I ought to have expected +such a thing from that chit -- that flirt. . . I +will have my revenge, though!" + +"You should lay the blame on your cloak, or +your epaulettes, but why accuse her? What +fault is it of hers that she does not like you any +longer?" . . . + +"But why give me hopes?" + +"Why did you hope? To desire and to strive +after something -- that I can understand! But +who ever hopes?" + +"You have won the wager, but not quite," he +said, with a malignant smile. + +The mazurka began. Grushnitski chose no one +but the Princess, other cavaliers chose her every +minute: obviously a conspiracy against me -- +all the better! She wants to talk to me, they are +preventing her -- she will want to twice as +much. + +I squeezed her hand once or twice; the +second time she drew it away without saying a +word. + +"I shall sleep badly to-night," she said to me +when the mazurka was over. + +"Grushnitski is to blame for that." + +"Oh, no!" + +And her face became so pensive, so sad, that I +promised myself that I would not fail to kiss her +hand that evening. + +The guests began to disperse. As I was handing +Princess Mary into her carriage, I rapidly pressed +her little hand to my lips. The night was dark +and nobody could see. + +I returned to the saloon very well satisfied +with myself. + +The young men, Grushnitski amongst them, +were having supper at the large table. As +I came in, they all fell silent: evidently they +had been talking about me. Since the last +ball many of them have been sulky with me, +especially the captain of dragoons; and now, +it seems, a hostile gang is actually being +formed against me, under the command of +Grushnitski. He wears such a proud and +courageous air. . . + +I am very glad; I love enemies, though not in +the Christian sense. They amuse me, stir my +blood. To be always on one's guard, to catch +every glance, the meaning of every word, to guess +intentions, to crush conspiracies, to pretend to be +deceived and suddenly with one blow to over- +throw the whole immense and laboriously con- +structed edifice of cunning and design -- that is +what I call life. + +During supper Grushnitski kept whispering +and exchanging winks with the captain of +dragoons. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +14th June. + +VERA and her husband left this morning for +Kislovodsk. I met their carriage as I was +walking to Princess Ligovski's. Vera nodded to +me: reproach was in her glance. + +Who is to blame, then? Why will she not give +me an opportunity of seeing her alone? Love is +like fire -- if not fed it dies out. Perchance, +jealousy will accomplish what my entreaties have +failed to do. + +I stayed a whole hour at Princess Ligovski's. +Mary has not been out, she is ill. In the evening +she was not on the boulevard. The newly formed +gang, armed with lorgnettes, has in very fact +assumed a menacing aspect. I am glad that +Princess Mary is ill; they might be guilty of +some impertinence towards her. Grushnitski +goes about with dishevelled locks, and wears an +appearance of despair: he is evidently afflicted, +as a matter of fact; his vanity especially +has been injured. But, you see, there are +some people in whom even despair is divert- +ing! . . . + +On my way home I noticed that something was +lacking. I have not seen her! She is ill! Surely +I have not fallen in love with her in real +earnest? . . . What nonsense! + + + +CHAPTER XII + +15th June. + +AT eleven o'clock in the morning -- the hour at +which Princess Ligovski is usually perspiring +in the Ermolov baths -- I walked past her house. +Princess Mary was sitting pensively at the window; +on seeing me she sprang up. + +I entered the ante-room, there was nobody +there, and, availing myself of the freedom afforded +by the local customs, I made my way, unan- +nounced, into the drawing-room. + +Princess Mary's charming countenance was +shrouded with a dull pallor. She was standing +by the pianoforte, leaning one hand on the back +of an arm-chair; her hand was very faintly +trembling. I went up to her softly and +said: + +"You are angry with me?" . . . + +She lifted a deep, languid glance upon me and +shook her head. Her lips were about to utter +something, but failed; her eyes filled with tears; +she sank into the arm-chair and buried her face in +her hands. + +"What is the matter with you?" I said, taking +her hand. + +"You do not respect me! . . . Oh, leave me!" . . . + +I took a few steps. . . She drew herself up in +the chair, her eyes sparkled. + +I stopped still, took hold of the handle of the +door, and said: + +"Forgive me, Princess. I have acted like a +madman. . . It will not happen another time; +I shall see to that. . . But how can you know +what has been taking place hitherto within my +soul? That you will never learn, and so much +the better for you. Farewell." + +As I was going out, I seemed to hear her +weeping. + +I wandered on foot about the environs of +Mount Mashuk till evening, fatigued myself +terribly and, on arriving home, flung myself on +my bed, utterly exhausted. + +Werner came to see me. + +"Is it true," he asked, "that you are going to +marry Princess Mary?" + +"What?" + +"The whole town is saying so. All my +patients are occupied with that important piece +of news; but you know what these patients are: +they know everything." + +"This is one of Grushnitski's tricks," I said to +myself. + +"To prove the falsity of these rumours, doctor, +I may mention, as a secret, that I am moving to +Kislovodsk to-morrow" . . . + +"And Princess Mary, too?" + +"No, she remains here another week" . . . + +"So you are not going to get married?" . . . + +"Doctor, doctor! Look at me! Am I in the +least like a bridegroom, or any such thing?" + +"I am not saying so. . . But you know there +are occasions . . ." he added, with a crafty +smile -- "in which an honourable man is obliged +to marry, and there are mothers who, to say the +least, do not prevent such occasions. . . And so, +as a friend, I should advise you to be more +cautious. The air of these parts is very dangerous. +How many handsome young men, worthy of a +better fate, have I not seen departing from here +straight to the altar! . . . Would you believe +me, they were even going to find a wife for me! +That is to say, one person was -- a lady belonging to +this district, who had a very pale daughter. I had +the misfortune to tell her that the latter's colour +would be restored after wedlock, and then with +tears of gratitude she offered me her daughter's +hand and the whole of her own fortune -- fifty souls,[1] I think. +But I replied that I was unfit for such an honour." + +[1] i.e. serfs. + +Werner left, fully convinced that he had put +me on my guard. + +I gathered from his words that various ugly +rumours were already being spread about the +town on the subject of Princess Mary and myself: +Grushnitski shall smart for this! + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +18th June. + +I HAVE been in Kislovodsk three days now. +Every day I see Vera at the well and out +walking. In the morning, when I awake, I sit +by my window and direct my lorgnette at her +balcony. She has already been dressed long ago, +and is waiting for the signal agreed upon. +We meet, as though unexpectedly, in the garden +which slopes down from our houses to the well. +The life-giving mountain air has brought back +her colour and her strength. Not for nothing is +Narzan called the "Spring of Heroes." The +inhabitants aver that the air of Kislovodsk pre- +disposes the heart to love and that all the romances +which have had their beginning at the foot of +Mount Mashuk find their consummation here. +And, in very fact, everything here breathes of +solitude; everything has an air of secrecy -- the +thick shadows of the linden avenues, bending over +the torrent which falls, noisy and foaming, from +flag to flag and cleaves itself a way between the +mountains now becoming clad with verdure -- +the mist-filled, silent ravines, with their rami- +fications straggling away in all directions -- the +freshness of the aromatic air, laden with the +fragrance of the tall southern grasses and the +white acacia -- the never-ceasing, sweetly-slumber- +ous babble of the cool brooks, which, meeting at +the end of the valley, flow along in friendly +emulation, and finally fling themselves into the +Podkumok. On this side, the ravine is wider +and becomes converted into a verdant dell, +through which winds the dusty road. Every +time I look at it, I seem to see a carriage coming +along and a rosy little face looking out of the +carriage-window. Many carriages have already +driven by -- but still there is no sign of that +particular one. The village which lies behind the +fortress has become populous. In the restaurant, +built upon a hill a few paces distant from my +lodgings, lights are beginning to flash in the +evening through the double row of poplars; +noise and the jingling of glasses resound till late +at night. + +In no place are such quantities of Kakhetian +wine and mineral waters drunk as here. + + + "And many are willing to mix the two, + + But that is a thing I never do." + + +Every day Grushnitski and his gang are to be +found brawling in the inn, and he has almost +ceased to greet me. + +He only arrived yesterday, and has already +succeeded in quarrelling with three old men who +were going to take their places in the baths before +him. + +Decidedly, his misfortunes are developing a +warlike spirit within him. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +22nd June. + +AT last they have arrived. I was sitting by +the window when I heard the clattering of +their carriage. My heart throbbed. . . What does +it mean? Can it be that I am in love? . . . +I am so stupidly constituted that such a thing +might be expected of me. + +I dined at their house. Princess Ligovski +looked at me with much tenderness, and did +not leave her daughter's side . . . a bad sign! +On the other hand, Vera is jealous of me in re- +gard to Princess Mary -- however, I have been +striving for that good fortune. What will not a +woman do in order to chagrin her rival? I re- +member that once a woman loved me simply +because I was in love with another woman. +There is nothing more paradoxical than the fe- +male mind; it is difficult to convince a woman +of anything; they have to be led into convincing +themselves. The order of the proofs by which +they demolish their prejudices is most original; +to learn their dialectic it is necessary to over- +throw in your own mind every scholastic rule of +logic. For example, the usual way: + +"This man loves me; but I am married: +therefore I must not love him." + +The woman's way: + +"I must not love him, because I am married; +but he loves me -- therefore" . . . + +A few dots here, because reason has no more +to say. But, generally, there is something to be +said by the tongue, and the eyes, and, after these, +the heart -- if there is such a thing. + +What if these notes should one day meet a +woman's eye? + +"Slander!" she will exclaim indignantly. + +Ever since poets have written and women have +read them (for which the poets should be most +deeply grateful) women have been called angels +so many times that, in very truth, in their sim- +plicity of soul, they have believed the compli- +ment, forgetting that, for money, the same poets +have glorified Nero as a demigod. . . + +It would be unreasonable were I to speak of +women with such malignity -- I who have loved +nothing else in the world -- I who have always +been ready to sacrifice for their sake ease, am- +bition, life itself. . . But, you see, I am not +endeavouring, in a fit of vexation and injured +vanity, to pluck from them the magic veil through +which only an accustomed glance can penetrate. +No, all that I say about them is but the result of + + + "A mind which coldly hath observed, + + A heart which bears the stamp of woe."[1] + +[1] Pushkin: Eugene Onyegin. + +Women ought to wish that all men knew them +as well as I because I have loved them a hundred +times better since I have ceased to be afraid of them +and have comprehended their little weaknesses. + +By the way: the other day, Werner compared +women to the enchanted forest of which Tasso +tells in his "Jerusalem Delivered."[2] + +"So soon as you approach," he said, "from all +directions terrors, such as I pray Heaven may +preserve us from, will take wing at you: duty, +pride, decorum, public opinion, ridicule, con- +tempt. . . You must simply go straight on +without looking at them; gradually the monsters +disappear, and, before you, opens a bright and +quiet glade, in the midst of which blooms the +green myrtle. On the other hand, woe to you if, +at the first steps, your heart trembles and you +turn back!" + +[2] Canto XVIII, 10: + + "Quinci al bosco t' invia, dove cotanti + + Son fantasmi inganne vole e bugiardi" . . . + + + +CHAPTER XV + +24th June. + +THIS evening has been fertile in events. +About three versts from Kislovodsk, in the +gorge through which the Podkumok flows, there +is a cliff called the Ring. It is a naturally formed +gate, rising upon a lofty hill, and through it the +setting sun throws its last flaming glance upon +the world. A numerous cavalcade set off thither +to gaze at the sunset through the rock-window. +To tell the truth, not one of them was thinking +about the sun. I rode beside Princess Mary. On +the way home, we had to ford the Podkumok. +Mountain streams, even the smallest, are danger- +ous; especially so, because the bottom is a perfect +kaleidoscope: it changes every day owing to the +pressure of the current; where yesterday there +was a rock, to-day there is a cavity. I took Prin- +cess Mary's horse by the bridle and led it into the +water, which came no higher than its knees. We +began to move slowly in a slanting direction +against the current. It is a well-known fact that, +in crossing rapid streamlets, you should never look +at the water, because, if you do, your head begins +to whirl directly. I forgot to warn Princess Mary +of that. + +We had reached the middle and were right in +the vortex, when suddenly she reeled in her +saddle. + +"I feel ill!" she said in a faint voice. + +I bent over to her rapidly and threw my arm +around her supple waist. + +"Look up!" I whispered. "It is nothing; +just be brave! I am with you." + +She grew better; she was about to disengage +herself from my arm, but I clasped her tender, +soft figure in a still closer embrace; my cheek +almost touched hers, from which was wafted +flame. + +"What are you doing to me? . . . Oh, +Heaven!" . . . + +I paid no attention to her alarm and confusion, +and my lips touched her tender cheek. She shud- +dered, but said nothing. We were riding behind +the others: nobody saw us. + +When we made our way out on the bank, the +horses were all put to the trot. Princess Mary +kept hers back; I remained beside her. It was +evident that my silence was making her uneasy, +but I swore to myself that I would not speak a +single word -- out of curiosity. I wanted to see +how she would extricate herself from that em- +barrassing position. + +"Either you despise me, or you love me very +much!" she said at length, and there were tears +in her voice. "Perhaps you want to laugh at me, +to excite my soul and then to abandon me. . . +That would be so base, so vile, that the mere +supposition . . . Oh, no!" she added, in a voice +of tender trustfulness; "there is nothing in me +which would preclude respect; is it not so? +Your presumptuous action . . . I must, I must +forgive you for it, because I permitted it. . . +Answer, speak, I want to hear your voice!" . . . + +There was such womanly impatience in her last +words that, involuntarily, I smiled; happily it +was beginning to grow dusk. . . I made no +answer. + +"You are silent!" she continued; "you wish, +perhaps, that I should be the first to tell you that +I love you." . . . + +I remained silent. + +"Is that what you wish?" she continued, +turning rapidly towards me. . . . There was +something terrible in the determination of her +glance and voice. + +"Why?" I answered, shrugging my shoulders. + +She struck her horse with her riding-whip and +set off at full gallop along the narrow, dangerous +road. It all happened so quickly that I was +scarcely able to overtake her, and then only by +the time she had joined the rest of the company. + +All the way home she was continually talk- +ing and laughing. There was something feverish +in her movements; not once did she look in +my direction. Everybody observed her unusual +gaiety. Princess Ligovski rejoiced inwardly as she +looked at her daughter. However, the latter +simply has a fit of nerves: she will spend a sleep- +less night, and will weep. + +This thought affords me measureless delight: +there are moments when I understand the Vam- +pire. . . And yet I am reputed to be a good +fellow, and I strive to earn that designation! + +On dismounting, the ladies went into Princess +Ligovski's house. I was excited, and I galloped +to the mountains in order to dispel the thoughts +which had thronged into my head. The dewy +evening breathed an intoxicating coolness. The +moon was rising from behind the dark summits. +Each step of my unshod horse resounded hollowly +in the silence of the gorges. I watered the horse +at the waterfall, and then, after greedily inhaling +once or twice the fresh air of the southern night, + +I set off on my way back. I rode through the +village. The lights in the windows were begin- +ning to go out; the sentries on the fortress- +rampart and the Cossacks in the surrounding +pickets were calling out in drawling tones to one +another. + +In one of the village houses, built at the edge +of a ravine, I noticed an extraordinary illumina- +tion. At times, discordant murmurs and shouting +could be heard, proving that a military carouse +was in full swing. I dismounted and crept up to +the window. The shutter had not been made +fast, and I could see the banqueters and catch +what they were saying. They were talking about +me. + +The captain of dragoons, flushed with wine, +struck the table with his fist, demanding attention. + +"Gentlemen!" he said, "this won't do! +Pechorin must be taught a lesson! These Peters- +burg fledglings always carry their heads high until +they get a slap in the face! He thinks that be- +cause he always wears clean gloves and polished +boots he is the only one who has ever lived in +society. And what a haughty smile! All the +same, I am convinced that he is a coward -- yes, a +coward!" + +"I think so too," said Grushnitski. "He is +fond of getting himself out of trouble by pre- +tending to be only having a joke. I once gave him +such a talking to that anyone else in his place +would have cut me to pieces on the spot. But +Pechorin turned it all to the ridiculous side. I, +of course, did not call him out because that was +his business, but he did not care to have anything +more to do with it." + +"Grushnitski is angry with him for having +captured Princess Mary from him," somebody +said. + +"That's a new idea! It is true I did run after +Princess Mary a little, but I left off at once be- +cause I do not want to get married; and it is +against my rules to compromise a girl." + +"Yes, I assure you that he is a coward of the +first water, I mean Pechorin, not Grushnitski -- +but Grushnitski is a fine fellow, and, besides, he +is my true friend!" the captain of dragoons +went on. + +"Gentlemen! Nobody here stands up for +him? Nobody? So much the better! Would +you like to put his courage to the test? It would +be amusing" . . . + +"We would; but how?" + +"Listen here, then: Grushnitski in particular +is angry with him -- therefore to Grushnitski falls +the chief part. He will pick a quarrel over +some silly trifle or other, and will challenge +Pechorin to a duel. . . Wait a bit; here is +where the joke comes in. . . He will challenge +him to a duel; very well! The whole proceed- +ing -- challenge, preparations, conditions -- will be +as solemn and awe-inspiring as possible -- I will +see to that. I will be your second, my poor +friend! Very well! Only here is the rub; we +will put no bullets in the pistols. I can answer +for it that Pechorin will turn coward -- I will +place them six paces apart, devil take it! Are +you agreed, gentlemen?" + +"Splendid idea! . . . Agreed! . . . And why +not?" . . . came from all sides. + +"And you, Grushnitski?" + +Tremblingly I awaited Grushnitski's answer. I +was filled with cold rage at the thought that, but +for an accident, I might have made myself the +laughing-stock of those fools. If Grushnitski had +not agreed, I should have thrown myself upon his +neck; but, after an interval of silence, he rose +from his place, extended his hand to the captain, +and said very gravely: + +"Very well, I agree!" + +It would be difficult to describe the enthusiasm +of that honourable company. + +I returned home, agitated by two different feel- +ings. The first was sorrow. + +"Why do they all hate me?" I thought -- +"why? Have I affronted anyone? No. Can it +be that I am one of those men the mere sight of +whom is enough to create animosity?" + +And I felt a venomous rage gradually filling my +soul. + +"Have a care, Mr. Grushnitski!" I said, walk- +ing up and down the room: "I am not to be +jested with like this! You may pay dearly for the +approbation of your foolish comrades. I am not +your toy!" . . . + +I got no sleep that night. By daybreak I was +as yellow as an orange. + +In the morning I met Princess Mary at the +well. + +"You are ill?" she said, looking intently at me. + +"I did not sleep last night." + +"Nor I either. . . I was accusing you . . . +perhaps groundlessly. But explain yourself, I +can forgive you everything" . . . + +"Everything?" . . . + +"Everything . . . only speak the truth . . . +and be quick. . . You see, I have been thinking +a good deal, trying to explain, to justify, your be- +haviour. Perhaps you are afraid of opposition on +the part of my relations . . . that will not +matter. When they learn" . . . + +Her voice shook. + +"I will win them over by entreaties. Or, is it +your own position? . . . But you know that I +can sacrifice everything for the sake of the man I +love. . . Oh, answer quickly -- have pity. . . +You do not despise me -- do you?" + +She seized my hand. + +Princess Ligovski was walking in front of us +with Vera's husband, and had not seen anything; +but we might have been observed by some of the +invalids who were strolling about -- the most in- +quisitive gossips of all inquisitive folk -- and I +rapidly disengaged my hand from her passionate +pressure. + +"I will tell you the whole truth," I answered. +"I will not justify myself, nor explain my ac- +tions: I do not love you." + +Her lips grew slightly pale. + +"Leave me," she said, in a scarcely audible +voice. + +I shrugged my shoulders, turned round, and +walked away. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +25th June. + +I SOMETIMES despise myself. . . Is not that +the reason why I despise others also? . . . +I have grown incapable of noble impulses; I +am afraid of appearing ridiculous to myself. In +my place, another would have offered Princess +Mary son coeur et sa fortune; but over me the +word "marry" has a kind of magical power. +However passionately I love a woman, if she only +gives me to feel that I have to marry her -- then +farewell, love! My heart is turned to stone, and +nothing will warm it anew. I am prepared for +any other sacrifice but that; my life twenty times +over, nay, my honour I would stake on the for- +tune of a card . . . but my freedom I will never +sell. Why do I prize it so highly? What is there +in it to me? For what am I preparing myself? +What do I hope for from the future? . . . In +truth, absolutely nothing. It is a kind of innate +dread, an inexplicable prejudice. . . There are +people, you know, who have an unaccountable +dread of spiders, beetles, mice. . . Shall I con- +fess it? When I was but a child, a certain old +woman told my fortune to my mother. She pre- +dicted for me death from a wicked wife. I was +profoundly struck by her words at the time: an +irresistible repugnance to marriage was born with- +in my soul. . . Meanwhile, something tells me +that her prediction will be realized; I will try, at +all events, to arrange that it shall be realized as +late in life as possible. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +26th June. + +YESTERDAY, the conjurer Apfelbaum ar- +rived here. A long placard made its appear- +ance on the door of the restaurant, informing the +most respected public that the above-mentioned +marvellous conjurer, acrobat, chemist, and opti- +cian would have the honour to give a magnificent +performance on the present day at eight o'clock +in the evening, in the saloon of the Nobles' Club +(in other words, the restaurant); tickets -- two +rubles and a half each. + +Everyone intends to go and see the marvellous +conjurer; even Princess Ligovski has taken a +ticket for herself, in spite of her daughter being +ill. + +After dinner to-day, I walked past Vera's win- +dows; she was sitting by herself on the balcony. +A note fell at my feet: + +"Come to me at ten o'clock this evening by the +large staircase. My husband has gone to Pyati- +gorsk and will not return before to-morrow morn- +ing. My servants and maids will not be at home; +I have distributed tickets to all of them, and to +the princess's servants as well. I await you; come +without fail." + +"Aha!" I said to myself, "so then it has +turned out at last as I thought it would." + +At eight o'clock I went to see the conjurer. +The public assembled before the stroke of nine. +The performance began. On the back rows of +chairs I recognized Vera's and Princess Ligovski's +menservants and maids. They were all there, +every single one. Grushnitski, with his lorgnette, +was sitting in the front row, and the conjurer +had recourse to him every time he needed a hand- +kerchief, a watch, a ring and so forth. + +For some time past, Grushnitski has ceased to +bow to me, and to-day he has looked at me rather +insolently once or twice. It will all be remem- +bered to him when we come to settle our scores. + +Before ten o'clock had struck, I stood up and +went out. + +It was dark outside, pitch dark. Cold, heavy +clouds were lying on the summit of the surround- +ing mountains, and only at rare intervals did the +dying breeze rustle the tops of the poplars which +surrounded the restaurant. People were crowd- +ing at the windows. I went down the mountain +and, turning in under the gate, I hastened my +pace. Suddenly it seemed to me that somebody +was following my steps. I stopped and looked +round. It was impossible to make out anything +in the darkness. However, out of caution, I +walked round the house, as if taking a stroll. +Passing Princess Mary's windows, I again heard +steps behind me; a man wrapped in a cloak ran +by me. That rendered me uneasy, but I crept +up to the flight of steps, and hastily mounted the +dark staircase. A door opened, and a little hand +seized mine. . . + +"Nobody has seen you?" said Vera in a +whisper, clinging to me. + +"Nobody." + +"Now do you believe that I love you? Oh! +I have long hesitated, long tortured myself. . . +But you can do anything you like with me." + +Her heart was beating violently, her hands were +cold as ice. She broke out into complaints and +jealous reproaches. She demanded that I should +confess everything to her, saying that she would +bear my faithlessness with submission, because +her sole desire was that I should be happy. I did +not quite believe that, but I calmed her with +oaths, promises and so on. + +"So you will not marry Mary? You do not +love her? . . . But she thinks. . . Do you +know, she is madly in love with you, poor +girl!" . . . + + . . . . . + +About two o'clock in the morning I opened the +window and, tying two shawls together, I let my- +self down from the upper balcony to the lower, +holding on by the pillar. A light was still burn- +ing in Princess Mary's room. Something drew +me towards that window. The curtain was not +quite drawn, and I was able to cast a curious +glance into the interior of the room. Mary was +sitting on her bed, her hands crossed upon her +knees; her thick hair was gathered up under a +lace-frilled nightcap; her white shoulders were +covered by a large crimson kerchief, and her little +feet were hidden in a pair of many-coloured +Persian slippers. She was sitting quite still, her +head sunk upon her breast; on a little table in +front of her was an open book; but her eyes, +fixed and full of inexpressible grief, seemed for +the hundredth time to be skimming the same +page whilst her thoughts were far away. + +At that moment somebody stirred behind a +shrub. I leaped from the balcony on to the +sward. An invisible hand seized me by the +shoulder. + +"Aha!" said a rough voice: "caught! . . . +I'll teach you to be entering princesses' rooms at +night!" + +"Hold him fast!" exclaimed another, spring- +ing out from a corner. + +It was Grushnitski and the captain of dragoons. + +I struck the latter on the head with my fist, +knocked him off his feet, and darted into the +bushes. All the paths of the garden which covered +the slope opposite our houses were known to me. + +"Thieves, guard!" . . . they cried. + +A gunshot rang out; a smoking wad fell almost +at my feet. + +Within a minute I was in my own room, +undressed and in bed. My manservant had only +just locked the door when Grushnitski and the +captain began knocking for admission. + +"Pechorin! Are you asleep? Are you +there?" . . . cried the captain. + +"I am in bed," I answered angrily. + +"Get up! Thieves! . . . Circassians!" . . . + +"I have a cold," I answered. "I am afraid of +catching a chill." + +They went away. I had gained no useful pur- +pose by answering them: they would have been +looking for me in the garden for another hour +or so. + +Meanwhile the alarm became terrific. A +Cossack galloped up from the fortress. The com- +motion was general; Circassians were looked for +in every shrub -- and of course none were found. +Probably, however, a good many people were left +with the firm conviction that, if only more +courage and despatch had been shown by the +garrison, at least a score of brigands would have +failed to get away with their lives. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +27th June. + +THIS morning, at the well, the sole topic of +conversation was the nocturnal attack by +the Circassians. I drank the appointed number +of glasses of Narzan water, and, after sauntering +a few times about the long linden avenue, I met +Vera's husband, who had just arrived from Pyati- +gorsk. He took my arm and we went to the +restaurant for breakfast. He was dreadfully un- +easy about his wife. + +"What a terrible fright she had last night," +he said. "Of course, it was bound to happen +just at the very time when I was absent." + +We sat down to breakfast near the door leading +into a corner-room in which about a dozen young +men were sitting. Grushnitski was amongst them. +For the second time destiny provided me with +the opportunity of overhearing a conversation +which was to decide his fate. He did not see me, +and, consequently, it was impossible for me to +suspect him of design; but that only magnified +his fault in my eyes. + +"Is it possible, though, that they were really +Circassians?" somebody said. "Did anyone see +them?" + +"I will tell you the whole truth," answered +Grushnitski: "only please do not betray me. This +is how it was: yesterday, a certain man, whose +name I will not tell you, came up to me and told +me that, at ten o'clock in the evening, he had seen +somebody creeping into the Ligovskis' house. I +must observe that Princess Ligovski was here, and +Princess Mary at home. So he and I set off to +wait beneath the windows and waylay the lucky +man." + +I confess I was frightened, although my com- +panion was very busily engaged with his break- +fast: he might have heard things which he would +have found rather displeasing, if Grushnitski had +happened to guess the truth; but, blinded by +jealousy, the latter did not even suspect it. + +"So, do you see?" Grushnitski continued. +"We set off, taking with us a gun, loaded with +blank cartridge, so as just to give him a fright. +We waited in the garden till two o'clock. At +length -- goodness knows, indeed, where he ap- +peared from, but he must have come out by the +glass door which is behind the pillar; it was not +out of the window that he came, because the +window had remained unopened -- at length, I +say, we saw someone getting down from the +balcony. . . What do you think of Princess +Mary -- eh? Well, I admit, it is hardly what you +might expect from Moscow ladies! After that +what can you believe? We were going to seize +him, but he broke away and darted like a hare +into the shrubs. Thereupon I fired at him." + +There was a general murmur of incredulity. + +"You do not believe it?" he continued. "I +give you my word of honour as a gentleman that +it is all perfectly true, and, in proof, I will tell +you the man's name if you like." + +"Tell us, tell us, who was he?" came from +all sides. + +"Pechorin," answered Grushnitski. + +At that moment he raised his eyes -- I was stand- +ing in the doorway opposite to him. He grew +terribly red. I went up to him and said, slowly +and distinctly: + +"I am very sorry that I did not come in before +you had given your word of honour in confirma- +tion of a most abominable calumny: my presence +would have saved you from that further act of +baseness." + +Grushnitski jumped up from his seat and +seemed about to fly into a passion. + +"I beg you," I continued in the same tone: +"I beg you at once to retract what you have +said; you know very well that it is all an inven- +tion. I do not think that a woman's indifference +to your brilliant merits should deserve so terrible +a revenge. Bethink you well: if you maintain +your present attitude, you will lose the right to +the name of gentleman and will risk your +life." + +Grushnitski stood before me in violent agita- +tion, his eyes cast down. But the struggle be- +tween his conscience and his vanity was of short +duration. The captain of dragoons, who was sit- +ting beside him, nudged him with his elbow. +Grushnitski started, and answered rapidly, with- +out raising his eyes: + +"My dear sir, what I say, I mean, and I am +prepared to repeat. . . I am not afraid of your +menaces and am ready for anything." + +"The latter you have already proved," I an- +swered coldly; and, taking the captain of dra- +goons by the arm, I left the room. + +"What do you want?" asked the captain. + +"You are Grushnitski's friend and will no +doubt be his second?" + +The captain bowed very gravely. + +"You have guessed rightly," he answered. + +"Moreover, I am bound to be his second, because +the insult offered to him touches myself also. I +was with him last night," he added, straightening +up his stooping figure. + +"Ah! So it was you whose head I struck so +clumsily?" . . . + +He turned yellow in the face, then blue; sup- +pressed rage was portrayed upon his counte- +nance. + +"I shall have the honour to send my second to +you to-day," I added, bowing adieu to him very +politely, without appearing to have noticed his +fury. + +On the restaurant-steps I met Vera's husband. +Apparently he had been waiting for me. + +He seized my hand with a feeling akin to +rapture. + +"Noble young man!" he said, with tears in his +eyes. "I have heard everything. What a scoun- +drel! Ingrate! . . . Just fancy such people +being admitted into a decent household after +this! Thank God I have no daughters! But she +for whom you are risking your life will reward +you. Be assured of my constant discretion," he +continued. "I have been young myself and +have served in the army: I know that these +affairs must take their course. Good-bye." + +Poor fellow! He is glad that he has no +daughters! . . . + +I went straight to Werner, found him at home, +and told him the whole story -- my relations with +Vera and Princess Mary, and the conversation +which I had overheard and from which I had +learned the intention of these gentlemen to make +a fool of me by causing me to fight a duel with +blank cartridges. But, now, the affair had gone +beyond the bounds of jest; they probably had +not expected that it would turn out like this. + +The doctor consented to be my second; I gave +him a few directions with regard to the condi- +tions of the duel. He was to insist upon the +affair being managed with all possible secrecy, be- +cause, although I am prepared, at any moment, +to face death, I am not in the least disposed to +spoil for all time my future in this world. + +After that I went home. In an hour's time the +doctor returned from his expedition. + +"There is indeed a conspiracy against you," he +said. "I found the captain of dragoons at Grush- +nitski's, together with another gentleman whose +surname I do not remember. I stopped a moment +in the ante-room, in order to take off my goloshes. +They were squabbling and making a terrible up- +roar. 'On no account will I agree,' Grushnitski +was saying: 'he has insulted me publicly; it was +quite a different thing before' . . . + +"'What does it matter to you?' answered the +captain. 'I will take it all upon myself. I have +been second in five duels, and I should think I +know how to arrange the affair. I have thought +it all out. Just let me alone, please. It is not a +bad thing to give people a bit of a fright. And +why expose yourself to danger if it is possible to +avoid it?' . . . + +"At that moment I entered the room. They +suddenly fell silent. Our negotiations were some- +what protracted. At length we decided the +matter as follows: about five versts from here +there is a hollow gorge; they will ride thither to- +morrow at four o'clock in the morning, and we +shall leave half an hour later. You will fire at six +paces -- Grushnitski himself demanded that con- +dition. Whichever of you is killed -- his death +will be put down to the account of the Circas- +sians. And now I must tell you what I suspect: +they, that is to say the seconds, may have made +some change in their former plan and may want +to load only Grushnitski's pistol. That is some- +thing like murder, but in time of war, and espe- +cially in Asiatic warfare, such tricks are allowed. +Grushnitski, however, seems to be a little more +magnanimous than his companions. What do you +think? Ought we not to let them see that we +have guessed their plan?" + +"Not on any account, doctor! Make your +mind easy; I will not give in to them." + +"But what are you going to do, then?" + +"That is my secret." + +"Mind you are not caught . . . six paces, you +know!" + +"Doctor, I shall expect you to-morrow at four +o'clock. The horses will be ready . . . Good- +bye." + +I remained in the house until the evening, with +my door locked. A manservant came to invite me +to Princess Ligovski's -- I bade him say that I +was ill. + + . . . . . + +Two o'clock in the morning. . . I cannot +sleep. . . Yet sleep is what I need, if I am to +have a steady hand to-morrow. However, at six +paces it is difficult to miss. Aha! Mr. Grushnit- +ski, your wiles will not succeed! . . . We shall +exchange roles: now it is I who shall have to +seek the signs of latent terror upon your pallid +countenance. Why have you yourself appointed +these fatal six paces? Think you that I will +tamely expose my forehead to your aim? . . . + +No, we shall cast lots. . . And then -- then -- +what if his luck should prevail? If my star at +length should betray me? . . . And little wonder +if it did: it has so long and faithfully served +my caprices. + +Well? If I must die, I must! The loss to the +world will not be great; and I myself am already +downright weary of everything. I am like a guest +at a ball, who yawns but does not go home to bed, +simply because his carriage has not come for him. +But now the carriage is here. . . Good-bye! . . . + +My whole past life I live again in memory, and, +involuntarily, I ask myself: 'why have I lived -- +for what purpose was I born?' . . . A purpose +there must have been, and, surely, mine was an +exalted destiny, because I feel that within my +soul are powers immeasurable. . . But I was +not able to discover that destiny, I allowed myself +to be carried away by the allurements of passions, +inane and ignoble. From their crucible I issued +hard and cold as iron, but gone for ever was the +glow of noble aspirations -- the fairest flower of +life. And, from that time forth, how often have +I not played the part of an axe in the hands of +fate! Like an implement of punishment, I have +fallen upon the head of doomed victims, often +without malice, always without pity. . . To none +has my love brought happiness, because I have +never sacrificed anything for the sake of those +I have loved: for myself alone I have loved -- +for my own pleasure. I have only satisfied the +strange craving of my heart, greedily draining +their feelings, their tenderness, their joys, their +sufferings -- and I have never been able to sate +myself. I am like one who, spent with hunger, +falls asleep in exhaustion and sees before him +sumptuous viands and sparkling wines; he de- +vours with rapture the aerial gifts of the imagina- +tion, and his pains seem somewhat assuaged. Let +him but awake: the vision vanishes -- twofold +hunger and despair remain! + +And to-morrow, it may be, I shall die! . . . +And there will not be left on earth one being who +has understood me completely. Some will con- +sider me worse, others, better, than I have been +in reality. . . Some will say: 'he was a good +fellow'; others: 'a villain.' And both epithets +will be false. After all this, is life worth the +trouble? And yet we live -- out of curiosity! +We expect something new. . . How absurd, +and yet how vexatious! + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +IT is now a month and a half since I have +been in the N---- Fortress. + +Maksim Maksimych is out hunting. . . I am +alone. I am sitting by the window. Grey clouds +have covered the mountains to the foot; the sun +appears through the mist as a yellow spot. It +is cold; the wind is whistling and rocking the +shutters. . . I am bored! . . . I will continue +my diary which has been interrupted by so many +strange events. + +I read the last page over: how ridiculous it +seems! . . . I thought to die; it was not to be. +I have not yet drained the cup of suffering, and +now I feel that I still have long to live. + +How clearly and how sharply have all these +bygone events been stamped upon my memory! +Time has not effaced a single line, a single +shade. + +I remember that during the night preceding +the duel I did not sleep a single moment. I was +not able to write for long: a secret uneasiness +took possession of me. For about an hour I paced +the room, then I sat down and opened a novel by +Walter Scott which was lying on my table. It +was "The Scottish Puritans."[1] At first I read +with an effort; then, carried away by the +magical fiction, I became oblivious of every- +thing else. + + +[1] None of the Waverley novels, of course, bears this title. +The novel referred to is doubtless "Old Mortality," on which +Bellini's opera, "I Puritani di Scozia," is founded. + + +At last day broke. My nerves became com- +posed. I looked in the glass: a dull pallor covered +my face, which preserved the traces of harassing +sleeplessness; but my eyes, although encircled +by a brownish shadow, glittered proudly and +inexorably. I was satisfied with myself. + +I ordered the horses to be saddled, dressed my- +self, and ran down to the baths. Plunging into +the cold, sparkling water of the Narzan Spring, I +felt my bodily and mental powers returning. I +left the baths as fresh and hearty as if I was off +to a ball. After that, who shall say that the +soul is not dependent upon the body! . . . + +On my return, I found the doctor at my rooms. +He was wearing grey riding-breeches, a jacket +and a Circassian cap. I burst out laughing when +I saw that little figure under the enormous shaggy +cap. Werner has a by no means warlike counte- +nance, and on that occasion it was even longer +than usual. + +"Why so sad, doctor?" I said to him. "Have +you not a hundred times, with the greatest +indifference, escorted people to the other world? +Imagine that I have a bilious fever: I may get +well; also, I may die; both are in the usual +course of things. Try to look on me as a patient, +afflicted with an illness with which you are still +unfamiliar -- and then your curiosity will be +aroused in the highest degree. You can now make +a few important physiological observations upon +me. . . Is not the expectation of a violent death +itself a real illness?" + +The doctor was struck by that idea, and he +brightened up. + +We mounted our horses. Werner clung on to +his bridle with both hands, and we set off. In a +trice we had galloped past the fortress, through +the village, and had ridden into the gorge. Our +winding road was half-overgrown with tall grass +and was intersected every moment by a noisy +brook, which we had to ford, to the great despair +of the doctor, because each time his horse would +stop in the water. + +A morning more fresh and blue I cannot +remember! The sun had scarce shown his face +from behind the green summits, and the blending +of the first warmth of his rays with the dying +coolness of the night produced on all my feelings +a sort of sweet languor. The joyous beam of the +young day had not yet penetrated the gorge; it +gilded only the tops of the cliffs which overhung +us on both sides. The tufted shrubs, growing in +the deep crevices of the cliffs, besprinkled us with +a silver shower at the least breath of wind. I +remember that on that occasion I loved Nature +more than ever before. With what curiosity did +I examine every dewdrop trembling upon the +broad vine leaf and reflecting millions of rainbow- +hued rays! How eagerly did my glance en- +deavour to penetrate the smoky distance! There +the road grew narrower and narrower, the cliffs +bluer and more dreadful, and at last they met, it +seemed, in an impenetrable wall. + +We rode in silence. + +"Have you made your will?" Werner suddenly +inquired. + +"No." + +"And if you are killed?" + +"My heirs will be found of themselves." + +"Is it possible that you have no friends, to +whom you would like to send a last farewell?" . . . + +I shook my head. + +"Is there, really, not one woman in the world +to whom you would like to leave some token +in remembrance?" . . . + +"Do you want me to reveal my soul to you, +doctor?" I answered. . . "You see, I have +outlived the years when people die with the name +of the beloved on their lips and bequeathing to a +friend a lock of pomaded -- or unpomaded -- hair. +When I think that death may be near, I think of +myself alone; others do not even do as much. +The friends who to-morrow will forget me or, +worse, will utter goodness knows what falsehoods +about me; the women who, while embracing +another, will laugh at me in order not to arouse +his jealousy of the deceased -- let them go! Out +of the storm of life I have borne away only a +few ideas -- and not one feeling. For a long time +now I have been living, not with my heart, but +with my head. I weigh, analyse my own passions +and actions with severe curiosity, but without +sympathy. There are two personalities within +me: one lives -- in the complete sense of the +word -- the other reflects and judges him; the +first, it may be, in an hour's time, will take fare- +well of you and the world for ever, and the second +-- the second? . . . Look, doctor, do you see those +three black figures on the cliff, to the right? +They are our antagonists, I suppose?" . . . + +We pushed on. + +In the bushes at the foot of the cliff three +horses were tethered; we tethered ours there +too, and then we clambered up the narrow path +to the ledge on which Grushnitski was awaiting +us in company with the captain of dragoons and +his other second, whom they called Ivan Ignate- +vich. His surname I never heard. + +"We have been expecting you for quite a long +time," said the captain of dragoons, with an +ironical smile. + +I drew out my watch and showed him the +time. + +He apologized, saying that his watch was +fast. + +There was an embarrassing silence for a +few moments. At length the doctor inter- +rupted it. + +"It seems to me," he said, turning to Grush- +nitski, "that as you have both shown your readi- +ness to fight, and thereby paid the debt due to +the conditions of honour, you might be able to +come to an explanation and finish the affair +amicably." + +"I am ready," I said. + +The captain winked to Grushnitski, and the +latter, thinking that I was losing courage, assumed +a haughty air, although, until that moment, his +cheeks had been covered with a dull pallor. For +the first time since our arrival he lifted his eyes +on me; but in his glance there was a certain +disquietude which evinced an inward struggle. + +"Declare your conditions," he said, "and +anything I can do for you, be assured" . . . + +"These are my conditions: you will this very +day publicly recant your slander and beg my +pardon" . . . + +"My dear sir, I wonder how you dare make such +a proposal to me?" + +"What else could I propose?" . . . + +"We will fight." + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"Be it so; only, bethink you that one of us +will infallibly be killed." + +"I hope it will be you" . . . + +"And I am so convinced of the contrary" . . . + +He became confused, turned red, and then +burst out into a forced laugh. + +The captain took his arm and led him aside; +they whispered together for a long time. I had +arrived in a fairly pacific frame of mind, but all +this was beginning to drive me furious. + +The doctor came up to me. + +"Listen," he said, with manifest uneasiness, +"you have surely forgotten their conspiracy! . . . +I do not know how to load a pistol, but in +this case. . . You are a strange man! Tell +them that you know their intention -- and they +will not dare. . . What sport! To shoot you +like a bird" . . . + +"Please do not be uneasy, doctor, and wait +awhile. . . I shall arrange everything in such a +way that there will be no advantage on their side. +Let them whisper" . . . + +"Gentlemen, this is becoming tedious," I said +to them loudly: "if we are to fight, let us fight; +you had time yesterday to talk as much as you +wanted to." + +"We are ready," answered the captain. "Take +your places, gentlemen! Doctor, be good enough +to measure six paces" . . . + +"Take your places!" repeated Ivan Ignatevich, +in a squeaky voice. + +"Excuse me!" I said. "One further con- +dition. As we are going to fight to the death, we +are bound to do everything possible in order that +the affair may remain a secret, and that our +seconds may incur no responsibility. Do you +agree?" . . . + +"Quite." + +"Well, then, this is my idea. Do you see that +narrow ledge on the top of the perpendicular +cliff on the right? It must be thirty fathoms, if +not more, from there to the bottom; and, down +below, there are sharp rocks. Each of us will +stand right at the extremity of the ledge -- in such +manner even a slight wound will be mortal: that +ought to be in accordance with your desire, as +you yourselves have fixed upon six paces. Which- +ever of us is wounded will be certain to fall +down and be dashed to pieces; the doctor +will extract the bullet, and, then, it will be +possible very easily to account for that sudden +death by saying it was the result of a fall. Let +us cast lots to decide who shall fire first. In +conclusion, I declare that I will not fight on any +other terms." + +"Be it so!" said the captain after an expres- +sive glance at Grushnitski, who nodded his head +in token of assent. Every moment he was +changing countenance. I had placed him in an +embarrassing position. Had the duel been fought +upon the usual conditions, he could have aimed +at my leg, wounded me slightly, and in such wise +gratified his vengeance without overburdening +his conscience. But now he was obliged to fire in +the air, or to make himself an assassin, or, finally, +to abandon his base plan and to expose himself to +equal danger with me. I should not have liked +to be in his place at that moment. He took the +captain aside and said something to him with +great warmth. His lips were blue, and I saw +them trembling; but the captain turned away +from him with a contemptuous smile. + +"You are a fool," he said to Grushnitski rather +loudly. "You can't understand a thing! . . . +Let us be off, then, gentlemen!" + +The precipice was approached by a narrow +path between bushes, and fragments of rock +formed the precarious steps of that natural stair- +case. Clinging to the bushes we proceeded to +clamber up. Grushnitski went in front, his +seconds behind him, and then the doctor +and I. + +"I am surprised at you," said the doctor, +pressing my hand vigorously. "Let me feel your +pulse! . . . Oho! Feverish! . . . But nothing +noticeable on your countenance . . . only +your eyes are gleaming more brightly than +usual." + +Suddenly small stones rolled noisily right +under our feet. What was it? Grushnitski had +stumbled; the branch to which he was clinging +had broken off, and he would have rolled +down on his back if his seconds had not held +him up. + +"Take care!" I cried. "Do not fall pre- +maturely: that is a bad sign. Remember Julius +Caesar!" + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AND now we had climbed to the summit of +the projecting cliff. The ledge was covered +with fine sand, as if on purpose for a duel. +All around, like an innumerable herd, crowded +the mountains, their summits lost to view in +the golden mist of the morning; and towards the +south rose the white mass of Elbruz, closing the +chain of icy peaks, among which fibrous clouds, +which had rushed in from the east, were already +roaming. I walked to the extremity of the ledge +and gazed down. My head nearly swam. At the +foot of the precipice all seemed dark and cold as +in a tomb; the moss-grown jags of the rocks, +hurled down by storm and time, were awaiting +their prey. + +The ledge on which we were to fight formed +an almost regular triangle. Six paces were mea- +sured from the projecting corner, and it was de- +cided that whichever had first to meet the fire of +his opponent should stand in the very corner with +his back to the precipice; if he was not killed +the adversaries would change places. + +I determined to relinquish every advantage to +Grushnitski; I wanted to test him. A spark of +magnanimity might awake in his soul -- and then +all would have been settled for the best. But his +vanity and weakness of character had perforce to +triumph! . . . I wished to give myself the full +right to refrain from sparing him if destiny were +to favour me. Who would not have concluded +such an agreement with his conscience? + +"Cast the lot, doctor!" said the captain. + +The doctor drew a silver coin from his pocket +and held it up. + +"Tail!" cried Grushnitski hurriedly, like a +man suddenly aroused by a friendly nudge. + +"Head," I said. + +The coin spun in the air and fell, jingling. We +all rushed towards it. + +"You are lucky," I said to Grushnitski. "You +are to fire first! But remember that if you do +not kill me I shall not miss -- I give you my word +of honour." + +He flushed up; he was ashamed to kill an un- +armed man. I looked at him fixedly; for a +moment it seemed to me that he would throw +himself at my feet, imploring forgiveness; but +how to confess so base a plot? . . . One expe- +dient only was left to him -- to fire in the air! I +was convinced that he would fire in the air! One +consideration alone might prevent him doing so -- +the thought that I would demand a second +duel. + +"Now is the time!" the doctor whispered to +me, plucking me by the sleeve. "If you do not +tell them now that we know their intentions, all +is lost. Look, he is loading already. . . If you +will not say anything, I will" . . . + +"On no account, doctor!" I answered, hold- +ing him back by the arm. "You will spoil every- +thing. You have given me your word not to +interfere. . . What does it matter to you? +Perhaps I wish to be killed" . . . + +He looked at me in astonishment. + +"Oh, that is another thing! . . . Only do not +complain of me in the other world" . . . + +Meanwhile the captain had loaded his pistols +and given one to Grushnitski, after whispering +something to him with a smile; the other he gave +to me. + +I placed myself in the corner of the ledge, plant- +ing my left foot firmly against the rock and bend- +ing slightly forward, so that, in case of a slight +wound, I might not fall over backwards. + +Grushnitski placed himself opposite me and, at +a given signal, began to raise his pistol. His knees +shook. He aimed right at my forehead. . . Un- +utterable fury began to seethe within my +breast. + +Suddenly he dropped the muzzle of the pistol +and, pale as a sheet, turned to his second. + +"I cannot," he said in a hollow voice. + +"Coward!" answered the captain. + +A shot rang out. The bullet grazed my knee. +Involuntarily I took a few paces forward in +order to get away from the edge as quickly as +possible. + +"Well, my dear Grushnitski, it is a pity that +you have missed!" said the captain. "Now it is +your turn, take your stand! Embrace me first: +we shall not see each other again!" + +They embraced; the captain could scarcely re- +frain from laughing. + +"Do not be afraid," he added, glancing cun- +ningly at Grushnitski; "everything in this world +is nonsense. . . Nature is a fool, fate a turkey- +hen, and life a copeck!"[1] + +[1] Popular phrases, equivalent to: "Men are fools, fortune +is blind, and life is not worth a straw." + + +After that tragic phrase, uttered with becoming +gravity, he went back to his place. Ivan Ignate- +vich, with tears, also embraced Grushnitski, and +there the latter remained alone, facing me. Ever +since then, I have been trying to explain to myself +what sort of feeling it was that was boiling within +my breast at that moment: it was the vexation +of injured vanity, and contempt, and wrath en- +gendered at the thought that the man now look- +ing at me with such confidence, such quiet inso- +lence, had, two minutes before, been about to kill +me like a dog, without exposing himself to the +least danger, because had I been wounded a little +more severely in the leg I should inevitably have +fallen over the cliff. + +For a few moments I looked him fixedly in the +face, trying to discern thereon even a slight trace +of repentance. But it seemed to me that he was +restraining a smile. + +"I should advise you to say a prayer before you +die," I said. + +"Do not worry about my soul any more than +your own. One thing I beg of you: be quick +about firing." + +"And you do not recant your slander? You +do not beg my forgiveness? . . . Bethink you +well: has your conscience nothing to say to +you?" + +"Mr. Pechorin!" exclaimed the captain of +dragoons. "Allow me to point out that you are +not here to preach. . . Let us lose no time, in +case anyone should ride through the gorge and +we should be seen." + +"Very well. Doctor, come here!" + +The doctor came up to me. Poor doctor! He +was paler than Grushnitski had been ten minutes +before. + +The words which followed I purposely pro- +nounced with a pause between each -- loudly +and distinctly, as the sentence of death is pro- +nounced: + +"Doctor, these gentlemen have forgotten, in +their hurry, no doubt, to put a bullet in +my pistol. I beg you to load it afresh -- and +properly!" + +"Impossible!" cried the captain, "impossible! +I loaded both pistols. Perhaps the bullet has +rolled out of yours. . . That is not my fault! +And you have no right to load again. . . No +right at all. It is altogether against the rules, +I shall not allow it" . . . + +"Very well!" I said to the captain. "If so, +then you and I shall fight on the same terms" . . . + +He came to a dead stop. + +Grushnitski stood with his head sunk on his +breast, embarrassed and gloomy. + +"Let them be!" he said at length to the cap- +tain, who was going to pull my pistol out of the +doctor's hands. "You know yourself that they +are right." + +In vain the captain made various signs to him. +Grushnitski would not even look. + +Meanwhile the doctor had loaded the pistol and +handed it to me. On seeing that, the captain spat +and stamped his foot. + +"You are a fool, then, my friend," he said: "a +common fool! . . . You trusted to me before, so +you should obey me in everything now. . . But +serve you right! Die like a fly!" . . . + +He turned away, muttering as he went: + +"But all the same it is absolutely against the +rules." + +"Grushnitski!" I said. "There is still time: +recant your slander, and I will forgive you every- +thing. You have not succeeded in making a fool +of me; my self-esteem is satisfied. Remem- +ber -- we were once friends" . . . + +His face flamed, his eyes flashed. + +"Fire!" he answered. "I despise myself and +I hate you. If you do not kill me I will lie in +wait for you some night and cut your throat. +There is not room on the earth for both of +us" . . . + +I fired. + +When the smoke had cleared away, Grushnitski +was not to be seen on the ledge. Only a slender +column of dust was still eddying at the edge of +the precipice. + +There was a simultaneous cry from the rest. + +"Finita la commedia!" I said to the doctor. + +He made no answer, and turned away with +horror. + +I shrugged my shoulders and bowed to Grush- +nitski's seconds. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AS I descended by the path, I observed Grush- +nitski's bloodstained corpse between the +clefts of the rocks. Involuntarily, I closed my +eyes. + +Untying my horse, I set off home at a walking +pace. A stone lay upon my heart. To my eyes +the sun seemed dim, its beams were powerless to +warm me. + +I did not ride up to the village, but turned to +the right, along the gorge. The sight of a man +would have been painful to me: I wanted to be +alone. Throwing down the bridle and letting my +head fall on my breast, I rode for a long time, and +at length found myself in a spot with which I was +wholly unfamiliar. I turned my horse back and +began to search for the road. The sun had al- +ready set by the time I had ridden up to Kislo- +vodsk -- myself and my horse both utterly spent! + +My servant told me that Werner had called, +and he handed me two notes: one from Werner, +the other . . . from Vera. + +I opened the first; its contents were as follows: + +"Everything has been arranged as well as could +be; the mutilated body has been brought in; +and the bullet extracted from the breast. Every- +body is convinced that the cause of death was an +unfortunate accident; only the Commandant, +who was doubtless aware of your quarrel, shook +his head, but he said nothing. There are no +proofs at all against you, and you may sleep in +peace . . . if you can. . . . Farewell!" . . . + +For a long time I could not make up my mind +to open the second note. . . What could it be +that she was writing to me? . . . My soul was +agitated by a painful foreboding. + +Here it is, that letter, each word of which is +indelibly engraved upon my memory: + +"I am writing to you in the full assurance that +we shall never see each other again. A few years +ago on parting with you I thought the same. +However, it has been Heaven's will to try me a +second time: I have not been able to endure the +trial, my frail heart has again submitted to the +well-known voice. . . You will not despise me +for that -- will you? This letter will be at once a +farewell and a confession: I am obliged to tell +you everything that has been treasured up in my +heart since it began to love you. I will not accuse +you -- you have acted towards me as any other +man would have acted; you have loved me as a +chattel, as a source of joys, disquietudes and +griefs, interchanging one with the other, without +which life would be dull and monotonous. I +have understood all that from the first. . . But +you were unhappy, and I have sacrificed myself, +hoping that, some time, you would appreciate my +sacrifice, that some time you would understand +my deep tenderness, unfettered by any condi- +tions. A long time has elapsed since then: I +have fathomed all the secrets of your soul. . . +and I have convinced myself that my hope was +vain. It has been a bitter blow to me! But my +love has been grafted with my soul; it has grown +dark, but has not been extinguished. + +"We are parting for ever; yet you may be +sure that I shall never love another. Upon you +my soul has exhausted all its treasures, its tears, +its hopes. She who has once loved you cannot +look without a certain disdain upon other men, +not because you have been better than they, oh, +no! but in your nature there is something pecu- +liar -- belonging to you alone, something proud +and mysterious; in your voice, whatever the +words spoken, there is an invincible power. No +one can so constantly wish to be loved, in no one +is wickedness ever so attractive, no one's glance +promises so much bliss, no one can better make +use of his advantages, and no one can be so truly +unhappy as you, because no one endeavours so +earnestly to convince himself of the contrary. + +"Now I must explain the cause of my hurried +departure; it will seem of little importance to +you, because it concerns me alone. + +"This morning my husband came in and told +me about your quarrel with Grushnitski. Evi- +dently I changed countenance greatly, because he +looked me in the face long and intently. I almost +fainted at the thought that you had to fight a +duel to-day, and that I was the cause of it; it +seemed to me that I should go mad. . . But +now, when I am able to reason, I am sure that +you remain alive: it is impossible that you should +die, and I not with you -- impossible! My hus- +band walked about the room for a long time. I +do not know what he said to me, I do not remem- +ber what I answered. . . Most likely I told him +that I loved you. . . I only remember that, at +the end of our conversation, he insulted me with +a dreadful word and left the room. I heard him +ordering the carriage. . . I have been sitting at +the window three hours now, awaiting your re- +turn. . . But you are alive, you cannot have +died! . . . The carriage is almost ready. . . +Good-bye, good-bye! . . . I have perished -- but +what matter? If I could be sure that you will +always remember me -- I no longer say love -- no, +only remember . . . Good-bye, they are com- +ing! . . . I must hide this letter. + +"You do not love Mary, do you? You will +not marry her? Listen, you must offer me that +sacrifice. I have lost everything in the world for +you" . . . + +Like a madman I sprang on the steps, jumped +on my Circassian horse which was being led about +the courtyard, and set off at full gallop along the +road to Pyatigorsk. Unsparingly I urged on the +jaded horse, which, snorting and all in a foam, +carried me swiftly along the rocky road. + +The sun had already disappeared behind a black +cloud, which had been resting on the ridge of the +western mountains; the gorge grew dark and +damp. The Podkumok, forcing its way over the +rocks, roared with a hollow and monotonous +sound. I galloped on, choking with impatience. +The idea of not finding Vera in Pyatigorsk struck +my heart like a hammer. For one minute, again +to see her for one minute, to say farewell, to +press her hand. . . I prayed, cursed, wept, +laughed. . . No, nothing could express my +anxiety, my despair! . . . Now that it seemed +possible that I might be about to lose her for ever, +Vera became dearer to me than aught in the +world -- dearer than life, honour, happiness! God +knows what strange, what mad plans swarmed in +my head. . . Meanwhile I still galloped, urging +on my horse without pity. And, now, I began to +notice that he was breathing more heavily; he +had already stumbled once or twice on level +ground. . . I was five versts from Essentuki -- +a Cossack village where I could change horses. + +All would have been saved had my horse been +able to hold out for another ten minutes. But +suddenly, in lifting himself out of a little gulley +where the road emerges from the mountains at a +sharp turn, he fell to the ground. I jumped down +promptly, I tried to lift him up, I tugged at his +bridle -- in vain. A scarcely audible moan burst +through his clenched teeth; in a few moments +he expired. I was left on the steppe, alone; I +had lost my last hope. I endeavoured to walk -- +my legs sank under me; exhausted by the +anxieties of the day and by sleeplessness, I fell +upon the wet grass and burst out crying like a +child. + +For a long time I lay motionless and wept +bitterly, without attempting to restrain my tears +and sobs. I thought my breast would burst. All +my firmness, all my coolness, disappeared like +smoke; my soul grew powerless, my reason silent, +and, if anyone had seen me at that moment, he +would have turned aside with contempt. + +When the night-dew and the mountain breeze +had cooled my burning brow, and my thoughts +had resumed their usual course, I realized that to +pursue my perished happiness would be unavail- +ing and unreasonable. What more did I want? -- +To see her? -- Why? Was not all over between +us? A single, bitter, farewell kiss would not have +enriched my recollections, and, after it, parting +would only have been more difficult for us. + +Still, I am pleased that I can weep. Perhaps, +however, the cause of that was my shattered +nerves, a night passed without sleep, two minutes +opposite the muzzle of a pistol, and an empty +stomach. + +It is all for the best. That new suffering +created within me a fortunate diversion -- to speak +in military style. To weep is healthy, and then, +no doubt, if I had not ridden as I did and had +not been obliged to walk fifteen versts on my way +back, sleep would not have closed my eyes on that +night either. + +I returned to Kislovodsk at five o'clock in the +morning, threw myself on my bed, and slept the +sleep of Napoleon after Waterloo. + +By the time I awoke it was dark outside. I sat by +the open window, with my jacket unbuttoned -- +and the mountain breeze cooled my breast, still +troubled by the heavy sleep of weariness. In +the distance beyond the river, through the tops +of the thick lime trees which overshadowed it, +lights were glancing in the fortress and the vil- +lage. Close at hand all was calm. It was dark in +Princess Ligovski's house. + +The doctor entered; his brows were knit; +contrary to custom, he did not offer me his +hand. + +"Where have you come from, doctor?" + +"From Princess Ligovski's; her daughter is +ill -- nervous exhaustion. . . That is not the +point, though. This is what I have come to tell +you: the authorities are suspicious, and, although +it is impossible to prove anything positively, I +should, all the same, advise you to be cautious. +Princess Ligovski told me to-day that she knew +that you fought a duel on her daughter's account. +That little old man -- what's his name? -- has +told her everything. He was a witness of +your quarrel with Grushnitski in the restaurant. +I have come to warn you. Good-bye. Maybe +we shall not meet again: you will be banished +somewhere." + +He stopped on the threshold; he would gladly +have pressed my hand . . . and, had I shown the +slightest desire to embrace him, he would have +thrown himself upon my neck; but I remained +cold as a rock -- and he left the room. + +That is just like men! They are all the same: +they know beforehand all the bad points of an +act, they help, they advise, they even encourage it, +seeing the impossibility of any other expedient -- +and then they wash their hands of the whole +affair and turn away with indignation from him +who has had the courage to take the whole burden +of responsibility upon himself. They are all like +that, even the best-natured, the wisest. . . + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +NEXT morning, having received orders from +the supreme authority to betake myself to +the N---- Fortress, I called upon Princess Ligov- +ski to say good-bye. + +She was surprised when, in answer to her ques- +tion, whether I had not anything of special im- +portance to tell her, I said I had come to wish her +good-bye, and so on. + +"But I must have a very serious talk with you." + +I sat down in silence. + +It was clear that she did not know how to +begin; her face grew livid, she tapped the table +with her plump fingers; at length, in a broken +voice, she said: + +"Listen, Monsieur Pechorin, I think that you +are a gentleman." + +I bowed. + +"Nay, I am sure of it," she continued, "al- +though your behaviour is somewhat equivocal, +but you may have reasons which I do not know; +and you must now confide them to me. You have +protected my daughter from slander, you have +fought a duel on her behalf -- consequently you +have risked your life. . . Do not answer. I +know that you will not acknowledge it because +Grushnitski has been killed" -- she crossed herself. +"God forgive him -- and you too, I hope. . . +That does not concern me. . . I dare not con- +demn you because my daughter, although inno- +cently, has been the cause. She has told me +everything . . . everything, I think. You have +declared your love for her. . . She has admitted +hers to you." -- Here Princess Ligovski sighed +heavily. -- "But she is ill, and I am certain that +it is no simple illness! Secret grief is killing her; +she will not confess, but I am convinced that you +are the cause of it. . . Listen: you think, per- +haps, that I am looking for rank or immense +wealth -- be undeceived, my daughter's happiness +is my sole desire. Your present position is un- +enviable, but it may be bettered: you have +means; my daughter loves you; she has been +brought up in such a way that she will make her +husband a happy man. I am wealthy, she is my +only child. . . Tell me, what is keeping you +back? . . . You see, I ought not to be saying all +this to you, but I rely upon your heart, upon your +honour -- remember she is my only daughter . . . +my only one" . . . + +She burst into tears. + +"Princess," I said, "it is impossible for me to +answer you; allow me to speak to your daughter, +alone" . . . + +"Never!" she exclaimed, rising from her +chair in violent agitation. + +"As you wish," I answered, preparing to go +away. + +She fell into thought, made a sign to me with +her hand that I should wait a little, and left the +room. + +Five minutes passed. My heart was beating +violently, but my thoughts were tranquil, my +head cool. However assiduously I sought in my +breast for even a spark of love for the charming +Mary, my efforts were of no avail! + +Then the door opened, and she entered. +Heavens! How she had changed since I had last +seen her -- and that but a short time ago! + +When she reached the middle of the room, she +staggered. I jumped up, gave her my arm, and +led her to a chair. + +I stood facing her. We remained silent for a +long time; her large eyes, full of unutterable +grief, seemed to be searching in mine for some- +thing resembling hope; her wan lips vainly en- +deavoured to smile; her tender hands, which +were folded upon her knees, were so thin and +transparent that I pitied her. + +"Princess," I said, "you know that I have +been making fun of you? . . . You must despise +me." + +A sickly flush suffused her cheeks. + +"Consequently," I continued, "you cannot +love me" . . . + +She turned her head away, leaned her elbows +on the table, covered her eyes with her hand, and +it seemed to me that she was on the point of +tears. + +"Oh, God!" she said, almost inaudibly. + +The situation was growing intolerable. Another +minute -- and I should have fallen at her feet. + +"So you see, yourself," I said in as firm a voice +as I could command, and with a forced smile, +"you see, yourself, that I cannot marry you. +Even if you wished it now, you would soon repent. +My conversation with your mother has compelled +me to explain myself to you so frankly and so +brutally. I hope that she is under a delusion: it +will be easy for you to undeceive her. You see, I +am playing a most pitiful and ugly role in your +eyes, and I even admit it -- that is the utmost I +can do for your sake. However bad an opinion +you may entertain of me, I submit to it. . . You +see that I am base in your sight, am I not? . . . +Is it not true that, even if you have loved me, you +would despise me from this moment?" . . . + +She turned round to me. She was pale as +marble, but her eyes were sparkling wondrously. + +"I hate you" . . . she said. + +I thanked her, bowed respectfully, and left the +room. + +An hour afterwards a postal express was bearing +me rapidly from Kislovodsk. A few versts from +Essentuki I recognized near the roadway the body +of my spirited horse. The saddle had been taken +off, no doubt by a passing Cossack, and, in its +place, two ravens were sitting on the horse's back. +I sighed and turned away. . . + +And now, here in this wearisome fortress, I +often ask myself, as my thoughts wander back to +the past: why did I not wish to tread that way, +thrown open by destiny, where soft joys and ease +of soul were awaiting me? . . . No, I could +never have become habituated to such a fate! +I am like a sailor born and bred on the deck of a +pirate brig: his soul has grown accustomed to +storms and battles; but, once let him be case +upon the shore, and he chafes, he pines away, +however invitingly the shady groves allure, how- +ever brightly shines the peaceful sun. The live- +long day he paces the sandy shore, hearkens to the +monotonous murmur of the onrushing waves, and +gazes into the misty distance: lo! yonder, upon +the pale line dividing the blue deep from the +grey clouds, is there not glancing the longed-for +sail, at first like the wing of a seagull, but little +by little severing itself from the foam of the +billows and, with even course, drawing nigh to +the desert harbour? + + +APPENDIX + +PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION + +(By the Author) + +THE preface to a book serves the double +purpose of prologue and epilogue. It +affords the author an opportunity of explaining +the object of the work, or of vindicating himself +and replying to his critics. As a rule, however, +the reader is concerned neither with the moral +purpose of the book nor with the attacks of the +Reviewers, and so the preface remains unread. +Nevertheless, this is a pity, especially with us +Russians! The public of this country is so youth- +ful, not to say simple-minded, that it cannot +understand the meaning of a fable unless the +moral is set forth at the end. Unable to see a +joke, insensible to irony, it has, in a word, been +badly brought up. It has not yet learned that in +a decent book, as in decent society, open invective +can have no place; that our present-day civilisa- +tion has invented a keener weapon, none the less +deadly for being almost invisible, which, under +the cloak of flattery, strikes with sure and irre- +sistible effect. The Russian public is like a +simple-minded person from the country who, +chancing to overhear a conversation between two +diplomatists belonging to hostile courts, comes +away with the conviction that each of them has +been deceiving his Government in the interest of +a most affectionate private friendship. + +The unfortunate effects of an over-literal accep- +tation of words by certain readers and even Re- +viewers have recently been manifested in regard to +the present book. Many of its readers have been +dreadfully, and in all seriousness, shocked to find +such an immoral man as Pechorin set before +them as an example. Others have observed, +with much acumen, that the author has painted +his own portrait and those of his acquaint- +ances! . . . What a stale and wretched jest! +But Russia, it appears, has been constituted in +such a way that absurdities of this kind will +never be eradicated. It is doubtful whether, in +this country, the most ethereal of fairy-tales +would escape the reproach of attempting offen- +sive personalities. + +Pechorin, gentlemen, is in fact a portrait, but +not of one man only: he is a composite portrait, +made up of all the vices which flourish, full- +grown, amongst the present generation. You +will tell me, as you have told me before, +that no man can be so bad as this; and my +reply will be: "If you believe that such +persons as the villains of tragedy and romance +could exist in real life, why can you not believe +in the reality of Pechorin? If you admire fic- +tions much more terrible and monstrous, why is +it that this character, even if regarded merely as +a creature of the imagination, cannot obtain +quarter at your hands? Is it not because there +is more truth in it than may be altogether palat- +able to you?" + +You will say that the cause of morality gains +nothing by this book. I beg your pardon. People +have been surfeited with sweetmeats and their +digestion has been ruined: bitter medicines, +sharp truths, are therefore necessary. This must +not, however, be taken to mean that the author +has ever proudly dreamed of becoming a reformer +of human vices. Heaven keep him from such im- +pertinence! He has simply found it entertaining +to depict a man, such as he considers to be +typical of the present day and such as he has often +met in real life -- too often, indeed, unfortunately +both for the author himself and for you. Suffice +it that the disease has been pointed out: how it +is to be cured -- God alone knows! + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Hero of Our Time, by Lermontov + diff --git a/old/ahero10.zip b/old/ahero10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff143eb --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ahero10.zip |