then, when her father had given his consent to their marriage in the
autumn, did he disclose his true rank. The old man's face lighted up
with a glow of selfish satisfaction; but Helena quietly took her lover's
hand, and said,--
"Whatever you are, Boris, I will be faithful to you."
VII.
Leaving Boris to discover the exact form and substance of the passion of
love, we will return for a time to the castle of Kinesma.
Whether the Princess Martha conjectured what had transpired in St.
Petersburg, or was partially informed of it by her son, cannot now be
ascertained. She was sufficiently weak, timid, and nervous, to be
troubled with the knowledge of the stratagem in which she had assisted
in order to procure money, and that the ever-present consciousness
thereof would betray itself to the sharp eyes of her husband. Certain it
is, that the demeanor of the latter towards her and his household began
to change about the end of the summer. He seemed to have a haunting
suspicion, that, in some way, he had been, or was about to be,
overreached. He grew peevish, suspicious, and more violent than ever in
his excesses.
When Mishka, the dissipated bear already described, bit off one of the
ears of Basil, a hunter belonging to the castle, and Basil drew his
knife and plunged it into Mishka's heart, Prince Alexis punished the
hunter by cutting off his other ear, and sending him away to a distant
estate. A serf, detected in eating a few of the pickled cherries
intended for the Prince's _botvinia_, was placed in a cask, and pickled
cherries packed around him up to the chin. There he was kept until
almost flayed by the acid. It was ordered that these two delinquents
should never afterwards be called by any other names than "Crop-Ear" and
"Cherry."
But the Prince's severest joke, which, strange to say, in no wise
lessened his popularity among the serfs, occurred a month or two later.
One of his leading passions was the chase,--especially the chase in his
own forests, with from one to two hundred men, and no one to dispute his
Lordship. On such occasions, a huge barrel of wine, mounted upon a sled,
always accompanied the crowd, and the quantity which the hunters
received depended upon the satisfaction of Prince Alexis with the game
they collected.
Winter had set in early and suddenly, and one day, as the Prince and his
retainers emerged from the forest with their forenoon's spoil, and found
themselves on the bank of the Volga, the water was already covered with
a thin sheet of ice. Fires were kindled, a score or two of hares and a
brace of deer were skinned, and the flesh placed on sticks to broil;
skins of mead foamed and hissed into the wooden bowls, and the cask of
unbroached wine towered in the midst. Prince Alexis had a good appetite;
the meal was after his heart; and by the time he had eaten a hare and
half a flank of venison, followed by several bowls of fiery wine, he was
in the humor for sport. He ordered a hole cut in the upper side of the
barrel, as it lay; then, getting astride of it, like a grisly Bacchus,
he dipped out the liquor with a ladle, and plied his thirsty serfs until
they became as recklessly savage as he.
They were scattered over a slope gently falling from the dark, dense
fir-forest towards the Volga, where it terminated in a rocky palisade,
ten to fifteen feet in height. The fires blazed and crackled merrily in
the frosty air; the yells and songs of the carousers were echoed back
from the opposite shore of the river. The chill atmosphere, the lowering
sky, and the approaching night could not touch the blood of that wild
crowd. Their faces glowed and their eyes sparkled; they were ready for
any deviltry which their lord might suggest.
Some began to amuse themselves by flinging the clean-picked bones of
deer and hare along the glassy ice of the Volga. Prince Alexis,
perceiving this diversion, cried out in ecstasy,--
"Oh, by St. Nicholas the Miracle-Worker, I'll give you better sport than
that, ye knaves! Here's the very place for a _reisak_,--do you hear me,
children?--a _reisak_! Could there be better ice? and then the rocks to
jump from! Come, children, come! Waska, Ivan, Daniel, you dogs, over
with you!"
Now the _reisak_ was a gymnastic performance peculiar to old Russia, and
therefore needs to be described. It could become popular only among a
people of strong physical qualities, and in a country where swift rivers
freeze rapidly from sudden cold. Hence we are of the opinion that it
will not be introduced into our own winter diversions. A spot is
selected where the water is deep and the current tolerably strong; the
ice must be about half an inch in thickness. The performer leaps head
foremost from a rock or platform, bursts through the ice, is carried
under by the current, comes up some distance below, and bursts through
again. Both skill and strength are required to do the feat successfully.
Waska, Ivan, Daniel, and a number of others, sprang to the brink of the
rocks and looked over. The wall was not quite perpendicular, some large
fragments having fallen from above and lodged along the base. It would
therefore require a bold leap to clear the rocks and strike the smooth
ice. They hesitated,--and no wonder.
Prince Alexis howled with rage and disappointment.
"The Devil take you, for a pack of whimpering hounds!" he cried. "Holy
Saints! they are afraid to make a _reisak_!"
Ivan crossed himself, and sprang. He cleared the rocks, but, instead of
bursting through the ice with his head, fell at full length upon his
back.
"O knave!" yelled the Prince--"not to know where his head is! Thinks
it's his back! Give him fifteen stripes."
Which was instantly done.
The second attempt was partially successful. One of the hunters broke
through the ice, head foremost, going down, but he failed to come up
again; so the feat was only half performed.
The Prince became more furiously excited.
"This is the way I'm treated!" he cried. "He forgets all about finishing
the _reisak_, and goes to chasing sterlet! May the carps eat him up for
an ungrateful vagabond! Here, you beggars!" (addressing the poor
relations,) "take your turn, and let me see whether you are men."
Only one of the frightened parasites had the courage to obey. On
reaching the brink, he shut his eyes in mortal fear, and made a leap at
random. The next moment he lay on the edge of the ice with one leg
broken against a fragment of rock.
This capped the climax of the Prince's wrath. He fell into a state
bordering on despair, tore his hair, gnashed his teeth, and wept
bitterly.
"They will be the death of me!" was his lament. "Not a man among them!
It wasn't so in the old times. Such beautiful _reisaks_ as I have seen!
But the people are becoming women,--hares,--chickens,--skunks! Villains,
will you force me to kill you? You have dishonored and disgraced me; I
am ashamed to look my neighbors in the face. Was ever a man so treated?"
The serfs hung down their heads, feeling somehow responsible for their
master's misery. Some of them wept, out of a stupid sympathy with his
tears.
All at once he sprang down from the cask, crying in a gay, triumphant
tone,--
"I have it! Bring me Crop-Ear. He's the fellow for a _reisak_,--he can
make three, one after another."
One of the boldest ventured to suggest that Crop-Ear had been sent away
in disgrace to another of the Prince's estates.
"Bring him here, I say! Take horses, and don't draw rein going or
coming. I will not stir from this spot until Crop-Ear comes."
With these words, he mounted the barrel, and recommenced ladling out the
wine. Huge fires were made, for the night was falling, and the cold had
become intense. Fresh game was skewered and set to broil, and the tragic
interlude of the revel was soon forgotten.
Towards midnight the sound of hoofs was heard, and the messengers
arrived with Crop-Ear. But, although the latter had lost his ears, he
was not inclined to split his head. The ice, meanwhile, had become so
strong that a cannon-ball would have made no impression upon it.
Crop-Ear simply threw down a stone heavier than himself, and, as it
bounced and slid along the solid floor, said to Prince Alexis,--
"Am I to go back, Highness, or stay here?"
"Here, my son. Thou'rt a man. Come hither to me."
Taking the serf's head in his hands, he kissed him on both cheeks. Then
he rode homeward through the dark, iron woods, seated astride on the
barrel, and steadying himself with his arms around Crop-Ear's and
Waska's necks.
VIII.
The health of the Princess Martha, always delicate, now began to fail
rapidly. She was less and less able to endure her husband's savage
humors, and lived almost exclusively in her own apartments. She never
mentioned the name of Boris in his presence, for it was sure to throw
him into a paroxysm of fury. Floating rumors in regard to the young
Prince had reached him from the capital, and nothing would convince him
that his wife was not cognizant of her son's doings. The poor Princess
clung to her boy as to all that was left her of life, and tried to prop
her failing strength with the hope of his speedy return. She was now too
helpless to thwart his wishes in any way; but she dreaded, more than
death, the terrible _something_ which would surely take place between
father and son, if her conjectures should prove to be true.
One day, in the early part of November, she received a letter from
Boris, announcing his marriage. She had barely strength and presence of
mind enough to conceal the paper in her bosom before sinking in a swoon.
By some means or other the young Prince had succeeded in overcoming all
the obstacles to such a step: probably the favor of the Empress was
courted, in order to obtain her consent. The money he had received, he
wrote, would be sufficient to maintain them for a few months, though not
in a style befitting their rank. He was proud and happy; the Princess
Helena would be the reigning beauty of the court, when he should present
her, but he desired the sanction of his parents to the marriage, before
taking his place in society. He would write immediately to his father,
and hoped, that, if the news brought a storm, Mishka might be on hand to
divert its force, as on a former occasion.
Under the weight of this imminent secret, the Princess Martha could
neither eat nor sleep. Her body wasted to a shadow; at every noise in
the castle, she started and listened in terror, fearing that the news
had arrived.
Prince Boris, no doubt, found his courage fail him, when he set about
writing the promised letter; for a fortnight elapsed before it made its
appearance. Prince Alexis received it on his return from the chase. He
read it hastily through, uttered a prolonged roar like that of a wounded
bull, and rushed into the castle. The sound of breaking furniture, of
crashing porcelain and shivered glass, came from the state apartments;
the domestics fell on their knees and prayed; the Princess, who heard
the noise and knew what it portended, became almost insensible from
fright.
One of the upper servants entered a chamber as the Prince was in the act
of demolishing a splendid malachite table, which had escaped all his
previous attacks. He was immediately greeted with a cry of,--
"Send the Princess to me!"
"Her Highness is not able to leave her chamber," the man replied.
How it happened he could never afterwards describe, but he found himself
lying in a corner of the room. When he arose, there seemed to be a
singular cavity in his mouth: his upper front teeth were wanting.
We will not narrate what took place in the chamber of the Princess. The
nerves of the unfortunate woman had been so wrought upon by her fears,
that her husband's brutal rage, familiar to her from long experience,
now possessed a new and alarming significance. His threats were terrible
to hear; she fell into convulsions, and before morning her tormented
life was at an end.
There was now something else to think of, and the smashing of porcelain
and cracking of whips came to an end. The Archimandrite was summoned,
and preparations, both religious and secular, were made for a funeral
worthy the rank of the deceased. Thousands flocked to Kinesma; and when
the immense procession moved away from the castle, although very few of
the persons had ever known or cared in the least for the Princess
Martha, all, without exception, shed profuse tears. Yes, there was one
exception,--one bare, dry rock, rising alone out of the universal
deluge,--Prince Alexis himself, who walked behind the coffin, his eyes
fixed and his features rigid as stone. They remarked that his face was
haggard, and that the fiery tinge on his cheeks and nose had faded into
livid purple. The only sign of emotion which he gave was a convulsive
shudder, which from time to time passed over his whole body.
Three archimandrites (abbots) and one hundred priests headed the solemn
funeral procession from the castle to the church on the opposite hill.
There the mass for the dead was chanted, the responses being sung by a
choir of silvery boyish voices. All the appointments were of the
costliest character. Not only all those within the church, but the
thousands outside, spared not their tears, but wept until the fountains
were exhausted. Notice was given, at the close of the services, that
"baked meats" would be furnished to the multitude, and that all beggars
who came to Kinesma would be charitably fed for the space of six weeks.
Thus, by her death, the amiable Princess Martha was enabled to dispense
more charity than had been permitted to her life.
At the funeral banquet which followed, Prince Alexis placed the Abbot
Sergius at his right hand, and conversed with him in the most edifying
manner upon the necessity of leading a pure and godly life. His remarks
upon the duty of a Christian, upon brotherly love, humility, and
self-sacrifice, brought tears into the eyes of the listening priests. He
expressed his conviction that the departed Princess, by the piety of her
life, had attained unto salvation,--and added, that his own life had now
no further value, unless he should devote it to religious exercises.
"Can you not give me a place in your monastery?" he asked, turning to
the Abbot. "I will endow it with a gift of forty thousand rubles, for
the privilege of occupying a monk's cell."
"Pray, do not decide too hastily, Highness," the Abbot replied. "You
have yet a son."
"What!" yelled Prince Alexis, with flashing eyes, every trace of
humility and renunciation vanishing like smoke,--"what! Borka? The
infamous wretch who has ruined me, killed his mother, and brought
disgrace upon our name? Do you know that he has married a wench of no
family and without a farthing,--who would be honored, if I should allow
her to feed my hogs? Live for _him?_ live for _him?_ Ah-z-z-z!"
This outbreak terminated in a sound between a snarl and a bellow. The
priests turned pale, but the Abbot devoutly remarked,--
"Encompassed by sorrows, Prince, you should humbly submit to the will of
the Lord."
"Submit to Borka?" the Prince scornfully laughed. "I know what I'll do.
There's time enough yet for a wife and another child,--ay, a dozen
children! I can have my pick in the province; and if I couldn't, I'd
sooner take Masha, the goose-girl, than leave Borka the hope of stepping
into my shoes. Beggars they shall be,--beggars!"
What further he might have said was interrupted by the priests rising to
chant the _Blajennon uspennie_, (Blessed be the dead,)--after which, the
_trisna_, a drink composed of mead, wine, and rum, was emptied to the
health of the departed soul. Every one stood during this ceremony,
except Prince Alexis, who fell suddenly prostrate before the consecrated
pictures, and sobbed so passionately that the tears of the guests flowed
for the third time. There he lay until night; for whenever any one dared
to touch him, he struck out furiously with fists and feet. Finally he
fell asleep on the floor, and the servants then bore him to his sleeping
apartment.
For several days afterward his grief continued to be so violent that
the occupants of the castle were obliged to keep out of his way. The
whip was never out of his hand, and he used it very recklessly, not
always selecting the right person. The parasitic poor relations found
their situation so uncomfortable, that they decided, one and all, to
detach themselves from the tree upon which they fed and fattened, even
at the risk of withering on a barren soil. Night and morning the serfs
prayed upon their knees, with many tears and groans, that the Saints
might send consolation, in any form, to their desperate lord.
The Saints graciously heard and answered the prayer. Word came that a
huge bear had been seen in the forest stretching towards Juriewetz. The
sorrowing Prince pricked up his ears, threw down his whip, and ordered a
chase. Sasha, the broad-shouldered, the cunning, the ready, the untiring
companion of his master, secretly ordered a cask of vodki to follow the
crowd of hunters and serfs. There was a steel-bright sky, a low, yellow
sun, and a brisk easterly wind from the heights of the Ural. As the
crisp snow began to crunch under the Prince's sled, his followers saw
the old expression come back to his face. With song and halloo and blast
of horns, they swept away into the forest.
Saint John the Hunter must have been on guard over Russia that day. The
great bear was tracked, and, after a long and exciting chase, fell by
the hand of Prince Alexis himself. Halt was made in an open space in the
forest, logs were piled together and kindled on the snow, and just at
the right moment (which no one knew better than Sasha) the cask of vodki
rolled into its place.
When the serfs saw the Prince mount astride of it, with his ladle in his
hand, they burst into shouts of extravagant joy. "_Slava Bogu!_" (Glory
be to God!) came fervently from the bearded lips of those hard, rough,
obedient children. They tumbled headlong over each other, in their
efforts to drink first from the ladle, to clasp the knees or kiss the
hands of the restored Prince. And the dawn was glimmering against the
eastern stars, as they took the way to the castle, making the ghostly
fir-woods ring with shout and choric song, Nevertheless, Prince Alexis
was no longer the same man: his giant strength and furious appetite were
broken. He was ever ready, as formerly, for the chase and the
drinking-bout; but his jovial mood no longer grew into a crisis which
only utter physical exhaustion or the stupidity of drunkenness could
overcome. Frequently, while astride the cask, his shouts of laughter
would suddenly cease, the ladle would drop from his hand, and he would
sit motionless, staring into vacancy for five minutes at a time. Then
the serfs, too, became silent, and stood still, awaiting a change. The
gloomy mood passed away as suddenly. He would start, look about him, and
say, in a melancholy voice,--
"Have I frightened you, my children? It seems to me that I am getting
old. Ah, yes, we must all die, one day. But we need not think about it,
until the time comes. The Devil take me for putting it into my head!
Why, how now? can't you sing, children?" Then he would strike up some
ditty which they all knew: a hundred voices joined in the strain, and
the hills once more rang with revelry.
Since the day when Princess Martha was buried, the Prince had not again
spoken of marriage. No one, of course, dared to mention the name of
Boris in his presence.
IX.
The young Prince had, in reality, become the happy husband of Helena.
His love for her had grown to be a shaping and organizing influence,
without which his nature would have fallen into its former confusion. If
a thought of a less honorable relation had ever entered his mind, it was
presently banished by the respect which a nearer intimacy inspired; and
thus Helena, magnetically drawing to the surface only his best
qualities, loved, unconsciously to herself, her own work in him. Erelong
she saw that she might balance the advantages he had conferred upon her
in their marriage by the support and encouragement which she was able to
impart to him; and this knowledge, removing all painful sense of
obligation, made her both happy and secure in her new position.
The Princess Martha, under some presentiment of her approaching death,
had intrusted one of the ladies in attendance upon her with the secret
of her son's marriage, and such presents of money and jewelry as she was
able to procure without her husband's knowledge. These presents reached
Boris very opportunely; for, although Helena developed a wonderful skill
in regulating his expenses, the spring was approaching, and even the
limited circle of society in which they had moved during the gay season
had made heavy demands upon his purse. He became restless and
abstracted, until his wife, who by this time clearly comprehended the
nature of his trouble, had secretly decided how it must be met.
The slender hoard of the old music-master, with a few thousand rubles
from Prince Boris, sufficed for his modest maintenance. Being now free
from the charge of his daughter, he determined to visit Germany, and, if
circumstances were propitious, to secure a refuge for his old age in his
favorite Leipsic. Summer was at hand, and the court had already removed
to Oranienbaum. In a few weeks the capital would be deserted.
"Shall we go to Germany with your father?" asked Boris, as he sat at a
window with Helena, enjoying the long twilight.
"No, my Boris," she answered; "we will go to Kinesma."
"But--Helena,--_golubchik_,--_mon ange_,--are you in earnest?"
"Yes, my Boris. The last letter from your--our cousin Nadejda convinces
me that the step must be taken. Prince Alexis has grown much older since
your mother's death; he is lonely and unhappy. He may not welcome us,
but long he will surely suffer us to come to him; and we must then begin
the work of reconciliation. Reflect, my Boris, you have keenly wounded
him in the tenderest part,--his pride,--and you must therefore cast away
your own pride, and humbly and respectfully, as becomes a son, solicit
his pardon."
"Yes," said he, hesitatingly, "you are right. But I know his violence
and recklessness, as you do not. For myself, alone, I am willing to meet
him; yet I fear for your sake. Would you not tremble to encounter a
maddened and brutal _mujik_?--then how much more to meet Alexis
Pavlovitch of Kinesma!"
"I do not and shall not tremble," she replied. "It is not your marriage
that has estranged your father, but your marriage with _me_. Having
been, unconsciously, the cause of the trouble, I shall deliberately, and
as a sacred duty, attempt to remove it. Let us go to Kinesma, as humble,
penitent children, and cast ourselves upon your father's mercy. At the
worst, he can but reject us; and you will have given me the consolation
of knowing that I have tried, as your wife, to annul the sacrifice you
have made for my sake."
"Be it so, then!" cried Boris, with a mingled feeling of relief and
anxiety.
He was not unwilling that the attempt should be made, especially since
it was his wife's desire; but he knew his father too well to anticipate
immediate success. All threatening _possibilities_ suggested themselves
to his mind; all forms of insult and outrage which he had seen
perpetrated at Kinesma filled his memory. The suspense became at last
worse than any probable reality. He wrote to his father, announcing a
speedy visit from himself and his wife; and two days afterwards the pair
left St. Petersburg in a large travelling _kibitka_.
X.
When Prince Alexis received his son's letter, an expression of fierce,
cruel delight crept over his face, and there remained, horribly
illuminating its haggard features. The orders given for swimming horses
in the Volga--one of his summer diversions--were immediately
countermanded; he paced around the parapet of the castle-wall until near
midnight, followed by Sasha with a stone jug of vodki. The latter had
the useful habit, notwithstanding his stupid face, of picking up the
fragments of soliloquy which the Prince dropped, and answering them as
if talking to himself. Thus he improved upon and perfected many a hint
of cruelty and was too discreet ever to dispute his master's claim to
the invention.
Sasha, we may be sure, was busy with his devil's work that night. The
next morning the stewards and agents of Prince Alexis, in castle,
village, and field, were summoned to his presence.