It was nine o'clock in the evening. Natasha lit the night lamp in the
bedroom of the old Princess Chechevinski, and went silently into the
dressing room to prepare the soothing powders which the doctors had
prescribed for her, before going to sleep.
The old princess was still very weak. Although her periods of
unconsciousness had not returned, she was still subject to paroxysms
of hysteria. At times she sank into forgetfulness, then started
nervously, sometimes trembling in every limb. The thought of the blow
of her daughter's flight never left her for a moment.
Natasha had just taken the place of the day nurse. It was her turn to
wait on the patient until midnight. Silence always reigned in the
house of the princess, and now that she was ill the silence was
intensified tenfold. Everyone walked on tiptoe, and spoke in whispers,
afraid even of coughing or of clinking a teaspoon on the sideboard.
The doorbells were tied in towels, and the whole street in front of
the house was thickly strewn with straw. At ten the household was
already dispersed, and preparing for sleep. Only the nurse sat
silently at the head of the old lady's bed.
Pouring out half a glass of water, Natasha sprinkled the powder in it,
and took from the medicine chest a phial with a yellowish liquid. It
was chloral. Looking carefully round, she slowly brought the lip of
the phial down to the edge of the glass and let ten drops fall into
it. "That will be enough," she said to herself, and smiled. Her face,
as always, was coldly quiet, and not the slightest shade of any
feeling was visible on it at that moment.
Natasha propped the old lady up with her arm. She drank the medicine
given to her and lay down again, and in a few minutes the chloral
began to have its effect. With an occasional convulsive movement of
her lower lip, she sank into a deep and heavy sleep. Natasha watched
her face following the symptoms of unconsciousness, and when she was
convinced that sleep had finally taken complete possession of her, and
that for several hours the old woman was deprived of the power to hear
anything or to wake up, she slowly moved her chair nearer the
bedstead, and without taking her quietly observant eyes from the old
woman's face, softly slipped her hand under the lower pillow. Moving
forward with the utmost care, not more than an inch or so at a time,
her hand stopped instantly, as soon as there was the slightest nervous
movement of the old woman's face, on which Natasha's eyes were fixed
immovably. But the old woman slept profoundly, and the hand again
moved forward half an inch or so under the pillow. About half an hour
passed, and the girl's eyes were still fastened on the sleeping face,
and her hand was still slipping forward under the pillow, moving
occasionally a little to one side, and feeling about for something.
Natasha's expression was in the highest degree quiet and concentrated,
but under this quietness was at the same time concealed something
else, which gave the impression that if--which Heaven forbid!--the old
woman should at that moment awake, the other free hand would instantly
seize her by the throat.
At last the finger-ends felt something hard. "That is it!" thought
Natasha, and she held her breath. In a moment, seizing its treasure,
her hand began quietly to withdraw. Ten minutes more passed, and
Natasha finally drew out a little bag of various colored silks, in
which the old princess always kept her keys, and from which she never
parted, carrying it by day in her pocket, and by night keeping it
under her pillow. One of the keys was an ordinary one, that of her
wardrobe. The other was smaller and finely made; it was the key of her
strong box.
About an hour later, the same keys, in the same order, and with the
same precautions, found their way back to their accustomed place under
the old lady's pillow.
Natasha carefully wiped the glass with her handkerchief, in order that
not the least odor of chloral might remain in it, and with her usual
stillness sat out the remaining hours of her watch.