'Has he come here for long, do you know?'
'Yes, I believe he has to be here for a fortnight.'
And Kirilla Matveitch hurried away to dress. I walked several times up
and down the drawing-room. I don't recollect that Prince N.'s arrival
made any special impression on me at the time, except that feeling of
hostility which usually possesses us on the appearance of any new
person in our domestic circle. Possibly there was mingled with this
feeling something too of the nature of envy--of a shy and obscure
person from Moscow towards a brilliant officer from Petersburg. 'The
prince,' I mused, 'is an upstart from the capital; he'll look down upon
us....' I had not seen him for more than an instant, but I had had time
to perceive that he was good-looking, clever, and at his ease. After
pacing the room for some time, I stopped at last before a
looking-glass, pulled a comb out of my pocket, gave a picturesque
carelessness to my hair, and, as sometimes happens, became suddenly
absorbed in the contemplation of my own face. I remember my attention
centred anxiously about my nose; the soft and undefined outlines of
that feature afforded me no great satisfaction, when suddenly in the
dark depths of the sloping mirror, which reflected almost the whole
room, the door opened, and the slender figure of Liza appeared. I don't
know why I did not stir, and kept the same expression on my face. Liza
craned her head forward, looked intently at me, and raising her
eyebrows, biting her lips, and holding her breath as any one does who
is glad at not being noticed, she cautiously drew back and stealthily
drew the door to after her. The door creaked slightly. Liza started and
stood rooted to the spot... I still kept from stirring ... she pulled
the handle again and vanished. There was no possibility of doubt: the
expression of Liza's face at the sight of my figure, that expression in
which nothing could be detected except a desire to get away again
successfully, to escape a disagreeable interview, the quick flash of
delight I had time to catch in her eyes when she fancied she really had
managed to creep away unnoticed--it all spoke too clearly; that girl
did not love me. For a long, long while I could not take my eyes off
that motionless, dumb door, which was once more a patch of white in the
looking-glass. I tried to smile at my own long face--dropped my head,
went home again, and flung myself on the sofa. I felt extraordinarily
heavy at heart, so much so that I could not cry ... and, besides, what
was there to cry about...? 'Is it possible?' I repeated incessantly,
lying, as though I were murdered, on my back with my hands folded on my
breast--'is it possible?'...Don't you think that's rather good, that
'is it possible?'
_March 26. Thaw._
When, next day, after long hesitation and with a low sinking at my
heart, I went into the Ozhogins' familiar drawing-room, I was no longer
the same man as they had known during the last three weeks. All my old
peculiarities, which I had begun to get over, under the influence of a
new feeling, reappeared and took possession of me, like proprietors
returning to their house. People of my sort are usually guided, not so
much by positive facts, as by their own impressions: I, who no longer
ago than the day before had been dreaming of the 'raptures of love
returned,' was that day no less convinced of my 'unhappiness,' and was
absolutely despairing, though I was not myself able to find any
rational ground for my despair. I could not as yet be jealous of Prince
N., and whatever his qualities might be, his mere arrival was not
sufficient to extinguish Liza's good-will towards me at once.... But
stay, was there any good-will on her part? I recalled the past. 'What
of the walk in the wood?' I asked myself. 'What of the expression of
her face in the glass?' 'But,' I went on, 'the walk in the wood, I
think ... Fie on me! my God, what a wretched creature I am!' I said at
last, out loud. Of such sort were the unphrased, incomplete thoughts
that went round and round a thousand times over in a monotonous whirl
in my head. I repeat, I went back to the Ozhogins' the same
hypersensitive, suspicious, constrained creature I had been from my
childhood up....
I found the whole family in the drawing-room; Bizmyonkov was sitting
there, too, in a corner. Every one seemed in high good-humour; Ozhogin,
in particular, positively beamed, and his first word was to tell me
that Prince N. had spent the whole of the previous evening with them.
Liza gave me a tranquil greeting. 'Oh,' said I to myself; 'now I
understand why you're in such spirits.' I must own the prince's second
visit puzzled me. I had not anticipated it. As a rule fellows like me
anticipate everything in the world, except what is bound to occur in
the natural order of things; I sulked and put on the air of an injured
but magnanimous person; I tried to punish Liza by showing my
displeasure, from which one must conclude I was not yet completely
desperate after all. They do say that in some cases when one is really
loved, it's positively of use to torment the adored one; but in my
position it was indescribably stupid. Liza, in the most innocent way,
paid no attention to me. No one but Madame Ozhogin observed my solemn
taciturnity, and she inquired anxiously after my health. I replied, of
course, with a bitter smile, that I was thankful to say I was perfectly
well. Ozhogin continued to expatiate on the subject of their visitor;
but noticing that I responded reluctantly, he addressed himself
principally to Bizmyonkov, who was listening to him with great
attention, when a servant suddenly came in, announcing the arrival of
Prince N. Our host jumped up and ran to meet him; Liza, upon whom I at
once turned an eagle eye, flushed with delight, and made as though she
would move from her seat. The prince came in, all agreeable perfume,
gaiety, cordiality....
As I am not composing a romance for a gentle reader, but simply writing
for my own amusement, it stands to reason I need not make use of the
usual dodges of our respected authors. I will say straight out without
further delay that Liza fell passionately in love with the prince from
the first day she saw him, and the prince fell in love with her
too--partly from having nothing to do, and partly from a propensity for
turning women's heads, and also owing to the fact that Liza really was
a very charming creature. There was nothing to be wondered at in their
falling in love with each other. He had certainly never expected to
find such a pearl in such a wretched shell (I am alluding to the
God-forsaken town of O----), and she had never in her wildest dreams
seen anything in the least like this brilliant, clever, fascinating
aristocrat.
After the first courtesies, Ozhogin introduced me to the prince, who
was very affable in his behaviour to me. He was as a rule very affable
with every one; and in spite of the immeasurable distance between him
and our obscure provincial circle, he was clever enough to avoid being
a source of constraint to any one, and even to make a show of being on
our level, and only living at Petersburg, as it were, by accident.
That first evening.... Oh, that first evening! In our happy days of
childhood our teachers used to describe and set up before us as an
example the manly fortitude of the young Spartan, who, having stolen a
fox and hidden it under his tunic, without uttering one shriek let it
devour all his entrails, and so preferred death itself to disgrace....
I can find no better comparison for my indescribable sufferings during
the evening on which I first saw the prince by Liza's side. My
continual forced smile and painful vigilance, my idiotic silence, my
miserable and ineffectual desire to get away--all that was doubtless
something truly remarkable in its own way. It was not one wild beast
alone gnawing at my vitals; jealousy, envy, the sense of my own
insignificance, and helpless hatred were torturing me. I could not but
admit that the prince really was a very agreeable young man.... I
devoured him with my eyes; I really believe I forgot to blink as usual,
as I stared at him. He talked not to Liza alone, but all he said was of
course really for her. He must have felt me a great bore. He most
likely guessed directly that it was a discarded lover he had to deal
with, but from sympathy for me, and also a profound sense of my
absolute harmlessness, he treated me with extraordinary gentleness. You
can fancy how this wounded me! In the course of the evening I tried, I
remember, to smooth over my mistake. I positively (don't laugh at me,
whoever you may be, who chance to look through these lines--especially
as it was my last illusion...) ... I, positively, in the midst of my
different sufferings, imagined all of a sudden that Liza wanted to
punish me for my haughty coldness at the beginning of my visit, that
she was angry with me and only flirting with the prince from pique....
I seized my opportunity and with a meek but gracious smile, I went up
to her, and muttered--'Enough, forgive me, not that I'm afraid ...' and
suddenly, without awaiting her reply, I gave my features an
extraordinarily cheerful and free-and-easy expression, with a set grin,
passed my hand above my head in the direction of the ceiling (I wanted,
I remember, to set my cravat straight), and was even on the point of
pirouetting round on one foot, as though to say, 'All is over, I am
happy, let's all be happy,'--I did not, however, execute this
manoeuvre, as I was afraid of losing my balance, owing to an unnatural
stiffness in my knees.... Liza failed absolutely to understand me; she
looked in my face with amazement, gave a hasty smile, as though she
wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible, and again approached
the prince. Blind and deaf as I was, I could not but be inwardly aware
that she was not in the least angry, and was not annoyed with me at
that instant: she simply never gave me a thought. The blow was a final
one. My last hopes were shattered with a crash, just as a block of ice,
thawed by the sunshine of spring, suddenly falls into tiny morsels. I
was utterly defeated at the first skirmish, and, like the Prussians at
Jena, lost everything at once in one day. No, she was not angry with
me!...
Alas, it was quite the contrary! She too--I saw that--was being swept
off her feet by the torrent. Like a young tree, already half torn from
the bank, she bent eagerly over the stream, ready to abandon to it for
ever the first blossom of her spring and her whole life. A man whose
fate it has been to be the witness of such a passion, has lived through
bitter moments if he has loved himself and not been loved. I shall for
ever remember that devouring attention, that tender gaiety, that
innocent self-oblivion, that glance, still a child's and already a
woman's, that happy, as it were flowering smile that never left the
half-parted lips and glowing cheeks.... All that Liza had vaguely
foreshadowed during our walk in the wood had come to pass now--and she,
as she gave herself up utterly to love, was at once stiller and
brighter, like new wine, which ceases to ferment because its full
maturity has come....
I had the fortitude to sit through that first evening and the
subsequent evenings ... all to the end! I could have no hope of
anything. Liza and the prince became every day more devoted to each
other ... But I had absolutely lost all sense of personal dignity, and
could not tear myself away from the spectacle of my own misery. I
remember one day I tried not to go, swore to myself in the morning that
I would stay at home, and at eight o'clock in the evening (I usually
set off at seven) leaped up like a madman, put on my hat, and ran
breathless into Kirilla Matveitch's drawing-room. My position was
excessively absurd. I was obstinately silent; sometimes for whole days
together I did not utter a sound. I was, as I have said already, never
distinguished for eloquence; but now everything I had in my mind took
flight, as it were, in the presence of the prince, and I was left bare
and bereft. Besides, when I was alone, I set my wretched brain working
so hard, slowly going over everything I had noticed or surmised during
the preceding day, that when I went back to the Ozhogins' I scarcely
had energy left to observe again. They treated me considerately, as a
sick person; I saw that. Every morning I adopted some new, final
resolution, for the most part painfully hatched in the course of a
sleepless night. At one time I made up my mind to have it out with
Liza, to give her friendly advice ... but when I chanced to be alone
with her, my tongue suddenly ceased to work, froze as it were, and we
both, in great discomfort, waited for the entrance of some third
person. Another time I meant to run away, of course for ever, leaving
my beloved a letter full of reproaches, and I even one day began this
letter; but the sense of justice had not yet quite vanished in me. I
realised that I had no right to reproach any one for anything, and I
flung what I had written in the fire. Then I suddenly offered myself up
wholly as a sacrifice, gave Liza my benediction, praying for her
happiness, and smiled in meek and friendly fashion from my corner at
the prince. But the cruel-hearted lovers not only never thanked me for
my self-sacrifice, they never even noticed me, and were, apparently,
quite ready to dispense with my smiles and my blessings....
Then, in wrath, I suddenly flew into quite the opposite mood. I swore
to myself, wrapping my cloak about me like a Spaniard, to rush out from
some dark corner and stab my lucky rival, and with brutal glee I
imagined Liza's despair.... But, in the first place, such corners were
few in the town of O----; and, secondly--the wooden fence, the street
lamp, the policeman in the distance.... No! in such corners it was
somehow far more suitable to sell buns and oranges than to shed human
blood. I must own that, among other means of deliverance, as I very
vaguely expressed it in my colloquies with myself, I did entertain the
idea of having recourse to Ozhogin himself ... of calling the attention
of that nobleman to the perilous situation of his daughter, and the
mournful consequences of her indiscretion....
I even once began speaking to him on a certain delicate subject; but my
remarks were so indirect and misty, that after listening and listening
to me, he suddenly, as it were, waking up, rubbed his hand rapidly and
vigorously all over his face, not sparing his nose, gave a snort, and
walked away from me. It is needless to say that in resolving on this
step I persuaded myself that I was acting from the most disinterested
motives, was desirous of the general welfare, and was doing my duty as
a friend of the house.... But I venture to think that even had Kirilla
Matveitch not cut short my outpourings, I should in any case not have
had courage to finish my monologue. At times I set to work with all the
solemnity of some sage of antiquity, weighing the qualities of the
prince; at times I comforted myself with the hope that it was all of no
consequence, that Liza would recover her senses, that her love was not
real love ... oh, no! In short, I know no idea that I did not worry
myself with at that time. There was only one resource which never, I
candidly admit, entered my head: I never once thought of taking my
life. Why it did not occur to me I don't know.... Possibly, even then,
I had a presentiment I should not have long to live in any case.
It will be readily understood that in such unfavourable circumstances
my manner, my behaviour with people, was more than ever marked by
unnaturalness and constraint. Even Madame Ozhogin--that creature
dull-witted from her birth up--began to shun me, and at times did not
know in what way to approach me. Bizmyonkov, always polite and ready to
do services, avoided me. I fancied even at that time that I had in him
a companion in misfortune--that he too loved Liza. But he never
responded to my hints, and altogether showed a reluctance to converse
with me. The prince behaved in a very friendly way to him; the prince,
one might say, respected him. Neither Bizmyonkov nor I was any obstacle
to the prince and Liza; but he did not shun them as I did, nor look
savage nor injured--and readily joined them when they desired it. It is
true that on such occasions he was not conspicuous for any special
mirthfulness; but his good-humour had always been somewhat subdued in
character.
In this fashion about a fortnight passed by. The prince was not only
handsome and clever: he played the piano, sang, sketched fairly well,
and was a good hand at telling stories. His anecdotes, drawn from the
highest circles of Petersburg society, always made a great impression
on his audience, all the more so from the fact that he seemed to attach
no importance to them....
The consequence of this, if you like, simple accomplishment of the
prince's was that in the course of his not very protracted stay in the
town of O---- he completely fascinated all the neighbourhood. To
fascinate us poor dwellers in the steppes is at all times a very easy
task for any one coming from higher spheres. The prince's frequent
visits to the Ozhogins (he used to spend his evenings there) of course
aroused the jealousy of the other worthy gentry and officials of the
town. But the prince, like a clever person and a man of the world,
never neglected a single one of them; he called on all of them; to
every married lady and every unmarried miss he addressed at least one
flattering phrase, allowed them to feed him on elaborately solid
edibles, and to make him drink wretched wines with magnificent names;
and conducted himself, in short, like a model of caution and tact.
Prince N---- was in general a man of lively manners, sociable and
genial by inclination, and in this case incidentally from prudential
motives also; he could not fail to be a complete success in everything.
Ever since his arrival, all in the house had felt that the time had
flown by with unusual rapidity; everything had gone off beautifully.
Papa Ozhogin, though he pretended that he noticed nothing, was
doubtless rubbing his hands in private at the idea of such a
son-in-law. The prince, for his part, managed matters with the utmost
sobriety and discretion, when, all of a sudden, an unexpected
incident....
Till to-morrow. To-day I'm tired. These recollections irritate me even
at the edge of the grave. Terentyevna noticed to-day that my nose has
already begun to grow sharp; and that, they say, is a bad sign.
_March 27. Thaw continuing._
Things were in the position described above: the prince and Liza were
in love with each other; the old Ozhogins were waiting to see what
would come of it; Bizmyonkov was present at the proceedings--there was
nothing else to be said of him. I was struggling like a fish on the
ice, and watching with all my might,--I remember that at that time I
set myself the task of preventing Liza at least from falling into the
snares of a seducer, and consequently began paying particular attention
to the maidservants and the fateful 'back stairs'--though, on the other
hand, I often spent whole nights in dreaming with what touching
magnanimity I would one day hold out a hand to the betrayed victim and
say to her, 'The traitor has deceived thee; but I am thy true friend
... let us forget the past and be happy!'--when sudden and glad
tidings overspread the whole town. The marshal of the district proposed
to give a great ball in honour of their respected guest, on his private
estate Gornostaevka. All the official world, big and little, of the
town of O---- received invitations, from the mayor down to the
apothecary, an excessively emaciated German, with ferocious pretensions
to a good Russian accent, which led him into continually and quite
inappropriately employing racy colloquialisms.... Tremendous
preparations were, of course, put in hand. One purveyor of cosmetics
sold sixteen dark-blue jars of pomatum, which bore the inscription _à
la jesmin_. The young ladies provided themselves with tight dresses,
agonising in the waist and jutting out sharply over the stomach; the
mammas put formidable erections on their heads by way of caps; the busy
papas were half dead with the bustle. The longed-for day arrived at
last. I was among those invited. From the town to Gornostaevka was
reckoned between seven and eight miles. Kirilla Matveitch offered me a
seat in his coach; but I refused.... In the same way children, who have
been punished, wishing to pay their parents out, refuse their favourite
dainties at table. Besides, I felt that my presence would be felt as a
constraint by Liza. Bizmyonkov took my place. The prince drove in his
own carriage, and I in a wretched little droshky, hired for an immense
sum for this solemn occasion. I am not going to describe that ball.
Everything about it was just as it always is. There was a band, with
trumpets extraordinarily out of tune, in the gallery; there were
country gentlemen, greatly flustered, with their inevitable families,
mauve ices, viscous lemonade; servants in boots trodden down at heel
and knitted cotton gloves; provincial lions with spasmodically
contorted faces, and so on and so on. And all this little world was
revolving round its sun--round the prince. Lost in the crowd,
unnoticed even by the young ladies of eight-and-forty, with red pimples
on their brows and blue flowers on the top of their heads, I stared
incessantly, first at the prince, then at Liza. She was very charmingly
dressed and very pretty that evening. They only twice danced together
(it is true, he danced the mazurka with her); but it seemed, to me at
least, that there was a sort of secret, continuous communication
between them. Even while not looking at her, while not speaking to her,
he was still, as it were, addressing her, and her alone. He was
handsome and brilliant and charming with other people--for her sake
only. She was apparently conscious that she was the queen of the ball,
and that she was loved. Her face at once beamed with childlike delight
and innocent pride, and was suddenly illuminated by another, deeper
feeling. Happiness radiated from her. I observed all this.... It was
not the first time I had watched them.... At first this wounded me
intensely; afterwards it, as it were, touched me; but, finally, it
infuriated me. I suddenly felt extraordinarily wrathful, and, I
remember, was extraordinarily delighted at this new sensation, and even
conceived a certain respect for myself. 'We'll show them we're not
crushed yet,' I said to myself. When the first inviting notes of the
mazurka sounded, I looked about me with composure, and with a cool and
easy air approached a long-faced young lady with a red and shiny nose,
a mouth that stood awkwardly open, as though it had come unbuttoned,
and a scraggy neck that recalled the handle of a bass-viol. I went up
to her, and, with a perfunctory scrape of my heels, invited her to the
dance. She was wearing a dress of faded rosebud pink, not full-blown
rose colour; on her head quivered a striped and dejected beetle of some
sort on a thick bronze pin; and altogether this lady was, if one may so
express it, soaked through and through with a sort of sour ennui and
inveterate lack of success. From the very commencement of the evening
she had not once stirred from her seat; no one had thought of asking
her to dance. One flaxen-headed youth of sixteen had, through lack of a
partner, been on the point of addressing this lady, and had taken a
step in her direction, but had thought better of it, stared at her, and
hurriedly dived into the crowd. You can fancy with what joyful
amazement she agreed to my proposal! I led her in triumph right across
the ballroom, picked out two chairs, and sat down with her in the ring
of the mazurka, among ten couples, almost opposite the prince, who had,
of course, been offered the first place. The prince, as I have said
already, was dancing with Liza. Neither I nor my partner was disturbed
by invitations; consequently, we had plenty of time for conversation.
To tell the truth, my partner was not conspicuous for her capacity for
the utterance of words in consecutive speech; she used her mouth
principally for the achievement of a strange downward smile such as I
had never till then beheld; while she raised her eyes upward, as though
some unseen force were pulling her face in two. But I did not feel her
lack of eloquence. Happily I felt full of wrath, and my partner did not
make me shy. I fell to finding fault with everything and every one in
the world, with especial emphasis on town-bred youngsters and
Petersburg dandies; and went to such lengths at last, that my partner
gradually ceased smiling, and instead of turning her eyes upward, began
suddenly--from astonishment, I suppose--to squint, and that so
strangely, as though she had for the first time observed the fact that
she had a nose on her face. And one of the lions, referred to above,
who was sitting next me, did not once take his eyes off me; he
positively turned to me with the expression of an actor on the stage,
who has waked up in an unfamiliar place, as though he would say, 'Is it
really you!' While I poured forth this tirade, I still, however, kept
watch on the prince and Liza. They were continually invited; but I
suffered less when they were both dancing; and even when they were
sitting side by side, and smiling as they talked to each other that
sweet smile which hardly leaves the faces of happy lovers, even then I
was not in such torture; but when Liza flitted across the room with
some desperate dandy of an hussar, while the prince with her blue gauze
scarf on his knees followed her dreamily with his eyes, as though
delighting in his conquest;--then, oh! then, I went through intolerable
agonies, and in my anger gave vent to such spiteful observations, that
the pupils of my partner's eyes simply fastened on her nose!
Meanwhile the mazurka was drawing to a close. They were beginning the
figure called _la confidente_. In this figure the lady sits in the
middle of a circle, chooses another lady as her confidant, and whispers
in her ear the name of the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance.
Her partner conducts one after another of the dancers to her; but the
lady, who is in the secret, refuses them, till at last the happy man
fixed on beforehand arrives. Liza sat in the middle of the circle and
chose the daughter of the host, one of those young ladies of whom one
says, 'God help them!'... The prince proceeded to discover her choice.
After presenting about a dozen young men to her in vain (the daughter
of the house refused them all with the most amiable of smiles), he at
last turned to me.
Something extraordinary took place within me at that instant; I, as it
were, twitched all over, and would have refused, but got up and went
along. The prince conducted me to Liza.... She did not even look at me;
the daughter of the house shook her head in refusal, the prince turned
to me, and, probably incited by the goose-like expression of my face,
made me a deep bow. This sarcastic bow, this refusal, transmitted to me
through my triumphant rival, his careless smile, Liza's indifferent
inattention, all this lashed me to frenzy.... I moved up to the prince
and whispered furiously, 'You think fit to laugh at me, it seems?'
The prince looked at me with contemptuous surprise, took my arm again,
and making a show of re-conducting me to my seat, answered coldly, 'I?'
'Yes, you!' I went on in a whisper, obeying, however--that is to say,
following him to my place; 'you; but I do not intend to permit any
empty-headed Petersburg up-start----'
The prince smiled tranquilly, almost condescendingly, pressed my arm,
whispered, 'I understand you; but this is not the place; we will have a
word later,' turned away from me, went up to Bizmyonkov, and led him up
to Liza. The pale little official turned out to be the chosen partner.
Liza got up to meet him.
Sitting beside my partner with the dejected beetle on her head, I felt
almost a hero. My heart beat violently, my breast heaved gallantly
under my starched shirt front, I drew deep and hurried breaths, and
suddenly gave the local lion near me such a magnificent glare that
there was an involuntary quiver of his foot in my direction. Having
disposed of this person, I scanned the whole circle of dancers.... I
fancied two or three gentlemen were staring at me with some perplexity;
but, in general, my conversation with the prince had passed
unnoticed.... My rival was already back in his chair, perfectly
composed, and with the same smile on his face. Bizmyonkov led Liza back
to her place. She gave him a friendly bow, and at once turned to the
prince, as I fancied, with some alarm. But he laughed in response, with
a graceful wave of his hand, and must have said something very
agreeable to her, for she flushed with delight, dropped her eyes, and
then bent them with affectionate reproach upon him.
The heroic frame of mind, which had suddenly developed in me, had not
disappeared by the end of the mazurka; but I did not indulge in any
more epigrams or 'quizzing.' I contented myself with glancing
occasionally with gloomy severity at my partner, who was obviously
beginning to be afraid of me, and was utterly tongue-tied and
continuously blinking by the time I placed her under the protection of
her mother, a very fat woman with a red cap on her head. Having
consigned the scared maiden lady to her natural belongings, I turned
away to a window, folded my arms, and began to await what would happen.
I had rather long to wait. The prince was the whole time surrounded by
his host--surrounded, simply, as England is surrounded by the sea,--to
say nothing of the other members of the marshal's family and the rest
of the guests. And besides, he could hardly go up to such an
insignificant person as me and begin to talk without arousing a general
feeling of surprise. This insignificance, I remember, was positively a
joy to me at the time. 'All right,' I thought, as I watched him
courteously addressing first one and then another highly respected
personage, honoured by his notice, if only for an 'instant's flash,' as
the poets say;--'all right, my dear ... you'll come to me soon--I've
insulted you, anyway.' At last the prince, adroitly escaping from the
throng of his adorers, passed close by me, looked somewhere between the
window and my hair, was turning away, and suddenly stood still, as
though he had recollected something. 'Ah, yes!' he said, turning to me
with a smile, 'by the way, I have a little matter to talk to you
about.'
Two country gentlemen, of the most persistent, who were obstinately
pursuing the prince, probably imagined the 'little matter' to relate to
official business, and respectfully fell back. The prince took my arm
and led me apart. My heart was thumping at my ribs.
'You, I believe,' he began, emphasising the word _you,_ and looking at
my chin with a contemptuous expression, which, strange to say, was
supremely becoming to his fresh and handsome face, 'you said something
abusive to me?'
'I said what I thought,' I replied, raising my voice.
'Sh ... quietly,' he observed; 'decent people don't bawl. You would
like, perhaps, to fight me?'
'That's your affair,' I answered, drawing myself up.
'I shall be obliged to challenge you,' he remarked carelessly, 'if you
don't withdraw your expressions....'
'I do not intend to withdraw from anything,' I rejoined with pride.
'Really?' he observed, with an ironical smile.
'In that case,' he continued, after a brief pause, 'I shall have the
honour of sending my second to you to-morrow.'
'Very good, 'I said in a voice, if possible, even more indifferent.
The prince gave a slight bow.
'I cannot prevent you from considering me empty-headed,' he added, with
a haughty droop of his eyelids; 'but the Princes N---- cannot be
upstarts. Good-bye till we meet, Mr.... Mr. Shtukaturin.'
He quickly turned his back on me, and again approached his host, who
was already beginning to get excited.
Mr. Shtukaturin!... My name is Tchulkaturin.... I could think of
nothing to say to him in reply to this last insult, and could only gaze
after him with fury. 'Till to-morrow,' I muttered, clenching my teeth,
and I at once looked for an officer of my acquaintance, a cavalry
captain in the Uhlans, called Koloberdyaev, a desperate rake, and a
very good fellow. To him I related, in few words, my quarrel with the
prince, and asked him to be my second. He, of course, promptly
consented, and I went home.
I could not sleep all night--from excitement, not from cowardice. I am
not a coward. I positively thought very little of the possibility
confronting me of losing my life--that, as the Germans assure us,
highest good on earth. I could think only of Liza, of my ruined hopes,
of what I ought to do. 'Ought I to try to kill the prince?' I asked
myself; and, of course, I wanted to kill him--not from revenge, but
from a desire for Liza's good. 'But she will not survive such a blow,'
I went on. 'No, better let him kill me!' I must own it was an agreeable
reflection, too, that I, an obscure provincial person, had forced a man
of such consequence to fight a duel with me.
The morning light found me still absorbed in these reflections; and,
not long after it, appeared Koloberdyaev.
'Well,' he asked me, entering my room with a clatter, 'where's the
prince's second?' 'Upon my word,' I answered with annoyance, 'it's
seven o'clock at the most; the prince is still asleep, I should
imagine.' 'In that case,' replied the cavalry officer, in nowise
daunted, 'order some tea for me. My head aches from yesterday
evening.... I've not taken my clothes off all night. Though, indeed,'
he added with a yawn, 'I don't as a rule often take my clothes off.'
Some tea was given him. He drank off six glasses of tea and rum, smoked
four pipes, told me he had on the previous day bought, for next to
nothing, a horse the coachman refused to drive, and that he was meaning
to drive her out with one of her fore legs tied up, and fell asleep,
without undressing, on the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth. I got up and
put my papers to rights. One note of invitation from Liza, the one note
I had received from her, I was on the point of putting in my bosom, but
on second thoughts I flung it in a drawer. Koloberdyaev was snoring
feebly, with his head hanging from the leather pillow.... For a long
while, I remember, I scrutinised his unkempt, daring, careless, and
good-natured face. At ten o'clock the man announced the arrival of
Bizmyonkov. The prince had chosen him as second.
We both together roused the soundly sleeping cavalry officer. He sat
up, stared at us with dim eyes, in a hoarse voice demanded vodka. He
recovered himself, and exchanging greetings with Bizmyonkov, he went
with him into the next room to arrange matters. The consultation of the
worthy seconds did not last long. A quarter of an hour later, they both
came into my bedroom. Koloberdyaev announced to me that 'we're going to
fight to-day at three o'clock with pistols.' In silence I bent my head,
in token of my agreement. Bizmyonkov at once took leave of us, and
departed. He was rather pale and inwardly agitated, like a man unused
to such jobs, but he was, nevertheless, very polite and chilly. I felt,
as it were, conscience-stricken in his presence, and did not dare look
him in the face. Koloberdyaev began telling me about his horse. This
conversation was very welcome to me. I was afraid he would mention
Liza. But the good-natured cavalry officer was not a gossip, and,
moreover, he despised all women, calling them, God knows why, green
stuff. At two o'clock we had lunch, and at three we were at the place
fixed upon--the very birch copse in which I had once walked with Liza,
a couple of yards from the precipice.
We arrived first; but the prince and Bizmyonkov did not keep us long
waiting. The prince was, without exaggeration, as fresh as a rose; his
brown eyes looked out with excessive cordiality from under the peak of
his cap. He was smoking a cigar, and on seeing Koloberdyaev shook his
hand in a friendly way.
Even to me he bowed very genially. I was conscious, on the contrary, of
being pale, and my hands, to my terrible vexation, were slightly
trembling ... my throat was parched.... I had never fought a duel
before. 'O God!' I thought; 'if only that ironical gentleman doesn't
take my agitation for timidity!' I was inwardly cursing my nerves; but
glancing, at last, straight in the prince's face, and catching on his
lips an almost imperceptible smile, I suddenly felt furious again, and
was at once at my ease. Meanwhile, our seconds were fixing the barrier,
measuring out the paces, loading the pistols. Koloberdyaev did most;
Bizmyonkov rather watched him. It was a magnificent day--as fine as the
day of that ever-memorable walk. The thick blue of the sky peeped, as
then, through the golden green of the leaves. Their lisping seemed to
mock me. The prince went on smoking his cigar, leaning with his
shoulder against the trunk of a young lime-tree....
'Kindly take your places, gentlemen; ready,' Koloberdyaev pronounced at
last, handing us pistols.
The prince walked a few steps away, stood still, and, turning his head,
asked me over his shoulder, 'You still refuse to take back your words,
then?'
I tried to answer him; but my voice failed me, and I had to content
myself with a contemptuous wave of the hand. The prince smiled again,
and took up his position in his place. We began to approach one
another. I raised my pistol, was about to aim at my enemy's chest--but
suddenly tilted it up, as though some one had given my elbow a shove,
and fired. The prince tottered, and put his left hand to his left
temple--a thread of blood was flowing down his cheek from under the
white leather glove, Bizmyonkov rushed up to him.
'It's all right,' he said, taking off his cap, which the bullet had
pierced; 'since it's in the head, and I've not fallen, it must be a
mere scratch.'
He calmly pulled a cambric handkerchief out of his pocket, and put it
to his blood-stained curls.