THE CRIMEA
A totally unexpected stroke of luck was in store for me. My aunt, Zoe
Zaroudny, who was going to spend a month in the Crimea with her two
little daughters, offered to take me with her, promising mamma that I
should be well looked after.
We travelled from Sebastopol to Jalta in a mail-coach. It was such a
beautiful drive, but seemed all too short. I am not given to sentimental
rhapsodies over the beauties of nature, nevertheless, I was very much
impressed by the divinely lovely scenery. I had no end of a good time at
Jalta and danced a great deal at the military club, making conquests by
the dozen. Time flew rapidly and the date fixed for our departure drew
near; it was a great misfortune for me that our stay was so short.
On the eve of our departure, I amused myself more than ever at the
military club. At supper my cavaliers entreated me to arrange somehow
or other not to leave Jalta next day. Mrs. S., a jolly middle-aged lady
whose acquaintance I had just made that evening, offered to take charge
of me and proposed to go instantly and persuade my aunt to let me stay
with her a few weeks longer. I said “yes” on the impulse of the moment to
Mrs. S., not stopping to think that I ought first to ask permission of my
parents by telegraph. We set forth at once to our hotel under the escort
of my partners. Daylight was beginning to break, and the ship which was
to carry me away in a few hours had been brought up alongside of the
pier, and our trunks were already buckled and sent off to the steamer.
Mrs. S. came up to my aunt’s bed, my cavaliers waiting at a respectful
distance behind the door, and expressed her desire. My heart was beating
wildly, I wondered what my aunt would say, would she let me stay, and I
uttered a prayer inwardly for the happy issue of our request; poor aunt
Zoe, who was sleeping soundly, awoke with a start and gazed perplexedly
at Mrs. S., who pledged herself to mind me as her own bairn during my
stay in Jalta, and promised to bring me back to Kharkoff in the autumn.
Mrs. S. came out victorious and remained slumbering in an armchair till
daylight, lest my aunt should alter her mind when wide awake, as for me
I was too excited to go to bed at all. As soon as Mrs. S. went away, my
aunt who seemed to have little faith in my power to look after myself,
decided that she could not trust me out of her sight and leave me under
the guardianship of an unknown chaperon, and went to ask another aunt of
mine, a Princess Galitzine, who possessed a beautiful villa in Jalta,
to look after me; but the Princess refused downright, unwilling to be
responsible for my extravagances; she strongly disapproved of me, I
believe, and said that I was just the sort of girl to make trouble. I did
not want anyone to worry about me, I could take care of myself and get
along all right, I should think, and wanted to be treated like a rational
human being; I was eighteen after all, and a person of eighteen isn’t
a child and doesn’t need a nurse. My aunt and cousins did all in their
power to persuade me to return home with them, but I and reason had never
marched together, and I remained firm in my intention to stay in Jalta.
I accompanied my aunt to the ship. After the first whistle she called
to mind the old proverb saying: “Better late than never,” and unheeding
the protests of the captain, she jumped into a boat wishing to carry me
off, willing or unwilling; but the piercing shrill of the second whistle
forced her to turn back speedily. My fate trembled in the balance as long
as I was within my aunt’s reach, and I felt myself in utter security only
when I lost sight of the ship completely.
It was done. I got my liberty and Mrs. S. was left sole guardian over me.
I was so happy to go about alone, free as the mountain air. I might flirt
with what men I pleased, and meant to make the most of my independence
and to enjoy my free life thoroughly.
Mrs. S. was the most convenient of chaperons, very complying indeed. I
danced and rode and picnicked to my heart’s content. It was all rather
dangerous for a girl of my age and temperament, and with all that, I was
absolutely without knowledge or experience of the world, exposed to all
the temptations of a modern sea-bathing place. One began to gossip on my
account and to say nasty things of me, but it did not affect me in the
least. I was doing no harm and was happy—why couldn’t people leave me
alone?
I had a great number of admirers, an old admiral over seventy years old
among them. My charms had captivated his elderly fancy, and his old heart
caught fire. This “Methuselah” was an old silly about me and spent his
time in making love to me as any “Romeo” of twenty. My company had for
him the fascination of the forbidden fruit, but I was not at all ready
to play “May” to his “January,” and was afraid even to shake hands with
that ancient Marionette, for fear he’d fall to pieces.
The Princess Troubetzkoy invited me one day to come and dine with her
in her beautiful villa, situated a few miles from Jalta. My old admiral
offered to take me in his brougham, but being a trifle afraid of him I
would not consent at first, remembering his atrocious behaviour, when he
arranged to see me home and drove me one night from the military club.
I suddenly felt an arm steal about my waist in the dark, and that old
wretch lent close over me and wanted to embrace me. “May I give you a
kiss, just only one?” said that disgusting old man, looking at me as
if he would like to eat me, and licking his lips in the anticipation
of that pleasure. “Certainly not!” I shrieked emphatically, wrenching
myself free and ordering him to keep his hands off. But he reiterated his
demand saying that it could not matter, for he was so old and his kiss
wouldn’t leave any trace on me, as for him, it would transport him into
“Paradise.” Horrible old man! And, notwithstanding all that I accepted
the admiral’s offer, hoping that he would conduct himself better in
daylight; nevertheless I stepped into his carriage with a vague feeling
of uneasiness. It was the most horrid ride I had ever had. At first we
conversed by fits and starts, for my cavalier was as deaf as a door-post,
and I had to scream very loud into his ear; it had its good points,
for I could make my reflections aloud and call him a lot of bad names.
Unfortunately that day the admiral was in an alarmingly amiable frame
of mind and more inflammable than ever. I found his manner anything but
reassuring, and began to be vaguely uneasy at the sight of the nasty face
he turned towards me, looking at me with eyes that made me wish myself
well out of his carriage. He sat inconveniently close beside me, and I
got as far from him as the carriage allowed.
As soon as we were out of town, his quick small eyes roved in all
directions, and having satisfied himself that there was no one to see us,
he became enterprising, and grew every minute more and more amorous. His
sentiments were rather thinly veiled, and I knew what he was driving at.
All at once, before I had time to do so much as think of resistance, he
pushed back my sleeve and ran up my arm with his horrid old lips as far
as he could reach, whispering in a hissing voice that I was a tempting
morsel, and that he adored me. I was absolutely disgusted, but what
could I do then but turn upon him with flashing eyes, trying to make him
ashamed before his coachman, but the fact was that he too was as deaf as
his master. It was a most unfair advantage, and I told him so, adding
that he was a brute and that I hated him, and that if he didn’t leave me
alone at once, I should jump out of his carriage. I was a fiery girl,
and had at that moment a ferocious desire to box his ears, but happily
by that time the brougham was stopping before the Villa Troubetzkoy. I
gave a great sigh of relief. Thank heaven we had arrived! It had the
effect of chilling my “Methuselah’s” emotions, and making him recover
himself quickly. In parting with my old cavalier I treated him with the
contempt he deserved, dropping his outstretched hand like a hot coal,
and declaring to him, with my chin in the air, that I was not going to
have anything more to do with him, and that henceforth I would not permit
him even to kiss the tips of my fingers. After that I ran away, feeling
like a nymph flying from a satyr. I certainly didn’t want to trust myself
alone with that admiral again; he never forgave me for it, and I looked
the other way when I used to meet him.
We continued to lead a very gay life. Dances, picnics, rides, were in
full swing. In the midst of most delightful people and amusement I was
quite happy, and far from imagining that my horizon was not clear, and
that my happy time at Jalta was coming to an end all but too soon. One
fine morning we were all assembled on the pier to watch the mail boat
coming in, chatting away gaily, when suddenly I heard a sharp voice
calling me by my name. I turned round, and was amazed to behold amongst
the passengers my mother’s sour-faced maid, Mary—a terrible creature who
had lived with us ever since I was a baby. She announced that my parents
would not have me staying in Jalta by myself any longer, and had sent her
to fetch me, insisting on my immediate return. I was never so overwhelmed
in my life, and quite furious at being packed back home in disgrace. My
wings were clipped, my freedom lost! When I got into my room I locked
myself in and spent an hour weeping passionately.
Of course, I had to obey my duenna, and the following day started
homewards with her.
Well, it was a pretty home-coming! I had expected a scolding under the
paternal roof, and got a sound one.