The beginning of the war dragged. There was little fighting, for the
Russian generals adopted the policy of retiring constantly before the
enemy's advance, apparently afraid to stand their ground, but actually
luring him intentionally onward, deeper and deeper, into the immense
spaces of the interior. By these tactics a constantly diminishing French
force opposed a Russian army whose numbers augmented daily in spite of
the leakage resulting from illness and small engagements.
In one of the earlier battles young Sasha Maximof received a bullet in
the left arm, and being incapacitated for a while from active service
was employed by the general to carry to Moscow the latest manifesto of
the Tsar, and to superintend the raising of reinforcements demanded in
that document by his Majesty.
The manifesto was as follows:--
"TO OUR ANCIENT CITY AND METROPOLIS OF MOSCOW:
"The Enemy, with unparalleled perfidy and a force equal to
his boundless ambition, has entered the frontiers of Russia. His
design is the ruin of our country. The Russian armies burn to throw
themselves upon his battalions....
"Necessity commands that we should assemble a new force in the
interior to support that which is now face to face with the enemy.
To collect this new army we now address ourself to the Ancient
Capital of our Ancestors: to Moscow, the sovereign city of all the
Russians....
"The security of our Holy Church, the safety of the Throne of
the Tsars, the independence of the Ancient Muscovite Empire all
demand that the object of this appeal be regarded by our subjects
as a Sacred Decree....
"The ills which this treacherous invader has prepared for us
shall fall upon his own head. Europe, delivered from vassalage,
shall celebrate the name of Russia!
"ALEXANDER.
"GIVEN AT OUR CAMP AT POLOTSK, 6, 7, 1812."
The Countess Maximof presently received a letter from a relative in
Moscow. "Come quickly," her cousin wrote; "you are the favoured of
fortune; Sasha has arrived, slightly wounded--do not be afraid, it
is a mere bagatelle, a bullet scratch in the left arm; he is busy
recruiting--a very important billet, my dear, and the appointment is the
highest compliment to so young a man! Sasha is too busy to write, but he
begs me to say that he hopes to see you here, and also--if she is with
you--Vera Demidof, who has of course returned from Paris." The Countess
went straight to Vera with her letter.
"You will come, _chérie_--do not refuse--give him this pleasure; only
think, he is wounded; one of the first to bleed for our dear Russia; he
is wounded and will soon go back to the front--you will not refuse his
request."
"Oh, I will come," Vera laughed, "if only to prove to you, Madame, that
Alexander Petrovitch and myself shall need but one interview to assure
ourselves that neither is anxious to be bound by the foolish betrothal
of a dozen years ago!"
"Well, we shall see, we shall see; meanwhile you will come, and that
is good. We shall travel in my own Dormese; in three days we shall be
in Moscow. We shall not journey by night, for I would have you look
your sweetest when Sasha sees you; poor lad, he will not be at his
best--wounded and perhaps ill with fever; you will remember that when
you see him!"
"I will remember that he has already bled for Russia, that will mean
more for me than the colour of his cheeks," said Vera.
"That is a wise saying, _chérie_; good, I like it; yes, remember that he
is a good Russian."
Vera was not long in Moscow before Sasha Maximof presented himself. He
came with his arm in a sling, pale and looking many years older than
when Vera last saw him. His face was certainly a handsome one, and
much of its present pallor was lost in the blush which spread over his
features as he took Vera's hand and bent over it.
"My mother did not exaggerate," he said, gazing at the girl with
undisguised admiration. "I thought--three years ago, is it?--that you
would grow into a handsome girl, but by the Saints, Vera, I did not
anticipate--this!"
"So you have 'eschewed the follies of cadetdom,'" laughed Vera, quoting
Sasha's late letter to her in Paris. "What does that mean, pray?"
"You quote imperfectly," Sasha blushed again. "I wrote, 'my heart is
disengaged, and I have eschewed the follies of cadetdom'. You must know
what I mean by the follies of my cadet-period, for assuredly there could
scarcely have existed upon this earth a more objectionable person than I
was in those days."
"You had, if I remember rightly," said Vera, "a very fair opinion of
yourself; you refused to know me because I was too young."
"I am prepared to make amends," Sasha laughed. "Please do all your
fault-finding at once, in order that my repentance may be complete. I
know I was a conceited young cub and treated you abominably. What is
your next grievance?"
"A very much more serious one. Your memory is so good that you will not
have forgotten a certain conversation when we parted three years ago."
"I think I remember every word of it; I have often thought of it."
"Is that so?" asked Vera in surprise. "Why?"
"Honestly, because you looked so pretty that day and showed so much
spirit that I was surprised into liking you better than I thought. I
realised this afterwards. I suppose I am a person of strong imagination,
because from time to time, recalling that interview, I have felt that
sense of 'like' almost deepen into 'love'."
"Oh!" Vera laughed; "but that could only have been after your heart
became disengaged; do not forget, _mon ami_, that when we parted your
heart was far from being disengaged."
"I thought so; but one makes mistakes about such things. At any rate I
got over that--that foolish business. Am I forgiven all these juvenile
sins?"
"But there is nothing in the last confession which concerns me. What
have I to forgive in the circumstance that you were once in love with
some one unknown, and 'got over it'?"
Sasha winced.
"Of course that was nothing to you," he said.
"Absolutely. But with regard to that same conversation, I have a
grievance and a serious one, as I hinted before. We came to an
agreement, I remember, with regard to a certain foolish contract entered
into by our parents on our behalf. You were to destroy it, by mutual
consent. You did not do so, as I learned for the first time but a few
months ago."
"Honestly, Vera, the notary said it could not be destroyed but in the
presence of, and by sworn consent of, both. The priests, too, declare
that the sanction of the metropolitan is necessary."
"You should not have asked them. You had undertaken to tear up the
foolish thing. That would have sufficed for us. Why did you ask advice?"
"I see that you will have the whole truth. I stupidly thought that by
retaining the contract I retained also a kind of hold upon you. Of
course, on reconsideration----"
"Yes, of course that is nonsense. I will tell you, my friend, that
contract or no contract, I should never dream of marrying any man
against my own will and desire. Your action makes no difference, but it
was foolish and not quite honest. It is better that we should understand
one another from the beginning."
"Yes, that is true. Will you do me a kindness, Vera? You say that it is
better that we should understand one another. It might save me much pain
if you were to tell me now, before it is quite too late, whether you
have left Paris as heart free as you entered it?"
Vera flushed crimson.
"By what right am I thus catechised?" she asked angrily. "Is it by
virtue of the contract you so dishonestly retained? or do you consider
that I am bound to give you my confidence because you have been so good
as to lay bare your heart for my entertainment? Neither is a sufficient
reason, sir."
"You are very hard on me, Vera," Maximof sighed. "What you have implied
might have been conveyed to me less harshly. Well, thank you for
letting me know what I wished to know." He paused. "With regard to our
intercourse here in Moscow, I shall be very busy and--well, I may as
well speak to you frankly while I am about it, I fancy it would be too
dangerous for me to see much of you. Good-bye--oh, as to this thing----"
Sasha produced a pocket-book and took from it an oldish paper. "At any
rate you shall be worried no longer by the whim of our parents!" He
opened the door of the stove and threw the betrothal contract within;
then he lit a match and applied it to an edge of the document which was
soon in flames.
"So ends a foolish comedy that might have developed into a pretty
romance!" said Maximof, laughing bitterly. "Farewell, Vera Danilovna. I
wish to God you had not lived these three years in Paris!" At the door
he turned and spoke again.
"Of course I don't blame you, but it's hard on me that you should have
grown so--so maddeningly pretty." Maximof repeated his loud laugh and
departed.
Vera sighed. "I ought to have known you before, my friend," she thought;
"before--before Paul! But after all, the gulf between Paul and me is
wide enough!"