Sashka, tightening his girdle, was waiting for the horses to be harnessed,
but was anxious to go first and get the count's cloak, which, with the
collar, must have been worth three hundred rubles, and return that
miserable blue-lined shuba to that rascally man who had exchanged with the
count at the marshal's. But Turbin said that it was not necessary, and went
to his room to change his clothes.
The cavalryman kept hiccoughing as he sat silently by his gypsy maiden. The
isprávnik called for vodka, and invited all the gentlemen to come and
breakfast with him, promising them that his wife would, without fail, dance
the national dance with the gypsies.
The handsome young man was earnestly arguing with Ilyushka that there was
more soul in the piano-forte, and that it was impossible to take B-flat on
the guitar. The chinovnik was gloomily drinking tea in one corner, and
apparently the daylight made him feel ashamed of his dissipation.
The gypsies were conversing together in Romany, and urging that they should
once more enliven the gentlemen; to which Stioshka objected, declaring that
it would only vex the _barorai_,--that is, in Romany, count or prince, or
rather great bárin.
For the most part, the last spark of the orgy was dying out.
"Well, then, one more song for a farewell, and then home with you,"
exclaimed the count, fresh, gay, and radiant above all the others, as he
came into the room ready dressed in his travelling suit.
The gypsies had again formed their circle, and were just getting ready to
sing, when Ilyin came in with a package of bank-notes in his hand, and drew
the count to one side.
"I had only fifteen thousand rubles of public money, but you gave me
sixteen thousand three hundred," said the uhlan; "this is yours, of
course."
"That's a fine arrangement. Let me have it."
Ilyin handed him the money, looking timidly at the count, and opened his
mouth to say something; but then he reddened so painfully that the tears
came into his eyes, and he seized the count's hand, and began to squeeze
it.
"Away with you, Ilyushka ... listen to me! Now, here's your money, but you
must accompany me with your songs to the city limits!" And he threw on his
guitar the thirteen hundred rubles which Ilyin had brought him. But the
count had forgotten to repay the cavalryman the one hundred rubles which he
had borrowed of him the evening before.
It was now ten o'clock in the morning. The little sun was rising above the
housetops, the streets were beginning to fill with people, the merchants
had long ago opened their shops, nobles and chinovniks were riding up and
down through the streets, and ladies were out shopping, when the band of
gypsies, the isprávnik, the cavalryman, the handsome young fellow, Ilyin,
and the count who was wrapped up in his blue-lined bear-skin shuba, came
out on the door-steps of the hotel.
It was a sunny day, and it thawed. Three hired tróïkas, with their tails
knotted, and splashing through the liquid mud, pranced up to the steps; and
the whole jolly company prepared to take their places. The count, Ilyin,
Stioshka, Ilyushka, and Sashka the count's man,[70] mounted the first
sledge.
[Footnote 70: _denshchik._]
Blücher was beside himself with delight, and, wagging his tail, barked at
the shaft-horse.
The other gentlemen, together with the gypsies, men and women, climbed into
the other sledges. From the very hotel the sledges flew off side by side,
and the gypsies set up a merry chorus and song.
The tróïkas, with the songs and jingling bells, dashed through the whole
length of the city to the gates, compelling all the equipages which they
met to rein up on the very sidewalks.
Merchants and passers-by who did not know them, and especially those who
did, were filled with astonishment to see nobles of high rank, in the midst
of "the white day," dashing through the streets with intoxicated gypsies,
singing at the tops of their voices.
When they reached the city limits, the tróïkas stopped, and all the party
took farewell of the count.
Ilyin, who had drunk considerable at the leave-taking, and had all the time
been driving the horses, suddenly became melancholy, and began to urge the
count to stay just one day more; but when he was assured that this was
impossible, quite unexpectedly threw himself into his arms, and began to
kiss his new friend, and promised him that as soon as he got to camp, he
would petition to be transferred into the regiment of hussars in which
Count Turbin served.
The count was extraordinarily hilarious; he tipped into a snow-drift the
cavalryman, who, since morning, had definitely taken to saying _thou_ to
him; he set Blücher on the isprávnik; he took Stioshka into his arms, and
threatened to carry her off with him to Moscow; but at last he tucked
himself into the sledge, and stationed Blücher by his side, who was always
ready to ride. Sashka took his place on the box, after once more asking the
cavalryman to secure the count's cloak from _them_, and to send it to him.
The count cried "Go on,"[71] took off his cap, waved it over his head, and
whistled in post-boy fashion to the horses. The tróïkas parted company.
[Footnote 71: _próshol._]
As far as the eye could see, stretched a monotonous snow-covered plain,
over which wound the yellowish muddy ribbon of the road.
The bright sunlight, dancing, glistened on the melting snow, which was
covered with a thin crust of transparent ice, and pleasantly warmed the
face and back.
The steam arose from the sweaty horses. The bells jingled.
A peasant[72] with a creaking sledge, heavily loaded, slowly turned out
into the slushy snow, twitching his hempen reins, and tramping with his
well-soaked sabots.[73]
[Footnote 72: _muzhík._]
[Footnote 73: _lapti._]
A stout, handsome peasant woman, with a child wrapped in a sheep-skin on
her lap, who was seated on another load, used the end of her reins to whip
up a white mangy-tailed old nag.
Suddenly the count remembered Anna Fedorovna.
"Turn round!" he cried.
The driver did not understand.
"Turn round and drive back; back to the city! Be quick about it." The
tróïka again passed the city gate, and quickly drew up in front of the
boarded steps of the Zaïtsova dwelling.
The count briskly mounted the steps, passed through the vestibule and the
parlor, and finding the widow still asleep he took her in his arms, lifting
her from her bed, and kissed her sleeping eyes again and again, and then
darted back to the sledge.