The old princess awoke at one o'clock the next day. The doctor was
very pleased at her long and sound sleep, the like of which the old
lady had not enjoyed since her first collapse, and which, in his view,
was certain to presage a turn for the better.
The princess had long ago formed a habit of looking over her financial
documents, and verifying the accounts of income and expenditure. This
deep-seated habit, which had become a second nature, did not leave
her, now she was ill; at any rate, every morning, as soon as
consciousness and tranquillity returned to her, she took out the key
of her wardrobe, ordered the strong box to be brought to her, and,
sending the day nurse out of the room, gave herself up in solitude to
her beloved occupation, which had by this time become something like a
childish amusement. She drew out her bank securities, signed and
unsigned, now admiring the colored engravings on them, now sorting and
rearranging them, fingering the packets to feel their thickness,
counting them over, and several thousands in banknotes, kept in the
house in case of need, and finally carefully replaced them in the
strong box. The girl, recalled to the bedroom by the sound of the
bell, restored the strong box to its former place, and the old
princess, after this amusement, felt herself for some time quiet and
happy.
The nurses had had the opportunity to get pretty well used to this
foible; so that the daily examination of the strong box seemed to them
a part of the order of things, something consecrated by custom.
After taking her medicine, and having her hands and face wiped with a
towel moistened with toilet water, the princess ordered certain
prayers to be read out to her, or the chapter of the Gospel appointed
for the day, and then received her son. From the time of her
illness--that is, from the day when she signed the will making him her
sole heir--he had laid it on himself as a not altogether pleasant duty
to put in an appearance for five minutes in his mother's room, where
he showed himself a dutiful son by never mentioning his sister, but
asking tenderly after his mother's health, and finally, with a deep
sigh, gently kissing her hand, taking his departure forthwith, to sup
with some actress or to meet his companions in a wine shop.
When he soon went away, the old lady, as was her habit, ordered her
strong box to be brought, and sent the nurse out of the room. It was a
very handsome box of ebony, with beautiful inlaid work.
The key clicked in the lock, the spring lid sprang up, and the eyes of
the old princess became set in their sockets, full of bewilderment and
terror. Twenty-four thousand rubles in bills, which she herself with
her own hands had yesterday laid on the top of the other securities,
were no longer in the strong box. All the unsigned bank securities
were also gone. The securities in the name of her daughter Anna had
likewise disappeared. There remained only the signed securities in the
name of the old princess and her son, and a few shares of stock. In
the place of all that was gone, there lay a note directed "to Princess
Chechevinski."
The old lady's fingers trembled so that for a long time she could not
unfold this paper. Her staring eyes wandered hither and thither as if
she had lost her senses. At last she managed somehow to unfold the
note, and began to read:
"You cursed me, forced me to flee, and unjustly deprived me of my
inheritance. I am taking my money by force. You may inform the police,
but when you read this note, I myself and he who carried out this act
by my directions, will have left St. Petersburg forever.
"Your daughter,
"PRINCESS ANNA CHECHEVINSKI."
The old lady's hands did not fall at her sides, but shifted about on
her lap as if they did not belong to her. Her wandering, senseless
eyes stopped their movements, and in them suddenly appeared an
expression of deep meaning. The old princess made a terrible,
superhuman effort to recover her presence of mind and regain command
over herself. A single faint groan broke from her breast, and her
teeth chattered. She began to look about the room for a light, but the
lamp had been extinguished; the dull gray daylight filtering through
the Venetian blinds sufficiently lit the room. Then the old lady, with
a strange, irregular movement, crushed the note together in her hand,
placed it in her mouth, and with a convulsive movement of her jaws
chewed it, trying to swallow it as quickly as possible.
A minute passed, and the note had disappeared. The old princess closed
the strong box and rang for the day nurse. Giving her the usual order
in a quiet voice, she had still strength enough to support herself on
her elbow and watch the nurse closing the wardrobe, and then to put
the little bag with the keys back under her pillow, in its accustomed
place. Then she again ordered the nurse to go.
When, two hours later, the doctor, coming for the third time, wished
to see his patient and entered her bedroom, he found only the old
woman's lifeless body. The blow had been too much--the daughter of the
ancient and ever honorable line of Chechevinski a fugitive and a
thief!
Natasha had had her revenge.