THE DUEL.
Several weeks passed, during which my life in Fort Bélogorsk became not
merely endurable, but even pleasant. I was received like one of the
family in the household of the Commandant. The husband and wife were
excellent people. Iván Kouzmitch, who had been a child of the regiment,
had become an officer, and was a simple, uneducated man, but good and
true. His wife led him completely, which, by the way, very well suited
his natural laziness.
It was Vassilissa Igorofna who directed all military business as she
did that of her household, and commanded in the little fort as she did
in her house. Marya Ivánofna soon ceased being shy, and we became better
acquainted. I found her a warm-hearted and sensible girl. By degrees I
became attached to this honest family, even to Iwán Ignatiitch, the
one-eyed lieutenant, whom Chvabrine accused of secret intrigue with
Vassilissa Igorofna, an accusation which had not even a shadow of
probability. But that did not matter to Chvabrine.
I became an officer. My work did not weigh heavily upon me. In this
heaven-blest fort there was no drill to do, no guard to mount, nor
review to pass. Sometimes the Commandant instructed his soldiers for his
own pleasure. But he had not yet succeeded in teaching them to know
their right hand from their left. Chvabrine had some French books; I
took to reading, and I acquired a taste for literature. In the morning I
used to read, and I tried my hand at translations, sometimes even at
compositions in verse. Nearly every day I dined at the Commandant's,
where I usually passed the rest of the day. In the evening, Father
Garasim used to drop in, accompanied by his wife, Akoulina, who was the
sturdiest gossip of the neighbourhood. It is scarcely necessary to say
that every day we met, Chvabrine and I. Still hour by hour his
conversation pleased me less. His everlasting jokes about the
Commandant's family, and, above all, his witty remarks upon Marya
Ivánofna, displeased me very much. I had no other society but that of
this family within the little fort, but I did not want any other.
In spite of all the prophecies, the Bashkirs did not revolt. Peace
reigned around our little fort. But this peace was suddenly troubled by
war within.
I have already said I dabbled a little in literature. My attempts were
tolerable for the time, and Soumarokoff[43] himself did justice to them
many years later. One day I happened to write a little song which
pleased me. It is well-known that under colour of asking advice, authors
willingly seek a benevolent listener; I copied out my little song, and
took it to Chvabrine, the only person in the fort who could appreciate a
poetical work.
After a short preface, I drew my manuscript from my pocket, and read to
him the following verses:[44]
"By waging war with thoughts of love
I try to forget my beauty;
Alas! by flight from Masha,
I hope my freedom to regain!
"But the eyes which enslaved me are ever before me.
My soul have they troubled and ruined my rest.
"Oh! Masha, who knowest my sorrows,
Seeing me in this miserable plight,
Take pity on thy captive."
"What do you think of that?" I said to Chvabrine, expecting praise as a
tribute due to me. But to my great displeasure Chvabrine, who usually
showed kindness, told me flatly my song was worth nothing.
"Why?" I asked, trying to hide my vexation.
"Because such verses," replied he, "are only worthy of my master
Trédiakofski,[45] and, indeed, remind me very much of his little erotic
couplets."
He took the MSS. from my hand and began unmercifully criticizing each
verse, each word, cutting me up in the most spiteful way. That was too
much for me; I snatched the MSS. out of his hands, and declared that
never, no never, would I ever again show him one of my compositions.
Chvabrine did not laugh the less at this threat.
"Let us see," said he, "if you will be able to keep your word; poets
have as much need of an audience as Iván Kouzmitch has need of his
'_petit verre_' before dinner. And who is this Masha to whom you declare
your tender sentiments and your ardent flame? Surely it must be Marya
Ivánofna?"
"That does not concern you," replied I, frowning; "I don't ask for your
advice nor your suppositions."
"Oh! oh! a vain poet and a discreet lover," continued Chvabrine,
irritating me more and more. "Listen to a little friendly advice: if you
wish to succeed, I advise you not to stick at songs."
"What do you mean, sir?" I exclaimed; "explain yourself if you please."
"With pleasure," rejoined he. "I mean that if you want to be well with
Masha Mironoff, you need only make her a present of a pair of earrings
instead of your languishing verses."
My blood boiled.
"Why have you such an opinion of her?" I asked him, restraining with
difficulty my indignation.
"Because," replied he, with a satanic smile, "because I know by
experience her views and habits."
"You lie, you rascal!" I shouted at him, in fury. "You are a shameless
liar."
Chvabrine's face changed.
"This I cannot overlook," he said; "you shall give me satisfaction."
"Certainly, whenever you like," replied I, joyfully; for at that moment
I was ready to tear him in pieces.
I rushed at once to Iwán Ignatiitch, whom I found with a needle in his
hand. In obedience to the order of the Commandant's wife, he was
threading mushrooms to be dried for the winter.
"Ah! Petr' Andréjïtch," said he, when he saw me; "you are welcome. On
what errand does heaven send you, if I may presume to ask?"
I told him in a few words that I had quarrelled with Alexey Iványtch,
and that I begged him, Iwán Ignatiitch, to be my second. Iwán Ignatiitch
heard me till I had done with great attention, opening wide his single
eye.
"You deign to tell me," said he, "that you wish to kill Alexey Iványtch,
and that I am to be witness? Is not that what you mean, if I may presume
to ask you?"
"Exactly."
"But, good heavens, Petr' Andréjïtch, what folly have you got in your
head? You and Alexey Iványtch have insulted one another; well, a fine
affair! You needn't wear an insult hung round your neck. He has said
silly things to you, give him some impertinence; he in return will give
you a blow, give him in return a box on the ear; he another, you
another, and then you part. And presently we oblige you to make peace.
Whereas now--is it a good thing to kill your neighbour, if I may presume
to ask you? Even if it were _you_ who should kill _him_! May heaven be
with him, for I do not love him. But if it be he who is to run you
through, you will have made a nice business of it. Who will pay for the
broken pots, allow me to ask?"
The arguments of the prudent officer did not deter me. My resolution
remained firm.
"As you like," said Iwán Ignatiitch, "do as you please; but what good
should I do as witness? People fight; what is there extraordinary in
that, allow me to ask? Thank heaven I have seen the Swedes and the
Turks at close quarters, and I have seen a little of everything."
I endeavoured to explain to him as best I could the duty of a second,
but I found Iwán Ignatiitch quite unmanageable.
"Do as you like," said he; "if I meddled in the matter, it would be to
go and tell Iván Kouzmitch, according to the rules of the service, that
a criminal deed is being plotted in the fort, in opposition to the
interests of the crown, and remark to the Commandant how advisable it
would be that he should think of taking the necessary measures."
I was frightened, and I begged Iwán Ignatiitch not to say anything to
the Commandant. With great difficulty I managed to quiet him, and at
last made him promise to hold his tongue, when I left him in peace.
As usual I passed the evening at the Commandant's. I tried to appear
lively and unconcerned in order not to awaken any suspicions, and avoid
any too curious questions. But I confess I had none of the coolness of
which people boast who have found themselves in the same position. All
that evening I felt inclined to be soft-hearted and sentimental.
Marya Ivánofna pleased me more than usual. The thought that perhaps I
was seeing her for the last time gave her, in my eyes, a touching grace.
Chvabrine came in. I took him aside and told him about my interview with
Iwán Ignatiitch.
"Why any seconds?" he said to me, dryly. "We shall do very well without
them."
We decided to fight on the morrow behind the haystacks, at six o'clock
in the morning.
Seeing us talking in such a friendly manner, Iwán Ignatiitch, full of
joy, nearly betrayed us.
"You should have done that long ago," he said to me, with a face of
satisfaction. "Better a hollow peace than an open quarrel."
"What is that you say, Iwán Ignatiitch?" said the Commandant's wife, who
was playing patience in a corner. "I did not exactly catch what you
said."
Iwán Ignatiitch, who saw my face darken, recollected his promise, became
confused, and did not know what to say. Chvabrine came to the rescue.
"Iwán Ignatiitch," said he, "approves of the compact we have made."
"And with whom, my little father, did you quarrel?"
"Why, with Petr' Andréjïtch, to be sure, and we even got to high words."
"What for?"
"About a mere trifle, over a little song."
"Fine thing to quarrel over--a little song! How did it happen?"
"Thus. Petr' Andréjïtch lately composed a song, and he began singing it
to me this morning. So I--I struck up mine, 'Captain's daughter, don't
go abroad at dead of night!' As we did not sing in the same key, Petr'
Andréjïtch became angry. But afterwards he reflected that 'every one is
free to sing what he pleases,' and that's all."
Chvabrine's insolence made me furious, but no one else, except myself,
understood his coarse allusions. Nobody, at least, took up the subject.
From poetry the conversation passed to poets in general, and the
Commandant made the remark that they were all rakes and confirmed
drunkards; he advised me as a friend to give up poetry as a thing
opposed to the service, and leading to no good.
Chvabrine's presence was to me unbearable. I hastened to take leave of
the Commandant and his family. After coming home I looked at my sword; I
tried its point, and I went to bed after ordering Savéliitch to wake me
on the morrow at six o'clock.
On the following day, at the appointed hour, I was already behind the
haystacks, waiting for my foeman. It was not long before he appeared.
"We may be surprised," he said to me; "we must make haste."
We laid aside our uniforms, and in our waistcoats we drew our swords
from the scabbard.
At this moment Iwán Ignatiitch, followed by five pensioners, came out
from behind a heap of hay. He gave us an order to go at once before the
Commandant. We sulkily obeyed. The soldiers surrounded us, and we
followed Iwán Ignatiitch who brought us along in triumph, walking with
a military step, with majestic gravity.
We entered the Commandant's house. Iwán Ignatiitch threw the door wide
open, and exclaimed, emphatically--
"They are taken!"
Vassilissa Igorofna ran to meet us.
"What does all this mean? Plotting assassination in our very fort! Iván
Kouzmitch, put them under arrest at once. Petr' Andréjïtch, Alexey
Iványtch, give up your swords, give them up--give them up. Palashka,
take away the swords to the garret. Petr' Andréjïtch, I did not expect
this of you; aren't you ashamed of yourself? As to Alexey Iványtch, it's
different; he was transferred from the Guard for sending a soul into the
other world. He does not believe in our Lord! But do you wish to do
likewise?"
Iván Kouzmitch approved of all his wife said, repeating--
"Look there, now, Vassilissa Igorofna is quite right--duels are
formally forbidden by martial law."
Palashka had taken away our swords, and had carried them to the garret.
I could not help laughing. Chvabrine looked grave.
"In spite of all the respect I have for you," he said, coolly, to the
Commandant's wife, "I cannot help remarking that you are giving yourself
useless trouble by trying us at your tribunal. Leave this cure do Iván
Kouzmitch--it is his business."
"What! what! my little father!" retorted the Commandant's wife, "are not
husband and wife the same flesh and spirit? Iván Kouzmitch, are you
trifling? Lock them up separately, and keep them on broad and water till
this ridiculous idea goes out of their heads. And Father Garasim shall
make them do penance that they may ask pardon of heaven and of men."
Iván Kouzmitch did not know what to do. Marya Ivánofna was very pale.
Little by little the storm sank. The Commandant's wife became more easy
to deal with. She ordered us to make friends. Palashka brought us back
our swords. We left the house apparently reconciled. Iván Ignatiitch
accompanied us.
"Weren't you ashamed," I said to him, angrily, "thus to denounce us to
the Commandant after giving me your solemn word not to do so?"
"As God is holy," replied he, "I said nothing to Iván Kouzmitch; it was
Vassilissa Igorofna who wormed it all out of me. It was she who took all
the necessary measures unknown to the Commandant. As it is, heaven be
praised that it has all ended in this way."
After this reply he returned to his quarters, and I remained alone with
Chvabrine.
"Our affair can't end thus," I said to him.
"Certainly not," rejoined Chvabrine. "You shall wash out your insolence
in blood. But they will watch us; we must pretend to be friends for a
few days. Good-bye."
And we parted as if nothing had happened.
Upon my return to the Commandant's, I sat down according to my custom by
Marya Ivánofna; her father was not at home, and her mother was engaged
with household cares. We spoke in a low voice Marya Ivánofna reproached
me tenderly for the anxiety my quarrel with Chvabrine had occasioned
her.
"My heart failed me," said she, "when they came to tell us that you were
going to draw swords on each other. How strange men are! For a word
forgotten the next week they are ready to cut each other's throats, and
to sacrifice not only their life, but their honour, and the happiness of
those who--But I am sure it was not you who began the quarrel; it was
Alexey Iványtch who was the aggressor."
"What makes you think so, Marya?"
"Why, because--because he is so sneering. I do not like Alexey Iványtch;
I even dislike him. Yet, all the same, I should not have liked him to
dislike me; it would have made me very uneasy."
"And what do you think, Marya Ivánofna, does he dislike you or no?"
Marya Ivánofna looked disturbed, and grew very red.
"I think," she said, at last, "I think he likes me."
"Why?"
"Because he proposed to me."
"Proposed to you! When?"
"Last year, two months before you came."
"And you did not consent?"
"As you see, Alexey Iványtch is a man of wit, and of good family, to be
sure, well off, too; but only to think of being obliged to kiss him
before everybody under the marriage crown! No, no; nothing in the world
would induce me."
The words of Marya Ivánofna enlightened me, and made many things clear
to me. I understood now why Chvabrine so persistently followed her up.
He had probably observed our mutual attraction, and was trying to detach
us one from another.
The words which had provoked our quarrel seemed to me the more infamous
when, instead of a rude and coarse joke, I saw in them a premeditated
calumny.
The wish to punish the barefaced liar took more entire possession of me,
and I awaited impatiently a favourable moment. I had not to wait long.
On the morrow, just as I was busy composing an elegy, and I was biting
my pen as I searched for a rhyme, Chvabrine tapped at my window. I laid
down the pen, and I took up my sword and left the house.
"Why delay any longer?" said Chvabrine. "They are not watching us any
more. Let us go to the river-bank; there nobody will interrupt us."
We started in silence, and after having gone down a rugged path we
halted at the water's edge and crossed swords.
Chvabrine was a better swordsman than I was, but I was stronger and
bolder, and M. Beaupré, who had, among other things, been a soldier, had
given me some lessons in fencing, by which I had profited.
Chvabrine did not in the least expect to find in me such a dangerous
foeman. For a long while we could neither of us do the other any harm,
but at last, noticing that Chvabrine was getting tired, I vigorously
attacked him, and almost forced him backwards into the river.
Suddenly I heard my own name called in a loud voice. I quickly turned my
head, and saw Savéliitch running towards me down the path. At this
moment I felt a sharp prick in the chest, under the right shoulder, and
I fell senseless.