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COUNT TOLSTOI'S WORKS. 
 
 ANNA KAR§NINA $1.75 
 
 CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, AND YOUTH . 1.50 
 
 IVAN ILYITCH 1.25 
 
 MY RELIGION 1.00 
 
 MY CONFESSION 1.00 
 
 WHAT TO DO? 1.25 
 
 THE INVADERS I 25 
 
 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR 150 
 
 THOMAS Y CROWELL &. CO., 
 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. 
 
RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR 
 
 OTHER STORIES 
 
 BY 
 COUNT LYOF N. TOLSTOI 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN 
 
 BY 
 
 NATHAN HASKELL DOLE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
 13 ASTOR PLACE 
 
PRESERVATION 
 COPY ADDED 
 ORIGINAL TO BE 
 RETAINED 
 
 APR 2 6 1994 
 
 CopYniQHT, 1887, 
 By THOMAS Y. C'KOWELL & CO. 
 
 RAND AVERY COMPANY, 
 
 ELECTROTYPERS AND PRINTERS, 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 

 PEEFACE. 
 
 TnE following tales are, with one exception, taken 
 from the second volume of Count L. N. Tolstoi's 
 collected works, and are representative of his literary 
 activity between 1852 and 1859. 
 
 The first story, though only a fragment of a pro- 
 jected novel to be called "A Russian Proprietor," is 
 perfect and complete in itself. One cannot help feel- 
 ing that it is autobiographical ; Count Tolstoi' himself, 
 it will be remembered, having suddenly quitted the 
 University of Kazan, in spite of the entreaties of his 
 friends, and retired to his paternal estate of Yasnaya 
 Polyana, near Tula. The aunt whose letter is quoted 
 in the first chapter must have been Count Tolstoi's 
 aunt, mentioned in the second chapter of " My Con- 
 fession." 
 
 The "Recollections of a Scorer" and " Two Hus- 
 sars " are both evidently reminiscent of Count Tolstoi's 
 gambling-days. Both must have been suggested by 
 some such terrible experience as that told of the 
 count's gambling-debt in the Caucasus. 
 
 "Lucerne" and "Albert" are likewise evidently 
 transcripts from the author's own experience. The 
 strange benefactor in each, and the shadowy Prince 
 Nekhliudof , are all Count Tolstoi in phases quite dis- 
 tinct from what he is at present. 
 
Vi rREFACI 
 
 "The Three Deaths," written in 1859, has little of 
 the sombre power of "Ivan Ilyitch." The scalpel 
 which was so remorselessly applied to the soul in the 
 latter is wholly hidden. It is realism pure and simple ; 
 and the contrast between the death of the peasant and 
 of the lady is left to inference, made all the stronger 
 by the unexpected and grandiose finale in the death of 
 the tree. 
 
 In interesting contrast to these characteristic stories 
 is the little gem entitled " A Prisoner in the Caucasus," 
 which is found in Vol. IV. of the Count's works under 
 the heading " Tales for Children." The style is per- 
 fectly simple and lucid ; the pictures of life in the 
 Tatar village among the mountains are intensely vivid, 
 painted with strong and masterly touches ; and the 
 reader will not soon forget the little laughing maiden 
 Dina, with the rubles jingling in her braided hair. 
 She stands forth as one of the most fascinating of the 
 author's creations. 
 
 NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. 
 
 Boston, Dec. 5, 1887. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Russian Proprietor 1 
 
 Lucerne ol 
 
 Recollections of a Scorer 12 ^ 
 
 Albert 148 
 
 iTwo Hussars 19 ° 
 
 Three Deaths 28G 
 
 A Prisoner in the Caucasus 
 
 vii 
 
 308 
 
A BUSSIAIS" PEOPEIETOR 
 
 Prince Nekhliudof was nineteen years of age when, 
 at the end of his third term at the university, he came 
 to spend his summer vacation on his estate. He was 
 alone there all the summer. 
 
 In the autumn he wrote in his unformed, boyish 
 hand, a letter to his aunt, the Countess Bifl orotska'in., 
 who, according to his notion, was his best friend, and 
 the most genial woman in the world. The letter was 
 in French, and was to the following effect : — 
 
 " Dear Auntie, — I have adopted a resolution upon 
 which must depend the fate of my whole existence. 
 I have left the university in order to devote myself to 
 a country life, because I feel that I was born for 'it. 
 For God's sake, dear auntie, don't make sport of 
 me. You say that I am young. Perhaps I am still 
 almost a child ; but this does not prevent me from 
 feeliug sure of my vocation, from wishing to accom- 
 plish it successfully, and from loving it. 
 
 "As I have already written you, I found our af- 
 fairs in indescribable confusion. Wishing to bring 
 order out of chaos, I made an investigation, and dis- 
 covered that the principal trouble was due to the most 
 
 l 
 
2 A RUSSIAN riiOrn/ETOIi. 
 
 wretched miserable condition of the peasants, and 
 that this trouble could be remedied only by work and 
 patience. 
 
 " If you could only see two of my peasants, David 
 and Ivan, and the way that they and their families 
 live, I am convinced that one glance at these two un- 
 fortunates would do more to persuade you than all that 
 I can tell you in justification of my resolve. Is not 
 my obligation sacred and clear, to labor for the wel- 
 fare of these seven hundred human beings for whom 
 I must be responsible to God ? Would it not be a sin 
 to leave them to the mercy of harsh elders and over- 
 seers, so as to carry out plans of enjoyment or am- 
 bition? And why should I seek in any other sphere 
 the opportunity of being useful, and doing good, when 
 such a noble, brilliant, and paramount duty lies right 
 at hand? 
 
 " I feel that I am capable of being a good farmer ; l 
 and in order to make myself such an one as I under- 
 stand the word to mean, I do not need m}* diploma as 
 B.A., nor the rank which you so expect of me. Dear 
 auntie, do not make ambitious plans for me : accustom 
 yourself to the thought that I am going on an absolutely 
 peculiar path, but one that is good, and, I think, will 
 bring me to happiness. I have thought and thought 
 about my future duties, have written out some rules of 
 conduct, and, if God onlj- gives me health and strength, 
 I shall succeed in my undertaking. 
 
 " Do not show this letter to my brother Vasya : I am 
 afraid of his ridicule. He generally dictates to me, 
 and I am accustomed to give way to him. Whilst 
 Vanya may not approve of my resolve, at least he will 
 understand it." 
 
 1 khozydin. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 3 
 
 The countess replied to her nephew in the following 
 letter, also written in French : — 
 
 " Your letter, dear Dmitri, showed nothing else to me 
 than that you have a warm heart ; and I have never 
 had reason to doubt that. But, my dear, our good 
 tendencies do us more harm in life than our bad ones. 
 I will not tell you that you are committing a folly, that 
 3'our behavior annoys me ; but I will do my best to 
 make one argument have an effect upon you. Let us 
 reason together, my dear. 
 
 " You say you feel that your vocation is for a 
 country life ; that you wish to make your serfs happy, 
 and that you hope to be a good farmer. 
 
 " In the first place, I must tell you that we feel sure 
 of our vocation onty when we have once made a mis- 
 take in one ; secondly, that it is easier to win happiness 
 for ourselves than for others ; and thirdly, that, in order 
 to be a good master, it is necessary to be a cold and 
 austere man, which you will never in this world suc- 
 ceed in being, even though you strive to make believe 
 that you are. 
 
 " You consider your arguments irresistible, and go 
 so far as to adopt them as rules for the conduct of 
 life ; but at my age, my dear, people don't care for 
 arguments and rules, but only for experience. Now, 
 experience tells me that your plans are childish. 
 
 "I am now in my fiftieth year, and I have known 
 many fine men ; but I have never heard of a young 
 man of good family and ability burying himself in the 
 country under the pretext of doing good. 
 
 u You have always wished to appear original, but 
 your originality is nothing else than morbidly developed 
 egotism. And, my dear, choose some better-trodden 
 
4 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 path. It will lead you to success ; and success, if it is 
 not necessary for you as success, is at least indispensa- 
 ble in giving you the possibility of doing good which 
 you desire. The poverty of a few serfs is an unavoid- 
 able evil, or, rather, an evil which cannot be remedied 
 by forgetting all your obligations to society, to your 
 relatives, and to yourself. 
 
 "With your intellect, with your kind heart, and 
 your love for virtue, no career would fail to bring you 
 success ; but at all events choose one which would be 
 worth your while, and bring you honor. 
 
 "I believe that you are sincere, when you sa}- that 
 you are free from ambition ; but you are deceiving 
 yourself. Ambition is a virtue at your age, and with 
 your means it becomes a fault and an absurdity when 
 a man is no longer in the condition to satisfy this 
 passion. 
 
 " And you will experience this if you do not change 
 your intention. Good-by, dear Mitya. It seems to 
 me that I have all the more love for you on account of 
 your foolish but still noble and magnanimous plan. 
 Do as you please, but I forewarn you that I shall not 
 be able to sympathize with you." 
 
 The young man read this letter, considered it long 
 and seriously, and finally, having decided that his 
 genial aunt might be mistaken, sent in his petition for 
 dismissal from the university, and took up his resi- 
 dence at his estate. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 II. 
 
 The young proprietor had, as he wrote his aunt, 
 devised a plan of action in the management of his 
 estate ; and his whole life and activity were measured 
 ]Sf hours, days, and months. 
 
 Sunday was reserved for the reception of petitioners, 
 domestic servants, and peasants, for the visitation of 
 the poor serfs belonging to the estate, and the distri- 
 bution of assistance with the approval of the Commune, 
 which met every Sunday evening, and was obliged to 
 decide who should have help, and what amount should 
 be given. 
 
 In such employments passed more than a year, and 
 the young man was now no longer a novice either in 
 the practical or theoretical knowledge of estate man- 
 agement. 
 
 It was a clear July Sunday when Nekhliudof , having 
 finished his coffee and run through a chapter of " Maison 
 Rustique," put his note-book and a packet of bank- 
 notes into the pocket of his light overcoat, and started 
 out of doors. It was a great country-house with colon- 
 nades and terraces where he lived, but he occupied 
 only one small room on the ground floor. He made 
 his way over the neglected, weed-grown paths of the 
 old English garden, toward the village, which was dis- 
 tributed along both sides of the highway. 
 
 Nekhliudof was a tall, slender young man, with 
 long, thick, wavy auburn hair, with a bright gleam in 
 
6 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 his dark eyes, a clear complexion, and rosy lips where 
 the first down of young manhood was now beginning 
 to appear. 
 
 In all his motions and gait, could be seen strength, 
 energy, and the good-natured self-satisfaction of youth. 
 
 The serfs, in variegated groups, were returning 
 from church: old men, maidens, children, mothers 
 with babies in their arms, dressed in their Sunday best, 
 were scattering to their homes ; and as they met the 
 burin they bowed low and made room for him to pass. 
 
 After Nekhliudof had walked some distance along 
 the street, he stopped, and drew from his pocket his 
 note-book, on the last page of which, inscribed in his 
 own boyish hand, were a number of names of his serfs 
 with memoranda. He read, "Ivda Churis asks for 
 aid; " and then, proceeding still farther along the 
 street, entered the gate of the second hut 1 on the 
 right. 
 
 Churis's domicile consisted of a half-deca}'ed struc- 
 ture, with musty corners ; the sides were rickety. It 
 was so buried in the ground, that the banking, made 
 of earth and dung, almost hid the two windows. The 
 one on the front had a broken sash, and the shutters 
 were half torn away ; the other was small and low, and 
 was stuffed with flax. A boarded entry with rotting 
 sills and low door, another small building still older 
 and still lower-studded than the entry, a gate, and a 
 barn were clustered about the principal hut. 
 
 All this had once been covered by one irregular 
 roof; but now only over the eaves hung the thick 
 straw, black and decaying. Above, in places, could 
 be seen the framework and rafters. 
 
 In front of the yard were a well with rotten curb, 
 
 i izbd. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 7 
 
 the remains of a post, and the wheel, and a mud- 
 puddle stirred up by the cattle where some ducks were 
 splashing. 
 
 Near the well stood two old willows, split and 
 broken, with their whitish-green foliage. They were 
 witnesses to the fact that some one, some time, had 
 taken interest in beautifying this place. Under one of 
 them sat a fair-haired girl of seven summers, watch- 
 ing another little girl of two, who was creeping at her 
 feet. The watch-dog gambolling about them, as soon 
 as he saw the barin, flew headlong under the gate, and 
 there set up a quavering yelp expressive of panic. 
 
 " Ivan at home? " asked Nekhliudof. 
 
 The little girl seemed stupefied at this question, and 
 kept opening her eyes wider and wider, but made no 
 reply. The baby opened her mouth, and set up a yell. 
 
 A little old woman, in a torn checkered skirt, belted 
 low with an old red girdle, peered out of the door, and 
 also said nothing. Nekhliudof approached the entry, 
 and repeated his inquiry. 
 
 " Yes, he's at home," replied the little old woman 
 in a quavering voice, bowing low, and evincing timidity 
 and agitation. 
 
 After Nekhliudof had asked after her health, and 
 passed through the entry into the little yard, the old 
 woman, resting her chin in her hand, went to the door, 
 and, without taking her eyes off the barin, began gently 
 to shake her head. 
 
 The yard was in a wretched condition, with heaps 
 of old blackened manure that had not been carried 
 away : on the manure were thrown in confusion a 
 rotting block, pitchforks, and two harrows. 
 
 There were pent-houses around the yard, under one 
 side of which stood a wooden plough, a cart without a 
 
8 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 wheel, and a pile of empty good-for-nothing beehives 
 thrown one upon another. The roof was in disrepair; 
 and one side had fallen in so that the covering in 
 front rested, not on the supports, but on the manure. 
 
 Churis, with the edge and head of an axe, was 
 breaking off the wattles that strengthened the roof. 
 Ivan was a peasant, fifty years of age. In stature, he 
 was short. The features of his tanned oval face, 
 framed in a dark auburn beard and hair where a trace 
 of gray was beginning to appear, were handsome and 
 expressive. His dark blue e} ? es gleamed with intelli- 
 gence and lazy good-nature, from under half-shut lids. 
 His small, regular mouth, sharply defined under his 
 sandy thin mustache when he smiled, betrayed a calm 
 self-confidence, and a certain bantering indifference 
 toward ail around him. 
 
 By the roughness of his skin, by his deep wrinkles, 
 by the veins that stood out prominently on his neck, 
 face, and hands, by his unnatural stoop and the crooked 
 position of his legs, it was evident that all his life had 
 been spent in hard work, far beyond his strength. 
 
 His garb consisted of white hempen drawers, with 
 blue patches on the knees, and a dirty shirt of the 
 same material, whicli kept hitching up his back and 
 arms. The shirt was belted low in the waist by a 
 girdle, from which hung a brass key. 
 
 " Good-day," said the barin, as he stepped into the 
 yard. Churis glanced around, and kept on with his 
 work ; making energetic motions, he finished clearing 
 away the wattles from under the shed, and then only, 
 having struck the axe into the block, he came out into 
 the middle of the yard. 
 
 "A pleasant holiday, your excellency!" said he, 
 bowing low and smoothing his hair. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 9 
 
 "Thanks, my friend. I came to see how your 
 affairs 1 were progressing," said Nekhliudof with boy- 
 ish friendliness and timidity, glancing at the peasant's 
 garb. "Just show me what you need in the way of 
 supports that you asked me about at the last meeting." 
 
 " Supports, of course, sir, your excellency, sir. 2 I 
 should like it fixed a little here, sir, if 3-011 will have 
 the goodness to cast your eye on it: here this corner 
 has given way, sir, and 011I3' by the mercy of God the 
 cattle didn't happen to be there. It barely hangs at 
 all," said Churis, gazing with an expressive look at his 
 broken-down, ramshackly, and ruined sheds. " Now 
 the girders and the supports and the rafters are noth- 
 ing but rot ; 3 7 ou won't see a sound timber. But 
 where can we get lumber nowadays, I should like to 
 know?" 
 
 "Well, what do you want with the five supports 
 when the one shed has fallen in ? the others will be soon 
 falling in too, won't they? You need to have every 
 thing made new, — rafters and girders and posts ; but 
 you don't want supports," said the barin, evidently 
 priding himself on his comprehension of the case. 
 
 Churis made no reply. 
 
 "Of course you need lumber, but not supports. 
 You ought to have told me so." 
 
 " Surely I do, but there's nowhere to get it. Not 
 all of us can come to the manor-house. If we all 
 should get into the habit of coming to the manor-house 
 and asking your excellency for eveiy thing we wanted, 
 what kind of serfs should we be? But if your kind- 
 ness went so far as to let me have some of the oak 
 saplings that are lying idle over b3 T the threshing- 
 floor," said the peasant, making a low bow and scrap- 
 
 1 khosydistvo. a bdtiushka. 
 
10 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 ing with his foot, " then, maybe, I might exchange 
 some, and piece out others, so that the old would lust 
 some time longer." 
 
 14 What is the good of the old? Why, you just told 
 me that it was all old and rotten. This part has 
 fallen in to-day ; to-morrow, that one will ; the day 
 after, a third. So, if any thing is to be done, it must 
 be all made new, so that the work may not be wasted. 
 Now tell me what you think about it. Can your 
 premises 1 last out this winter, or not? " 
 
 44 Who can tell?" 
 
 44 No, but what do you think? Will they fall in, or 
 not?" 
 
 Churis meditated for a moment. " Can't help fall- 
 ing in," said he suddenly. 
 
 44 Well, now you see you had better have said that 
 at the meeting, that you needed to rebuild your whole 
 place, 1 instead of a few props. You see, I should be 
 glad to help you." 
 
 u Many thanks for your kindness," replied Churis, 
 in an incredulous tone and not looking at the barm. 
 44 If you would give me four joists and some props, 
 then, perhaps, I might fix things up myself ; but if 
 any one is hunting after good-for-nothing timbers, 
 then he'd find them in the joists of the hut." 
 
 44 Why, is your hut so wretched as all that? " 
 
 44 My old woman and I are expecting it to fall in on 
 us any day," replied Churis indifferently. 44 A day or 
 two ago, a girder fell from the ceiling, and struck my 
 old woman." 
 
 44 What! struck her?" 
 
 44 Yes, struck her, your excellency : whacked her on 
 the back, so that she lay half dead all night." 
 
 1 dvor. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 11 
 
 " Well, did she get over it? " 
 
 " Pretty much, but she's been ailing ever since ; but 
 then she's always ailing." 
 
 " What, are you sick? " asked Nekhliudof of the old 
 woman, who had been standing all the time at the 
 door, and had begun to groan as soon as her husband 
 mentioned her. 
 
 " It bothers me here more and more, especially 
 on Sundays," she replied, pointing to her dirty lean 
 bosom. 
 
 "Again?" asked the j'onng master in a tone of 
 vexation, shrugging his shoulders. " Why, if you are 
 so sick, don't 3*ou come and get advice at the dis- 
 pensary? That is what the dispensary was built for. 
 Haven't you been told about it? " 
 
 44 Certainly we have, but I have not had any time to 
 spare ; have had to work in the field, and at home, 
 and look after the children, and no one to help me ; if 
 I weren't all alone "... 
 
12 a JtvssiAN riwrnir.Ton. 
 
 III. 
 
 Nekiiltupof wont into the hat. The uneven smoke- 
 begrimed walls of the dwelling were hung with various 
 rags and clothes ; and, in the living-room, were liter- 
 ally covered with reddish cockroaches clustering around 
 the holy images and benches. 
 
 In the middle of this dark, fetid apartment, not 
 fourteen feet square, was a huge craek in the ceiling ; 
 and in spite of the fact that it was braced up in two 
 places, the ceiling hung down so that it threatened to 
 fall from moment to moment. 
 
 "Yes, the hut is very miserable," said the bdrin, 
 looking into the face of Churis, who, it seems, had not 
 cared to speak first about this state of things. 
 
 "It will crush us to death; it will crush the chil- 
 dren," said the woman in a tearful voice, attending to 
 the stove which stood under the loft. 
 
 " Hold your tongue," cried Churis sternly ; and with 
 a slight smile playing under his mustaches, he turned to 
 the master. "And I haven't the wit to know what's 
 to be done with it, your excellency, — with this hut and 
 props and planks. There's nothing to be done with 
 them." 
 
 " How can we live through the winter here? Okh, 
 okh! Oh, oh ! " groaned the old woman. 
 
 " There's one thing — if we put in some more props 
 and laid a new floor/' said the husband, interrupting 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 13 
 
 her with a calm, practical expression, " and threw over 
 one set of rafters, then perhaps we might manage to get 
 through the winter. It is possible to live ; but you'd 
 have to put some props all over the hut, like that : but 
 if it gets shaken, then there won't be any thing left of 
 it. As long as it stands, it holds together," he con- 
 cluded, evidently perfectly contented that he appre- 
 ciated this contingency. 
 
 Nekhliudof was both vexed and grieved that Churis 
 had got himself into such a condition, without having 
 come to him long before ; since he had more than once, 
 during his sojourn on the estate, told the peasants, and 
 insisted upon it, that they should all apply directly to 
 him for whatever they needed. 
 
 He now felt some indignation against the peasant ; 
 he angrily shrugged his shoulders, and frowned. But 
 the sight of the poverty in the midst of which he 
 found himself, and Churis's calm and self-satisfied 
 appearance in contrast with this poverty, changed his 
 vexation into a sort of feeling of melancholy and hope- 
 lessness. 
 
 " Well, Ivan, why on earth didn't you tell me about 
 this before?" he asked in a tone of reproach, as he 
 took a seat on the filth} 7 , unsteady bench. 
 
 " I didn't dare to, your excellency," replied Churis 
 with the same scarcely perceptible smile, shuffling with 
 his black, bare feet over the uneven surface of the 
 mud floor ; but this he said so fearlessly and with such 
 composure, that it was hard to believe that he had any 
 timidity about going to his master. 
 
 " We are mere peasants ; how could we be so pre- 
 suming? " began the old woman, sobbing. 
 
 u Hush up," said Churis, again addressing her. 
 
 "It is impossible for you to live in this hut: it's 
 
H A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 all rotten, " cried Nekhliodof after a brief silence. 
 44 Now, this is how we shall manage it, my friend" 1 . . . 
 "I an listening." 
 
 " Have you seen the improved stone cottages that I 
 have been building at the new farm, — the one with the 
 undressed walls? " 
 
 44 Indeed I have seen them," replied Churis, with a 
 smile that showed his white teeth still unimpaired. 
 44 Everybody's agog at the way they're built. Fiue 
 cottages ! The bo3's were laughing and wondering if 
 they wouldn't be turned into granaries ; they would be 
 so secure against rats. Fine cottages," he said in 
 conclusion, with an expression of absurd perplexity, 
 shaking his head, 44 just like a jail ! " 
 
 44 Yes, they're splendid cottages, dry and warm, and 
 no danger of fire," replied the barin, a frown crossing 
 his youthful face as he perceived the peasant's invol- 
 untary sarcasm. 
 
 44 Without question, your excellency, fine cottages." 
 
 44 Well, then, one of these cottages is just finished. 
 It is twenty-four feet square, with an entry, and a barn, 
 and it's entirely ready. I will let you have it on credit 
 if you say so, at cost price ; you can pay for it at 3'our 
 own convenience," said the barin with a self-satisfied 
 smile, which he could not control, at the thought of his 
 benevolence. 44 You can pull down this old one," he 
 went on to sa}' ; " it will make you a granary. We 
 will also move the pens. The water there is splen- 
 did. I will give you enough land for a vegetable- 
 garden, and I'll let you have a strip of land on all 
 three sides. You can live there in a decent way. 
 Now, does not that please you?" asked Nekhliudof, 
 perceiving that as soon as he spoke of moving, Churis 
 
 1 bratets, brother. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 15 
 
 became perfectly motionless, and looked at the ground 
 without even a shadow of a smile. 
 
 "It's as your excellency wills," he replied, not 
 raising his eyes. 
 
 The old woman came forward as though something 
 had stung her to the quick, and began to speak ; but 
 her husband anticipated her. 
 
 " It's as your excellency wills," he repeated reso- 
 lutely, and at the same time humbly glancing at his 
 master, and tossing back his hair. " But it would 
 never do for us to live on a new farm." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Nay, your excellenc} 7 , not if you move us over 
 there : here we are wretched enough, but over there 
 we could never in the world get along. What kind of 
 peasants should we be there? Nay, nay, it is impossi- 
 ble for us to live there." 
 
 " But why not, pray? " 
 
 " We should be totally ruined, your excellency." 
 
 " But wh} r can't } r ou live there? " 
 
 " What kind of a life would it be? Just think! it 
 has never been lived in ; we don't know any thing about 
 the water, no pasture anywhere. Here we have had 
 hemp-fields ever since we can remember, all manured ; 
 but what is there there? Yes, what is there there? 
 A wilderness ! No hedges, no corn-kilns, no sheds, no 
 nothing at all ! Oh, }'es, your excellency ; we should 
 be ruined if you took us there ; we should be perfectly 
 ruined. A new place, all unknown to us," he re- 
 peated, shaking his head thoughtfully but resolutely. 
 
 Nekhliudof tried to point out to the peasant that the 
 change, on the contrary, would be veiy advantageous 
 for him ; that they would plant hedges, and build 
 sheds ; that the water there was excellent, and so on : 
 
16 A RUSSIAN PliOPIifKTOR. 
 
 but Churis's obstinate silence exasperated him, and 
 he accordingly felt that he was speaking to no pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Churis made no objection to what he said ; but when 
 the master finished speaking, he remarked with a crafty 
 smile, that it would be best of all to remove to that 
 farm some of the old domestic servants, and Alyosha 
 the fool, so that they might watch over the grain there. 
 
 " That would be worth while," he remarked, and 
 smiled once more. " This is foolish business, your 
 excellency." 
 
 " What makes j t ou think the place is not inhabit- 
 able?" insisted Nekhliudof patiently. " This place 
 here isn't inhabitable, and hasn't been, and yet you live 
 here. But there, you will get settled there before you 
 know it; you will certainly find it easy "... 
 
 " But, your excellency, kind sir, 1 how can it be 
 compared?" replied Churis eagerty, as though he 
 feared that the master would not accept a conclusive 
 argument. " Here is our place in the world; we are 
 happy in it; we are accustomed to it, and the road 
 and the pond — where would the old woman do her 
 washing? where would the cattle get watered? And 
 all our peasant ways are here ; here from time out of 
 mind. And here's the threshing-floor, and the little 
 garden, and the willows; and here my parents lived, 
 and my grandfather ; and my father gave his soul into 
 God's keeping here, and I too would end my days 
 here, your excellency. I ask nothing more than that. 
 Be good, and let the hut be put in order ; we shall be 
 always grateful for your kindness : but no, not for 
 any thing, would we spend our last da} r s anywhere 
 else. Let us stay here and say our prayers," he con- 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 17 
 
 tinned, bowing low ; "do not take us from our nest, 
 kind sir." l 
 
 Ail the time that Churis was speaking, there was 
 heard in the place under the loft, where his wife was 
 standing, sobs growing more and more violent ; and 
 when the husband said " kind sir" she suddenly 
 darted forward, and with tears in her eyes threw her- 
 self at the barin's feet. 
 
 "Don't destroy us, benefactor; you are our father, 
 you are our mother ! Where are you going to move 
 us to ? We are old folks ; we have no one to help us. 
 You are to us as God is," lamented the old woman. 
 
 Nekhliudof leaped up from the bench, and was 
 going to lift the old woman ; but she, with a sort of 
 passionate despair, beat her forehead on the earth 
 floor, and pushed aside the master's hand. 
 
 " What is the matter with you? Get up, I beg of 
 you. If you don't wish to go, it is not necessary. I 
 won't oblige you to," said he, waving his hand, and 
 retreating to the door. 
 
 When Nekhliudof sat down on the bench again, and 
 silence was restored in the room, interrupted only by 
 the sobs of the old woman, who was once more busy 
 under the loft, and was wiping away her tears with the 
 sleeves of her shirt, the young proprietor began to 
 comprehend what was meant for the peasant and his 
 wife by the dilapidated little hut, the crumbling well 
 with the filthy pool, the decaying stalls and sheds, 
 and the broken willows which could be seen before the 
 crooked window ; and the feeling that arose in him 
 was burdensome, melancholy, and touched with shame. 
 
 " Why didn't you tell the Commune last Sunday, 
 Ivan, that you needed a new hut? I don't know, now, 
 
 1 batiushka. 
 
18 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 how to help you. I told you all at the first meeting, 
 that I had come to live in the country, and devote 
 my life to you, that I was ready to deprive myself of 
 every thing to make you happy and contented ; and I 
 vowed before God, now, that I would keep my word," 
 said the young proprietor, not knowing that such a 
 manner of opening the heart is incapable of arousing 
 faith in any one, and especially in the Russian, who 
 loves not words but deeds, and is reluctant to be 
 stirred up by feelings, no matter how beautiful they 
 may be. 
 
 But the simple-hearted young man was so pleased 
 with this feeling that he experienced, that he could 
 not help speaking. 
 
 Churis leaned his head to one side, and slowly blink- 
 ing, listened with constrained attention to his master, 
 as to a man to whom he must needs listen, even though 
 he says things not entirely good, and absolutely foreign 
 to his way of thinking. 
 
 "But you see I cannot do all that everybody asks 
 of me. If I did not refuse some who ask me for 
 wood, I myself should be left without any, and I could 
 not give to those who really needed. When I made 
 this rule, I did it for the regulation of the peasants' 
 affairs ; and I put it entirely in the hands of the Com- 
 mune. This wood now is not mine, but yours, you 
 peasants', and I cannot any longer dispose of it; but 
 the Commune disposes of it, as you know. Come to the 
 meeting to-night. I will tell the Commune about your 
 request: if they are disposed to give you a new hut, 
 well and good ; but I haven't any more wood. I 
 wish with all my soul to help you ; but if you aren't 
 willing to move, then it is no longer my affair, but the 
 Commune's. Do you understand me? " 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 19 
 
 "Many thanks for your kindness," replied Churis 
 in some agitation. " If you will give me some lumber, 
 then we can make repairs. What is the Commune? 
 It's a well-known fact that" . . . 
 
 " No, you come." 
 
 "I obey. I will come. Why shouldn't I come? 
 Only this thing is sure : I won't ask the Commune." 
 
20 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The young proprietor evidently desired to ask some 
 more questions of the peasants. He did not move 
 from the bench ; and he glanced irresolutely, now at 
 Churis, now at the empty, unlighted stove. 
 
 " Well, have you had dinner yet? " he asked at last. 
 
 A mocking smile arose to Churis's lips, as though it 
 were ridiculous to him for his master to ask such 
 foolish questions ; he made no reply. 
 
 " What do you mean, — dinner, benefactor? " said 
 the old woman, sighing deeply. " We've eaten a 
 little bread ; that's our dinner. We couldn't get any 
 vegetables to-day so as to boil some soup, 1 but we had 
 a little kvas, — enough for the children." 
 
 44 To-day was a fast-day for us, your excellency," 
 remarked Churis sarcastically, taking up his wife's 
 words. 44 Bread and onions ; that's the way we peas- 
 ants live. Howsomever, praise be to the Lord, I have 
 a little grain yet, thanks to your kindness ; it's lasted 
 till now ; but there's plenty of our peasants as ain't got 
 any. Everywheres there's scarcity of onious. Only a 
 day or two ago they sent to Mikhail the gardener, to 
 get a bunch for a farthing: couldn't get any any- 
 wheres. Haven't been to God's church scarcely since 
 Easter. Haven't had nothing to buy a taper for 
 Mikola [St. Nicholas] with." 
 
 Nekhliudof, not by hearsay nor by trust in the 
 
 1 shchets for shchi. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 21 
 
 words of others, but by the evidence of his own eyes, 
 had long known the extreme depth of poverty into 
 which his peasantry had sunken : but the entire reality 
 was in such perfect contrast to his own bringing-up, 
 the turn of his mind, and the course of his life, that 
 in spite of himself he kept forgetting the truth of it ; 
 and every time when, as now, it was brought vividly, 
 tangibly, before him, his heart was torn with painful, 
 almost unendurable melancholy, as though some abso- 
 lute and unavoidable punishment were torturing him. 
 
 "Why are you so poor?" he exclaimed, involun- 
 tarily expressing his thought. 
 
 " How could such as we help being poor, sir, 1 your 
 excellency? Our land is so bad, you j*ourself may 
 be pleased to know, — clay and sand-heaps ; and surely 
 we must have angered God, for this long time, ever 
 since the cholera, the corn won't grow. Our meadows 
 and every thing else have been growing worse and 
 worse. And some of us have to work for the farm, 
 antt some detailed for the manor-lands. And here I 
 am with no one to help me, and I'm getting old. I'd 
 be glad enough to work, but' I hain't no strength. 
 And my old woman's ailing ; and every year there's a 
 new girl born, and I have to feed 'em all. I get tired 
 out all alone, and here's seven dependent on me. I 
 must be a sinner in the eyes of the Lord God, I often 
 think to myself. And when God takes me off sud- 
 den-like, I feel it would be easier for me ; just as 
 it's better for them than to lead such a dog's life 
 here "... 
 
 "Oh, olch!" groaned the old woman, as a sort of 
 confirmation of her husband's words. 
 
 " And this is all the help I have," continued Churis, 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
22 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 pointing to the white-headed, unkempt little boy of 
 seven, with a huge belly, who at this moment, timidly 
 and quietly pushing the door open, came into the hut, 
 and, resting his eyes in wonder and solemnity on the 
 master, clung hold of Churis's shirt-band with both 
 hands. 
 
 4k This is all the assistance I have here," continued 
 Churis in a sonorous voice, laying his shaggy hand on 
 the little lad's white hair. M When will he be good 
 for any thing? But my work isn't much good. When 
 I reach old age I shall be good for nothing ; the rup- 
 ture is getting the better of me. In wet weather it 
 makes me fairly scream. I am getting to be an old 
 man, and yet I have to take care of my land. 1 And 
 here's Yermilof, Demkin, Zabref, all younger than I 
 am, and they have been freed from their land long 
 ago. Well, I haven't any one to help me with it; 
 that's my misfortune. Have to feed so many ; that's 
 where my struggle lies, your excellency." 
 
 k ' I should be very glad to make it easier for you, 
 truly. But how can I?" asked the young barin in a 
 tone of sympathy, looking at the serf. 
 
 M How make it easier? It's a well-known fact, if 
 you have the land you must do enforced labor also ; 2 
 that's the regulation. I expect something from this 
 youngster. If only you'd be good enough to let him 
 off from going to school. But just a day or two ago, 
 the officer 8 came and said that your excellency wanted 
 
 1 The lands belonging to the Russian commune, or mir, were periodically 
 distributed by allotment, each full-grown peasant receiving as his share a 
 tiaglo representing what the average man and his wife were capable of cul- 
 tivating. When the period was long — ten years for instance — it sometimes 
 happened that a serf, by reason of illness, laziness, or other misfortune, 
 would find it hard to cultivate his share, pay the tax on it, and also do the 
 work required of him on his barin's land. Such was Churis's complaint. 
 
 2 barshchina: work on the master's laud. 3 eemski. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 23 
 
 him to go to school. Do let him off ; he has no capacity 
 for learning, your excellency. He's too young yet ; he 
 won't understand any thing." 
 
 " No, brother, you're wrong there," said the barin. 
 4 'Your boy is old enough to understand ; it's time for 
 him to be learning. Just think of it ! How he'll 
 grow up, and learn about farming ; yes, and he'll 
 know his a-b-c's, and know how to read ; and read in 
 church. He'll be a great help to you if God lets him 
 live," said Nekhliudof, trying to make himself as plain 
 as possible, and at the same time blushing and stam- 
 mering. 
 
 " Very true, your excellency. You don't want to 
 do us an injury, but there's no one to take care of 
 the house ; for while I and the old woman are doing the 
 enforced labor, the boy, though he's so young, is a 
 great help, driving the cattle and watering the horses. 
 Whatever he is, he's a true muzhik;" and Churis, 
 with a smile, took the lad's nose between his fat 
 fingers, and deftly removed the mucus. 
 
 " Nevertheless, you must send him to school, for 
 now you are at home, and he has plenty of time, — do 
 you hear? Don't you fail." 
 
 Churis sighed deeply, and made no reply. 
 
24 A RUSSIAN PR0FR1ET0R. 
 
 "There's one other thing I wished to speak to you 
 about," s;l ^ Nekliliuclof. " Why don't you haul out 
 your manure? " 
 
 44 What manure, sir, 1 your excellency? There isn't 
 any to haul out. What cattle have I got? One mare 
 and colt ; and last autumn I sold my heifer to the 
 porter, — that's all the cattle I've got." 
 
 41 1 know you haven't much, but why did you sell 
 your heifer? " asked the bdriu in amazement. 
 
 44 What have I got to feed her on? " 
 
 44 Didn't you have some straw for feeding the cow? 
 The others did." 
 
 44 The others have their fields manured, but my 
 land's all clay. I can't do any thing with it." 
 
 44 Why don't you dress it, then, so it won't be clay? 
 Then the land would give you grain, and you'd have 
 something to feed to your stock." 
 
 44 But I haven't any stock, so how am I going to get 
 dressing? " 
 
 "That's an odd cercle vicieux," said Nekhliudof to 
 himself ; and he actually was at his wits' ends to find 
 an answer for the peasant. 
 
 44 And I tell you this, your excellency, it ain't the 
 manure that makes the corn grow, but God," con- 
 tinued the peasant. 44 Now, one summer I had six 
 sheaves on one little unmanured piece of land, and 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 25 
 
 only a twelfth as much on that which was manured 
 well. No one like God," he added with a sigh. 
 "Yes, and my stock are always dying off. Five 
 years past I haven't had any luck with 'em. Last 
 summer one heifer died ; had to sell another, hadn't 
 any thing to feed her on ; and last year my best cow 
 perished. They were driving her home from pasture ; 
 nothing the matter, but suddenly she staggered and 
 staggered. And so now it's all empty here. Just my 
 bad luck!" 
 
 "Well, brother, since you say that you have no 
 cattle to help you make fodder, and no fodder for 
 your cattle, here's something towards a cow," said 
 Nekhliudof, reddening, and fetching forth from his 
 pocket a packet of crumpled banknotes and untying 
 it. "Buy you a cow at my expense, and get some 
 fodder from the granary : I will give orders. See to 
 it that you have a cow by next Sunday. I shall come 
 to see." 
 
 Churis hesitated long ; and when he did not offer to 
 take the money, Nekhliudof laid it down on the end of 
 the table, and a still deeper flush spread over his face. 
 
 " Many thanks for your kindness," said Churis, with 
 his ordinary smile, which was somewhat sarcastic. 
 
 The old woman sighed heavily several times as she 
 stood under the loft, and seemed to be repeating a 
 prayer. 
 
 The situation was embarrassing for the young prince : 
 he hastily got up from the bench, went out into the 
 entry, and called to Churis to follow him. The sight 
 of the man whom he had been befriending was so 
 pleasant that he found it hard to tear himself away. 
 
 " I am glad to help you," said he, halting by the 
 well. " It's in my power to help you, because I know 
 
26 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 that you are not lazy. You will work, and I will assist 
 you ; and, with God's aid, you will come out all right." 
 
 "There's no hope of coming out all right, your 
 excellency," said Churis, suddenly assuming a serious 
 and even stern expression of countenance, as though 
 the young man's assurance that he would come out 
 all right had awakened all his opposition. " In my 
 father's time my brothers and I did not see any lack ; 
 but when he died, we broke all up. It kept going from 
 bad to worse. Perfect wretchedness ! " 
 
 44 Whj' did you break up? " 
 
 " All on account of the women, your excellency. It 
 was just after your grandfather died; when he was 
 alive, we should not have ventured to do it : then the 
 present order of things came in. He was just like you, 
 he took an interest in every thing; and we should 
 not have dared to separate. The late master did not 
 like to look after the peasants ; but after your grand- 
 father's time, Andrei Ilyitch took charge. God for- 
 give him ! he was a drunken, careless man. We came 
 to him once and again with complaints, — no living on 
 account of the women, — begged him to let us sepa- 
 rate. Well, he put it off, and put it off; but at last 
 things came to such a pass, the women kept each to 
 their own part ; we began to live apart ; and, of course, 
 what could a single peasant do? Well, there wasn't no 
 law or order. Andrei Ilyitch managed simply to suit 
 himself. 'Take all you can get.' And whatever he 
 could extort from a peasant, he took without asking. 
 Then the poll-tax was raised, and they began to exact 
 more provisions, and we had less and less land, and the 
 grain stopped growing. Well, when the new allotment 
 was made, then he took away from us our manured land, 
 and added it to the master's, the villain, and ruined us 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 27 
 
 entirely. He ought to have been hung. Your father 1 
 — the kingdom of heaven be his ! — was a good barin, 
 but it was rarely enough that we ever had sight of him : 
 he always lived in Moscow. Well, of course they used- 
 to drive the carts in pretty often. Sometimes it would 
 be the season of bad roads, 2 and no fodder; but no 
 matter ! The barin couldn't get along without it. We 
 did not dare to complain at this, but there wasn't sys- 
 tem. But now your grace lets any of us peasants see 
 your face, and so a change has come over us ; and the 
 overseer is a different kind of man. Now we know for 
 sure that we have a barin. And it is impossible to 
 say how grateful your peasants are for your kindness. 
 But before you came, there wasn't any real barin : every 
 one was barin. Ilyitch was barin, and his wife put on 
 the airs of a lady, 3 and the scribe from the police-station 
 was barin. Too many of em ! ukh I the peasants had 
 to put up with many trials." 
 
 Again Nekhliudof experienced a feeling akin to 
 shame or remorse. He put on his hat, and went on 
 his way. 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 2 raspiititsa. 8 bdruinya. 
 
28 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 VI. 
 
 "Yukiivanka the clever 1 wants to sell a horse," 
 was what Nekhliudof next read in his note-book ; and 
 he proceeded along the street to Yukhvanka's place. 2 
 Yukhvauka's hut was carefully thatched with straw 
 from the threshing-floor of the estate ; the frame-work 
 was of new light-gray aspen- wood (also from stock 
 belonging to the estate), had two handsome painted 
 shutters for the window, and a porch with eaves and 
 ingenious balustrades cut out of deal planks. 
 
 The narrow entry and the cold hut were also in per- 
 fect order ; but the general impression of sufficiency 
 and comfort given by this establishment was somewhat 
 injured b}' a barn enclosed in the gates, which had a 
 dilapidated hedge and a sagging pent roof, appearing 
 from behind it. 
 
 Just as Nekhliudof approached the steps from one 
 side, two peasant women came up on the other carry- 
 ing a tub full of water. One was Yukhvanka's wife, 
 the other his mother. 
 
 The first was a robust, healthy-looking woman, 
 with an extraordinarily exuberant bosom, and wide fat 
 cheeks. She wore a clean shirt embroidered on the 
 sleeves and collar, an apron of the same material, a 
 new linen skirt, peasant's shoes, a string of beads, and 
 an elegant four-cornered head-dress of embroidered red 
 paper and spangles. 
 
 1 Yukhv&nka-Mudr'ydnui. * dvor. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 29 
 
 The end of the water-yoke was not in the least 
 unsteady, but was firmly settled on her wide and solid 
 shoulder. Her easy forcefulness, manifested in her 
 rosy face, in the curvature of her back, and the meas- 
 ured swing of her arms and legs, made it evident that 
 she had splendid health and rugged strength. 
 
 Yukhvanka's mother, balancing the other end of 
 the yoke, was, on the contrary, one of those elderly 
 women who seem to have reached the final limit of old 
 age and decrepitude. Her bony frame, clad in a black 
 dilapidated shirt and a faded linen skirt, was bent so 
 that the water-yoke rested rather on her back than on 
 her shoulder. Her two hands, whose distorted fingers 
 seemed to clutch the yoke, were of a strange dark 
 chestnut color, and were convulsively cramped. Her 
 drooping head, wrapped up in some sort of a clout, 
 bore the most monstrous evidences of indigence and 
 extreme old age. 
 
 From under her narrow brow, perfectly covered with 
 deep wrinkles, two red eyes, unprotected by lashes, 
 gazed with leaden expression to the ground. One yel- 
 low tooth protruded from her sunken upper lip, and, 
 constantly moving, sometimes came in contact with her 
 sharp chin. The wrinkles on the lower part of her 
 face and neck hung down like little bags, quivering at 
 every motion. 
 
 She breathed heavily and hoarsely ; but her bare, 
 distorted legs, though it seemed as if they would have 
 barely strength to drag along over the ground, moved 
 with measured steps. 
 
30 A RUSS/AN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Almost stumbling against the prince, the }'0ung 
 wife precipitately set down the tub, showed a little 
 embarrassment, dropped a courtesy, and then with 
 shining eyes glanced up at him, and, endeavoring to 
 hide a slight smile behind the sleeve of her embroid- 
 ered shirt, ran up the steps, clattering in her wooden 
 shoes. 
 
 " Mother, 1 you take the water-yoke to aunt Nasta- 
 sia," said she, pausing at the door, and addressing 
 the old woman. 
 
 The modest young proprietor looked sternly but 
 scrutinizingly at the rosy woman, frowned, and turned 
 to the old dame, who, seizing the yoke with her crooked 
 fingers, submissively lifted it to her shoulder, and was 
 about to direct her steps to the adjacent hut. 
 
 " Your son at home? " asked the prince. 
 
 The old woman, her bent form bent more than usual, 
 made an obeisance, and tried to say something in 
 reply, but, suddenly putting her hand to her mouth, 
 was taken with such a fit of coughing, that Nekhliudof 
 without waiting went into the hut. 
 
 Yukhvauka, who had been sitting on the bench in 
 the "red corner,"' 2 when he saw the prince, threw 
 himself upon the oven, as though he were anxious to 
 hide from him, hastily thrust something away in the 
 
 1 matwhka. 
 
 * Where the holy images and the lighted taper are to be found. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 31 
 
 loft, and, with mouth and eyes twitching, squeezed him- 
 self close to the wall, as though to make way for the 
 prince. 
 
 Yukhvanka was a tight-complexioned fellow, thirty 
 years of age, spare, with a young, pointed beard. He 
 was well proportioned, and rather handsome, save for 
 the unpleasant expression of his hazel eyes, under his 
 knitted brow, and for the lack of two front teeth, 
 which immediately attracted one's attention because 
 his lips were short and constantly parted. 
 
 He wore a Sunday shirt with bright red gussets, 
 striped print drawers, and heavy boots with wrinkled 
 legs. 
 
 The interior of Vanka's hut was not as narrow and 
 gloomy as that of Churis's, though it was fully as 
 stifling, as redolent of smoke and sheepskin, and show- 
 ing as disorderly an array of peasant garments and 
 utensils. 
 
 Two things here strangely attracted the attention, — 
 a small damaged samovar standing on the shelf, and a 
 black frame near the ikon, with the remains of a dirty 
 mirror and the portrait of some general in a red 
 uniform. 
 
 Nekhiiudof looked with distaste on the samovar, the 
 general's portrait, and the loft, where stuck out, from 
 under some rags, the end of a copper-mounted pipe. 
 Then he turned to the peasant. 
 
 " How do you do, Yepifan f " said he, looking into 
 his eyes. 
 
 Yepifan bowed low, and mumbled, " Good-morning, 
 'slency," ' with a peculiar abbreviation of the last 
 word, while his eyes wandered restlessly from the 
 prince to the ceiling, and from the ceiling to the floor, 
 
 1 vaciaso for vashe sidtelstvo (your excellency). 
 
32 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 :n wl not pausing on any thing. Then he hastily ran to 
 the loft, dragged out i c<>:it, and began to put it on. 
 
 41 Why are you putting on your coat? " asked Nekh- 
 liudof, sitting down on the bench, and evidently 
 endeavoring to look at Yepifdn as sternly as possible. 
 
 44 How can I appear before you without it, 'slency? 
 You see we can understand "... 
 
 44 1 have come to ask you why you need to sell a 
 horse? Have you many horses? What horse do you 
 wish to sell? " said the prince without wasting words, 
 but propounding questions that he had evidently pre- 
 considered. 
 
 44 We are greatly beholden to you, 'slency, that you 
 do not think it beneath you to visit me, a mere peas- 
 ant," replied Yukhvanka, casting hasty glances at the 
 general's portrait, at the stove, at the prince's boots, 
 and every thing else except Nekhliudof's face. 44 We 
 always pray God for your 'slency." 
 
 44 Why sell the horse? " repeated Nekhliudof, raising 
 his voice, and coughing. 
 
 Yukhvanka sighed, tossed back his hair (again his 
 glance roved about the hut) , and noticing the cat that 
 lay on the bench contentedly purring, he shouted out 
 to her, 44 Scat, you rubbish! " and quickly addressed 
 himself to the barm. 44 A horse, 'slency, which ain't 
 worth any thing. If the beast was good for any thing, 
 I shouldn't think of selling him, 'slency." 
 
 44 How many horses have you in all? " 
 
 44 Three horses, 'slency." 
 
 44 No colts?" 
 
 44 Of course, 'slency. There is one colt." 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 33 
 
 VIII. 
 
 "Come, show me your horses. Are they in the 
 yard?" 1 
 
 " Indeed they are, 'slency. I have done as I was 
 told, 'slency. Could we fail to heed you, 'slency? 
 Yakof Ilyitch told me not to send the horses out to 
 pasture. ' The prince,' says he, ' is coining to look at 
 them,' and so we didn't send them. For, of course, 
 we shouldn't dare to disobey you, 'slency." 
 
 While Nekhliudof was on his way to the door, Yukh- 
 vanka snatched down his pipe from the loft, and flung 
 it into the stove. His lips were still drawn in with 
 the same expression of constraint as when the prince 
 was looking at him. 
 
 A wretched little gray mare, with thin tail, all stuck 
 up with burrs, was sniffing at the filthy straw under 
 the pent roof. A long-legged colt two months old, of 
 some nondescript color, with bluish hoofs and nose, 
 followed close behind her. 
 
 In the middle of the yard stood a pot-bellied brown 
 gelding with closed eyes and thoughtfully pendent 
 head. It was apparently an excellent little horse for 
 a peasant. 
 
 " So these are all your horses? " 
 
 " No, indeed, 'slency. Here's still another mare, 
 and here's the little colt," replied Yukhvanka, point- 
 ing to the horses, which the prince could not help seeing. 
 
 1 dvor. 
 
34 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 M I see. Which one do you propose to seU? " 
 
 41 This here one, 'slency," he replied, waving his 
 jacket in the direction of the somnolent gelding, and 
 constantly winking and sucking in his lips. 
 
 The gelding opened his eyes, and lazily switched his 
 tail. 
 
 44 He does not seem to be old, and he's fairly plump," 
 said Nekhliudof. 44 Bring him up, and show me his 
 teeth. I can tell if he's old." 
 
 44 You can't tell by one indication, 'slency. The 
 beast isn't worth a farthing. He's peculiar. You 
 have to judge both by tooth and limb, 'slency," replied 
 Yukhvanka, smiling very gayly, and letting his eyes 
 rove in all directions. 
 
 44 What nonsense ! Bring him here, I tell you." 
 
 Yukhvanka stood still smiling, and made a depreca- 
 tory gesture ; and it was only when Nekhliudof cried 
 angrily, 44 Well, what are you up to? " that he moved 
 toward the shed, seized the halter, and began to pull 
 at the horse, scaring him, and getting farther and 
 farther away as the horse resisted. 
 
 The young prince was evidently vexed to see this, 
 and perhaps, also, he wished to show his own 
 shrewdness. 
 
 44 Give me the halter," he cried. 
 
 44 Excuse me. It's impossible for you, 'slency, — 
 don't" . . . 
 
 But Nekhliudof went straight up to the horse's head, 
 and, suddenly seizing him by the ears, threw him to 
 the ground with such force, that the gelding, who, as 
 it seems, was a very peaceful peasant steed, began to 
 kick and strangle in his endeavors to get away. 
 
 When Nekhliudof perceived that it was perfectly use- 
 less to exert his strength so, and looked at Yukhvanka, 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 35 
 
 who was still smiling, the thought most maddening at 
 his time of life occurred to him, — that Yukhvanka was 
 laughing at him, and regarding him as a mere child. 
 
 He reddened, let go of the horse's ears, and, with- 
 out making use of the halter, opened the creature's 
 mouth, and looked at his teeth : they were sound, the 
 crowns full, so far as the young man had time to make 
 his observations. No doubt the horse was in his 
 prime. 
 
 Meantime Yukhvanka came to the shed, and, seeing 
 that the harrow was lying out of its place, seized it, and 
 stood it up against the wattled hedge. 
 
 44 Come here," shouted the prince, with an expres- 
 sion of childish annoyance in his face, and almost with 
 tears of vexation and wrath in his voice. "What! 
 call this horse old? " 
 
 11 Excuse me, 'slency, very old, twent}- years old at 
 least. A horse that "... 
 
 44 Silence ! You are a liar and a good-for-nothing. 
 No decent peasant will lie, there's no need for him 
 to," said Nekhliudof, choking with the angry tears 
 that filled his throat. 
 
 He stopped speaking, lest he should be detected in 
 weeping before the peasant. Yukhvanka also said 
 nothing, and had the appearance of a man who was 
 almost on the verge of tears, blew his nose, and slowly 
 shook his head. 
 
 44 Well, how are you going to plough when you have 
 disposed of this horse? " continued Nekhliudof, calming 
 himself with an effort, so as to speak in his ordinary 
 voice. 44 You are sent out into the field on purpose to 
 drive the horses for ploughing, and } T ou wish to dis- 
 pose of your last horse ? And I should like to know 
 why you need to lie about it." 
 
36 A RUSSIAN PROPRIKTOR. 
 
 In proportion as the prince calmed down, Yukh- 
 v:mkaalso calmed down. He straightened himself up, 
 :iik1, while he sucked in his lips constantly, he let his 
 eyes rove about from one object to another. 
 
 44 Lie to you, 'slency? We are no worse off than 
 others in going to work." 
 
 44 But what will you go on ? " 
 
 44 Don't worry. We will do your work, 'slency," 
 he replied, starting up the gelding, and driving him 
 away. 4 * Even if we didn't need money, I should 
 want to get rid of him." 
 
 44 Why do you need money? " 
 
 44 Haven't no grain, 'slency; and besides, we peas- 
 ants have to pay our debts, 'slency." 
 
 44 How is it you have no grain? Others who have 
 families have corn enough ; but you have no family, and 
 you are in want. Where is it all goue? " 
 
 4k Ate it up, 'slency, and now we haven't a bit. I 
 will bu}' a horse in the autumn, 'slency." 
 
 44 Don't for a moment think of selling your 
 horse." 
 
 44 But if we don't then what'll become of us, 'slency? 
 No grain, and forbidden to sell any thing," he replied, 
 turning his head to one side, sucking in his lips, and 
 suddenly glancing boldly into the prince's face. 44 Of 
 course we shall die of starvation." 
 
 44 Look here, brother," cried Nekhliudof, paling, and 
 experiencing a feeling of righteous indignation against 
 the peasant. 44 I can't endure such peasants as you 
 are. It will go hard with you." 
 
 44 Just as you will, 'slency," he replied, shutting his 
 eyes with an expression of feigned submission: 4 'I 
 should not think of disobeying you. But it comes not 
 from any fault of mine. Of course, I may not please 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 37 
 
 you, 'slency ; at all events, I can do as you wish ; only 
 1 don't see why I deserve to be punished." 
 
 "This is why: because your yard is exposed, your 
 manure is not ploughed in, your hedges are broken 
 clown, and yet you sit at home smoking your pipe, and 
 don't work ; because you don't give a crust of bread 
 to your mother, who gave you your whole place, 1 and 
 you let your wife beat her, and she has to come to me 
 with her complaints." 
 
 "Excuse me, 'slency, I don't know what you mean 
 by smoking your pipe," replied Yukhvanka in a con- 
 strained tone, showing beyond peradventure that the 
 complaint about his smoking touched him to the quick. 
 " It is possible to say any thing about a man." 
 
 " Now you're lying again ! I myself saw " . . 
 
 " How could I venture to lie to you, 'slency? " 
 
 Nekhliudof made no answer, but bit his lip, and be- 
 gan to walk back and forth in the yard. Yukhvanka, 
 standing in one place, and not lifting his eyes, followed 
 the prince's legs. 
 
 " See here, Yepifan," said Nekhliudof in a childishly 
 gentle voice, coming to a pause before the peasant, 
 and endeavoring to hide his vexation, "it is impossi- 
 ble to live so, and you are working your own destruc- 
 tion. Just think. If you want to be a good peasant, 
 then turn over a new leaf, cease your evil courses, stop 
 lying, don't get drunk any more, honor your mother. 
 You see, I know all about you. Take hold of your 
 work ; don't steal from the crown woods, for the sake 
 of going to the tavern. Think how well off you might 
 be. If you really need any thing, then come to me ; 
 tell me honestly, what you need and why you need it ; 
 and don't tell lies, but tell the whole truth, and then 
 
 1 khozydistvo. 
 
38 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 I won't refuse you any thing that I can possibly 
 grant." 
 
 u Excuse me, 'slency, I think I understand you, 
 'slency," replied Yukhvanka smiling as though he 
 comprehended the entire significance of the prince's 
 words. 
 
 That smile and answer completely disenchanted 
 Nekhliudof so far as he had any hope of reforming 
 the man aud of turning him into the path of virtue by 
 means of moral suasion. It seemed to him hard that 
 it should be wasted energy when he had the power to 
 warn the peasant, and that all that he had said was 
 exactly what he should not have said. 
 
 He shook his head gravely, and went into the house. 
 The old woman was sitting on the threshold and groan- 
 ing heavily, as it seemed to the young proprietor as a 
 sign of approbation of his words which she had over- 
 heard. 
 
 M Here's something for you to get bread with," said 
 Nekhliudof iu her ear, pressing a bank-note into her 
 hand. " But keep it for yourself, and don't give it to 
 Yepifan, else he'll drink it up." 
 
 The old woman with her distorted hand laid hold of 
 the doorpost, and tried to get up. She began to pour 
 out her thanks to the prince ; her head began to wag, 
 but Nekhliudof was already on the other side of the 
 street when she got to her feet. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 39 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Davtdka Byelui 1 asks for grain and posts," was 
 what followed Yukhvanka's case in the note-book. 
 
 After passing by a number of places, Nekhliudof 
 came to a turn in the lane, and there fell in with his 
 overseer Yakof Alpatiteh, who, while the prince was 
 still at a distance, took off his oiled cap, and pulling 
 out a crumpled bandanna handkerchief began to wipe 
 his fat red face. 
 
 44 Cover yourself, Yakof! Yakof, cover yourself, I 
 tell you." 
 
 44 Where do you wish to go, your excellency ? " asked 
 Yakof, using his cap to shield his eyes from the sun, 
 but not putting it on. 
 
 44 I have been at Y r ukhvanka's. Tell me, pray, why 
 does he act so ? " asked the prince as he -walked along 
 the street. 
 
 u Why indeed, your excellency ! " echoed the over- 
 seer as he followed behind the prince in a respectful 
 attitude. He put on his cap, and began to twist his 
 mustache. 
 
 44 What's to be done with him? He's thoroughly 
 good for nothing, lazy, thievish, a liar ; he persecutes 
 his mother, and to all appearances he is such a con- 
 firmed good-for-nothing that there is no reforming 
 him." 
 
 44 1 didn't know, }*our excellency, that he displeased 
 you so." 
 
 1 Little David White. 
 
40 A RUSS/AN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 " And his wife," continued the prince, interrupting 
 the overseer, "seems like a bad woman. The old 
 mother is divssed worse than a beggar, and has nothing 
 to eat ; hut she wears all her best clothes, and SO does 
 he. I really don't know what is to be done with 
 them/' 
 
 Yakof knit his brows thoughtfully when Nekhliudof 
 spoke of Yukhvanka's wife. 
 
 • Well, if he behaves so, your excellency," began 
 the overseer, M then it will be necessary to find some 
 way to correct things. He is in abject poverty like 
 all the peasants who have no assistance, but he seems 
 to mauage his affairs quite differently from the others. 
 He's a clever fellow, knows how to read, and he's far 
 from being a dishonest peasant. At the collection of 
 the poll-taxes he was always on hand. And for three 
 years, while I was overseer he was bailiff, and no 
 fault was found with him. In the third year the war- 
 den took it into his head to depose him, so he was 
 obliged to take to farming. Perhaps when he lived in 
 town at the station he got drunk sometimes, so we 
 had to devise some means. They used to threaten him, 
 in fun, and he came to his senses again. He was good- 
 natured, and got along well with his family. But as it 
 does not please you to use these means, I am sure I 
 don't know what we are to do with him. He has really 
 got very low. He can't be sent into the army, because, 
 as you may be pleased to remember, two of his teeth 
 are missing. Yes, and there are others besides him, 
 I venture to remind you, who absolutely haven't 
 any" . . . 
 
 "Enough of that, Yakof," interrupted Nekhliudof, 
 smiling shrewdly. " You and I have discussed that 
 again and again. You know what ideas I have on this 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 41 
 
 subject ; and whatever you may say to me, I still remain 
 of the same opinion." 
 
 " Certainly, your excellency, j 7 ou understand it all," 
 said Yakof, shrugging his shoulders, and looking ask- 
 ance at the prince as though what he saw were worthy 
 of no consideration. " But as far as the old woman is 
 concerned, I beg you to see that you are disturbing 
 yourself to no purpose," he continued. "Certainly it 
 is true that she has brought up the orphans, she has 
 fed Yukhvanka, and got him a wife, and so forth ; but 
 you know that is common enough among peasants. 
 When the mother or father has transferred the property 1 
 to the son, then the new owners get control, and the 
 old mother is obliged to work for her own living to the 
 utmost of her strength. Of course they are lacking 
 in delicate feelings, but this is common enough among 
 the peasantry ; and so I take the liberty of explaining 
 to you that you are stirred up about the old woman all 
 for nothing. She is a clever old woman, and a good 
 housewife ; 2 is there any reason for a gentleman to 
 worry over her? Well, she has quarrelled with her 
 daughter-in-law ; maybe the young woman struck her : 
 that's like a woman, and they would make up again 
 while you torment yourself. You really take it all too 
 much to heart," said the overseer looking with a cer- 
 tain expression of fondness mingled with condescen- 
 sion at the prince, who was walking silently with long 
 strides before him up the street. 
 
 M Will you go home now? " he added. 
 
 u No, to Davidka Byelui's or Kazyol's — what is his 
 name ? ' ' 
 
 " Well, he's a good-for-nothing, I assure you. All 
 the race of the Kazyols are of the same sort. I 
 
 1 khozydistvo. s khozydika. 
 
42 A RUSStAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 haven't had any success with him ; he cares for noth- 
 ing. Yesterday I rode past the peasant's field, and 
 his buckwheat wasn't even sowed yet. What do you 
 wish done with such people? The old man taught his 
 son, but still he's a good-for-nothing just the same ; 
 whether for himself or for the estate, he makes a 
 bungle of every thing. Neither the warden nor I have 
 been able to do any thing with him : we've sent him to 
 the station-house, and we've punished him at home, 
 because you are pleased now to like "... 
 
 "Who? the old man?" 
 
 "Yes, the old man. The warden more than once 
 has punished him before the whole assembly, and, would 
 you believe it? he would shake himself, go home, and 
 be as bad as ever. And Davidka, I assure }'our excel- 
 lency, is a law-abiding peasant, and a quick-witted 
 peasant ; that is, he doesn't smoke and doesn't drink," 
 explained Yakof ; M and yet he's worse than the other 
 who gets drunk. There's nothing else to do with him 
 than to make a soldier of him or send him to Siberia. 
 All the Kazyols are the same ; and Matriushka who 
 lives in the village belongs to their family, and is the 
 same sort of cursed good-for-nothing. Don't you care 
 to have me here, your excellency? " inquired the over- 
 seer, perceiving that the prince did not heed what he 
 was saying. 
 
 " No, go away," replied Nekhliudof absent-mind- 
 edly, and turned his steps toward Davidka Byelui's. 
 
 Davidka's hovel 1 stood askew and alone at the very 
 edge of the village. It had neither yard, nor cornkiln, 
 nor barn. Only some sort of dirty stalls for cattle were 
 built against one side. On the other a heap of brush- 
 wood and logs was piled up, in imitation of a yard. 2 
 » izba. » dvor. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 43 
 
 Tall green steppe-grass was growing in the place 
 where the court-yard should have been. 
 
 There was no living creature to be seen near the 
 hovel, except a sow lying in the mire at the threshold, 
 and grunting. 
 
 Nekhliudof tapped at the broken window ; but as no 
 one made answer, he went into the entry and shouted, 
 " Holloa there ! " l 
 
 ' This also brought no response. He passed through 
 the entry, peered into the empty stalls, and entered the 
 open hut. 
 
 An old red cock and two hens with ruffs were scratch- 
 ing with their legs, and strutting about over the floor 
 and benches. When they saw a man they spread 
 their wings, and, cackling with terror, flew against the 
 walls, and one took refuge on the oven. 
 
 The whole hut, which was not quite fourteen feet 2 
 square, was occupied by the oven with its broken pipe, 
 a loom, which in spite of its being summer-time was 
 not taken down, and a most filthy table made of a 
 split and uneven plank. 
 
 Although it was a dry situation, there was a filthy 
 puddle at the door, caused by the recent rain, which 
 had leaked through roof and ceiling. Loft there was 
 none. It was hard to realize that this was a human 
 habitation, such decided evidence of neglect and dis- 
 order was impressed upon both the exterior and the 
 interior of the hovel ; nevertheless, in this hovel lived 
 Davidka Byelui and all his family. 
 
 At the present moment, notwithstanding the heat of 
 the June day, Davidka, with his head covered by his 
 sheep-skin, 3 was fast asleep, curled up on one corner of 
 
 1 khozyaeva ; literally, " master and mistress." 
 8 Six ara/dn. 2 polushubok. 
 
44 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 the oven. The panic-stricken hen, skipping up on the 
 oven, and growing more and more agitated, took up 
 her position on Davidka's back, but did not awaken 
 hiin. 
 
 Nekhliudof, seeing no one in the hovel, was about 
 to go, when a prolonged humid sigh betrayed the 
 sleeper. * 
 
 44 Holloa! who's there?*' cried the prince. 
 
 A second prolonged sigh was heard from the oven. 
 
 44 Who's there ? Come here ! " 
 
 Still another sigh, a sort of a bellow, and a heavy 
 yawn responded to the priuce's call. 
 
 44 Well, who are you? " 
 
 Something moved slightly on the oven. The skirt 
 of a torn sheep-skin 2 was lifted ; one huge leg in a 
 dilapidated boot was put down, then another, and 
 finally Davidka's entire figure emerged. He sat up on 
 the oven, and rubbed his eyes drowsily and morosely 
 with his fist. 
 
 Slowly shaking his head, and yawning, he looked 
 down into the hut, and, seeing the prince, began to 
 make greater haste than before ; but still his motions 
 were so slow, that Nekhliudof had time to walk back 
 and forth three times from the puddle to the loom 
 before Davidka got down from the oven. 
 
 Davidka Byelui or David White was white in reality : 
 his hair, and his body, and his face all were perfectly 
 white. 
 
 He was tall and very stout, but stout as peasants 
 are wont to be, that is, not in the waist alone, but in 
 the whole body. His stoutness, however, was of a 
 peculiar flabby, unhealthy kind. His rather comely 
 face, with pale-blue good-natured eyes, and a wide 
 
 1 khozykin. * tulup. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 45 
 
 trimmed beard, bore the impress of ill health. There 
 was not the slightest trace of tan or blood : it was of 
 a uniform yellowish ashen tint, with pale livid circles 
 under the eyes, quite as though his face were stuffed 
 with fat or bloated. 
 
 His hands were puffy and yellow, like the hands of 
 men afflicted with dropsy, and they wore a growth 
 of fine white hair. He was so drowsy that he could 
 scarcely open his eyes or cease from staggering and 
 yawning. 
 
 "Well, aren't j t ou ashamed of yourself," began 
 Nekhliudof, "sleeping in the very best part of the 
 day, 1 when you ought to be attending to your work, 
 when you haven't any corn? " 
 
 As Davidka little by little shook off his drowsiness, 
 and began to realize that it was the prince who was 
 standing before him, he folded his arms across his 
 stomach, hung his head, inclining it a trifle to one 
 side, and did not move a limb or say a word ; but the 
 expression of his face and the pose of his whole body 
 seemed to say, "I know, I know; it is an old story 
 with me. Well, strike me, if it must be : I will endure 
 it." 
 
 He evidently was anxious for the prince to get 
 through speaking and give him his thrashing as 
 quickly as possible, even if he struck him severely on 
 his swollen cheeks, and then leave him in peace. 
 
 Perceiving that Davidka did not understand him, 
 Nekhliudof endeavored by various questions to rouse 
 the peasant from his vexatiously obstinate silence. 
 
 " Why have you asked me for wood when 3'ou have 
 enough to last you a whole month here, and you 
 haven't had any thing to do? What? " 
 
 1 Literally, " middle of the white day." 
 
46 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 Davidka still remained silent, and did not move. 
 
 44 Well, answer me." 
 
 Davidka muttered something, and blinked his white 
 eyelashes. 
 
 44 You must go to work, brother. What will be- 
 come of you if you don't work? Now you have no 
 grain, and what's the reason of it? Because your land 
 is badly ploughed, and not harrowed, and no seed put 
 In at the right time, — all from laziness. You asked 
 me for grain : well, let us suppose that I gave it to 
 you, so as to keep you from starving to death, still it 
 is not becoming to do so. Whose grain do I give 
 you ? whose do you think ? Answer me, — whose grain 
 do I give you? " demanded Nekhliudof obstinately. 
 
 44 The Lord's," muttered Davidka, raising his ej-es 
 timidly and question ingly. 
 
 44 But where did the Lord's grain come from ? Think 
 for yourself, who ploughed for it ? who harrowed ? who 
 planted it? who harvested it? The peasants, hey? 
 Just look here : if the Lord's grain is given to the 
 peasants, then those peasants who work most will get 
 most ; but you work less than anybody. You are com- 
 plained about on all sides. You work less than all the 
 others, and yet you ask for more of the Lord's grain 
 than all the "rest. Why should it be given to you, and 
 not to the others? Now, if all, like you, lay on their 
 backs, it would not be long before everybody in the 
 world died of starvation. Brother, you've got to labor. 
 This is disgraceful. Do you hear, David? " 
 
 44 I hear you," said the other slowly through his 
 teeth. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 47 
 
 At this moment, the window was darkened by the 
 head of a peasant woman who passed carrying some 
 linen on a 3 T oke, and presently Davidka's mother came 
 into the hovel. She was a tall woman, fifty years 
 old very fresh and lively. Her ugly face was covered 
 with pock-marks and wrinkles ; but her straight, firm 
 nose, her delicate, compressed lips, and her keen 
 gray eyes gave witness to her mental strength and 
 energy. 
 
 The angularity of her shoulders, the flatness of her 
 chest, the thinness of her hands, and the solid muscles 
 of her black bare legs, made it evident that she had 
 long ago ceased to be a woman, and had become a 
 mere drudge. 
 
 She came hurrying into the hovel, shut the door, set 
 down her linen, and looked angrily at her son. 
 
 Nekhliudof was about to say something to her, but 
 she turned her back on him, and began to cross herself 
 before the black wooden ikon, that was visible behind 
 the loom. 
 
 When she had thus done, she adjusted the dirty 
 checkered handkerchief which was tied around her 
 head, and made a low obeisance to the prince. 
 
 U A pleasant Lord's day to you, excellency," she 
 said. " God spare you ; you are our father." 
 
 When Davidka saw his mother he grew confused, 
 bent his back a little, and hung his head still lower. 
 
48 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 "Thanks, Arina," replied Nckhliudof. "I have 
 just been talking with your son about your affairs. 1 
 
 Arina or Ar* ahkft KiirMIr, 8 as the peasants used to 
 call her when she was a girl, rested her chin on the 
 clinched fist of her right hand, which she supported 
 with the palm of the left, and, without waiting for the 
 prince to speak further, began to talk so sharply and 
 loud that the whole hovel was filled with the sound 
 of her voice ; and from outside it might have been 
 concluded that several women had suddenly fallen into 
 a discussion. 
 
 " What, my father, what is then to be said to him? 
 You can't talk to him as to a man. Here he stands, 
 the lout," she continued contemptuously, wagging her 
 head in the direction of Davidka's woe-begone, stolid 
 form. 
 
 " How are my affairs, your excellency? We are 
 poor. In your whole village there are none so bad off 
 as we are, either for our own work or for yours. It's 
 a shame ! And it's all his fault. I bore him, fed 
 him, gave him to drink. Didn't expect to have such a 
 lubber. There is but one end to the story. Grain is 
 all gone, and no more work to be got out of him than 
 from that piece of rotten wood. All he knows is to lie 
 on top of the oven, or else he stands here, and scratches 
 his empty pate," she said, mimicking him. 
 
 " If you could only frighten him, father ! I m3 T self 
 beseech you : punish him, for the Lord God's sake ! 
 send him off as a soldier, — it's all one. But he's no 
 good to me, — that's the way it is." 
 
 u Now, aren't you ashamed, Davidka, to bring 
 your mother to this? " said Nekhliudof reproachfully, 
 addressing the peasant. 
 
 1 khozyMstvo. 8 clod-hopper. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 49 
 
 Davidka did not move. 
 
 " One might think that he was a sick peasant," con- 
 tinued Arina, with the same eagerness and the same 
 gestures ; " but only to look at him you can see he's 
 fatter than the pig at the mill. It would seem as if 
 he might have strength enough to work on something, 
 the lubber ! But no, not he ! He prefers to curl him- 
 self up on top of the oven. And even when he under- 
 takes to do any thing, it would make you sick even to 
 look at him, the way he goes about the work! He 
 wastes time when he gets up, when he moves, when he 
 does any thing," said she, dwelling on the words, and 
 awkwardly swaying from side to side with her angular 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Now, here to-day my old man himself went to the 
 forest after wood, and told him to dig a hole ; but he 
 did not even put his hand to the shovel." 
 
 She paused for a moment. 
 
 "He has killed me," she suddenly hissed, gesticu- 
 lating with her arms, and advancing toward her son 
 with threatening gesture. "Curse your smooth, bad 
 face!" 
 
 She scornfully, and at the same time despairingly, 
 turned from him, spat, and again addressed the prince 
 with the same animation, still swinging her arms, but 
 with tears in her eyes. 
 
 " I am the only one, benefactor. My old man is 
 sick, old : yes, and I get no help out of him ; and I 
 am the only one at all. And this fellow hangs around 
 my neck Tike a stone. If he would only die, then it 
 would be easier ; that would be the end of it. He lets 
 me starve, the poltroon. You are our father. There's 
 no help for me. My daughter-in-law died of work, 
 and I shall too." 
 
50 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " How did she die?" inquired Nekhliudof, somewhat 
 sceptically. 
 
 " She died of hard work, as God knows, benefactor. 
 We brought her last year from Baburin," she con- 
 tinued, suddenly changing her wrathful expression to 
 one of tearfulness and grief. " Well, the woman * 
 was young, fresh, obliging, good stuff. As a girl, she 
 lived at home with her father in clover, never knew 
 want ; and when she came to us, then she learned to 
 do our work, — for the estate and at home and every- 
 where. . . . She and I — that was all to do it. What 
 was it to me? I was used to it. She was going to 
 have a baby, good father; and she began to suffer 
 pain ; and all because she worked beyond her strength. 
 Well, she did herself harm, the poor little sweetheart. 
 Last summer, about the time of the feast of Peter and 
 Paul, she had a poor little boy born. But there was 
 no bread. We ate whatever we could get, my father. 
 She went to work too soon : her milk all dried up. 
 The baby was her first-born. There was no cow, and 
 we were mere peasants. She had to feed him on rye. 
 Well, of course, it was sheer folly. It kept pining 
 awa} r on this. And when the child died, she became 
 so down-spirited, — she would sob and sob, and howl 
 and howl; and then it was poverty and work, and all 
 the time going from bad to worse. So she passed 
 
 1 baba. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 51 
 
 away in the summer, the sweetheart, at the time of 
 the feast of St. Mary's Intercession. He brought her 
 to it, the beast," she cried, turning to her son with 
 wrathful despair. " I wanted to ask your excellency 
 a favor," she continued after a short pause, lowering 
 her voice, and making an obeisance. 
 
 44 What? " asked Nekhliudof in some constraint. 
 
 "You see he's a young peasant still. He demands 
 so much work of me. To-day I am alive, to-morrow 
 I may die. How can he live without a wife? He 
 won't be any good to you at all. Help us to find some 
 one for him, good father." 
 
 " That is, you want to get a wife for him? What? 
 What an idea ! " 
 
 44 God's will be done ! You are in the place of 
 parents to us." 
 
 And after making a sign to her son, she and the 
 man threw themselves on the floor at the prince's feet. 
 
 44 Why do you stoop to the ground?" asked Nekh- 
 liudof peevishly, taking her by the shoulder. 44 You 
 know I don't like this sort of thing. Marry your son, 
 of course, if you have a girl in view. I should be 
 very glad if you had a daughter-in-law to help you." 
 
 The old woman got up, and began to rub her dry 
 eyes with her sleeves. Davidka followed her example, 
 and, rubbing his eyes with his weak fist, with the same 
 patiently-submissive expression, continued to stand, 
 and listen to what Arina said. 
 
 44 Plenty of brides, certainly. Here's Vasiutka 
 Mikheikin's daughter, and a right good girl she is ; but 
 the girl would not come to us without your consent." 
 
 44 Isn't she willing? " 
 
 44 No, benefactor, she isn't." 
 
 44 Well, what's to be done? I can't compel her. 
 
52 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 Select some one else. If you can't find one at home, 
 go to another village. I will pay for her, only she 
 must come of her own free will. It is impossible to 
 marry her by force. There's no law allows that ; that 
 would be a great sin." 
 
 " E~e~kh I benefactor! Is it possible that anyone 
 would come to us of her own accord, seeing our way 
 of life, our wretchedness? Not even the wife of a 
 soldier would like to undergo such want. What peasant 
 would let us have his daughter? 1 It is not to be 
 expected. You see we're in the very depths of pov- 
 erty. They will say, ' Since you starved one to death, 
 it will be the same with my daughter.' Who is to 
 give her?" she added, shaking her head dubiously. 
 44 Give us your advice, excellency." 
 
 "Well, what can I do?" 
 
 " Think of some one for us, kind sir," repeated 
 Arina urgently. " What are we to do? " 
 
 44 How can I think of any one? I can't do any 
 thing at all for you as things are." • 
 
 44 Who will help us if you do not?" said Arina, 
 drooping her head, and spreading her palms with an 
 expression of melancholy discontent. 
 
 44 Here you ask for grain, and so I will give orders 
 for some to be delivered to you," said the prince after 
 a short silence, during which Arina sighed, and 
 Davidka imitated her. 44 But I cannot do anything 
 more. 
 
 Nekhliudof went into the entry. Mother and son 
 with low bows followed the prince. 
 
 1 dyevka, marriageable girl. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 53 
 
 XII. 
 
 " O-okh ! alas for my wretchedness!" exclaimed 
 Arina, sighing deeply. 
 
 She paused, and looked angrily at her son. Davidka 
 immediately turned around, and, clumsily lifting his 
 stout leg incased in a huge dirty boot over the thresh- 
 old, took refuge in the opposite door. 
 
 "What shall I do with him, father?" continued 
 Arina, turning to the prince. " You yourself see what 
 he is. He is not a bad man ; 1 doesn't get drunk, and 
 is peaceable ; wouldn't hurt a little child. It's a sin 
 to say hard things of him. There's nothing bad about 
 him, and God knows what has taken place in him to 
 make him so bad to himself. You see he himself does 
 not like it. Would you believe it, father, 2 my heart 
 bleeds when I look at him, and see what suffering he 
 undergoes. You see, whatever he is, he is my son. 
 I pity him. Oh, how I pity him ! . . . You see, it 
 isn't as though he had done any thing against me or 
 his father or the authorities. But, no : he's a bashful 
 man, almost like a child. How can he bear to be a 
 widower? Help us out, benefactor," she said once 
 more, evidently desirous of removing the unfavorable 
 impression which her bitter words might have left upon 
 the prince. "Father, your excellency, I" — She 
 went on to say in a confidential whisper, " My wit 
 
 1 muzhik. 8 bdtiushka. 
 
54 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 does not go far enough to explain him. It seems as 
 though bad men had spoiled him." 
 
 She paused for a momeut. 
 
 M If we could find the men, we might cure him." 
 
 44 What nonsense you talk, Ariua ! How can he be 
 spoiled ? ' ' 
 
 "My father, they spoil him so that they make him 
 a no-man forever ! Many bad people in the world ! 
 Out of ill-will they take a handful of earth from out 
 of oue's path, or something of that sort ; and one is 
 made a no-man forever after. Isn't that a sin? I 
 think to myself, Might I not go to the old man Danduk, 
 who lives at Vorobyevka ? He knows all sorts of words ; 
 and he knows herbs, and he can make charms ; and he 
 finds water with a cross. Wouldn't he help me?" 
 said the woman. " Maybe he will cure him." 
 
 "What abjectness and superstition!" thought the 
 young prince, shaking his head gloomily, and walking 
 back with long strides through the village. 
 
 "What's to be done with him? To leave him in 
 this situation is impossible, both for myself and for 
 the others and for him, — impossible," he said to him- 
 self, counting off on his fingers these reasons. 
 
 " I cannot bear to see him in this plight; but how 
 extricate him? He renders nugatory all my best plans 
 for the management of the estate. If such peasants 
 are allowed, none of my dreams will ever be realized," 
 he went on, experiencing a feeling of despite and 
 anger against the peasant in consequence of the ruin 
 of his plans. " To send him to Siberia, as Yakof 
 suggests, against his will, would that be good for him? 
 or to make him a soldier? That is best. At least I 
 should be quit of him, and I could replace him by a 
 decent peasant." 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 55 
 
 Such was his decision. 
 
 He thought about this with satisfaction ; but at the 
 same time something obscurely told him that he was 
 thinking with only one side of his mind, and not 
 wholly right. 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " I will think about it some more," he said to him- 
 self. "To send him off as a soldier — why? He is 
 a good man, better than many ; and I know . . . 
 Shall I free him? " he asked himself, putting the ques- 
 tion from a different side of his mind. "It wouldn't 
 be fair. Yes, it's impossible." 
 
 But suddenly a thought occurred to him that greatly 
 pleased him. He smiled with the expression of a man 
 who has decided a difficult question. 
 
 " I will take him to the house," he said to himself. 
 " I will look after him myself ; and by means of kind- 
 ness and advice, and selecting his employment, I will 
 teach him to work, and reform him." 
 
56 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 "That's the way I'll do," said Nckhliudof to him- 
 self with a pleasant self-consciousness; and then, rec- 
 ollecting that he had still to go to the rich peasant 
 Dutlof, he directed his steps toward a lofty and ample 
 establishment, with two chimneys, standing in the 
 midst of the village. 
 
 As he passed a neighboring hut on his way thither, he 
 stopped to speak with a tall, disorderly-looking peasant- 
 woman of forty summers, who came to meet him. 
 
 " A pleasant holiday, father," ' she said, with some 
 show of assurance, stopping at a little distance from 
 him with a pleased smile and a low obeisance. 
 
 "Good-morning, my nurse. How are you? I was 
 just going to see 3'our neighbor." 
 
 "Pretty well, your excellency, my father. It's a 
 good idea. But won't you come in? I beg you to. 
 My old man would be very pleased." 
 
 " Well, I'll come ; and we'll have a little talk with 
 you, nurse. Is this your house?" 
 
 "It is, sir." 1 
 
 And the nurse led the way into the hut. Nekhliudof 
 followed her into the entry, and sat down on a tub, 
 and began to smoke a cigarette. 
 
 "It's hot inside. It's better to sit down here, and 
 have our talk," he said in reply to the woman's invi- 
 tation to go into the hut. 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 57 
 
 The nurse was a well-preserved and handsome 
 woman. In the features of her countenance, and 
 especially in her big black eyes, there was a strong 
 resemblance to the prince himself. She folded her 
 hands under her apron, and looking fearlessly at him, 
 and incessantly moving her head, began to talk with 
 him. 
 
 " Why is it, father? why do you wish to visit 
 Dutlof?" 
 
 " Oh, I am anxious for him to take thirty desiatins 1 
 of land of me, and enlarge his domain ; and moreover 
 I want him to buy some wood from me also. You see, 
 he has money, so why should it be idle? What do 
 you think about it, nurse? " 
 
 "Well, what can I say? The Dutlofs are strong 
 people : he's the leading peasant in the whole estate," 
 replied the nurse, shaking her head. " Last summer 
 he built another building out of his own lumber. He 
 did not call upon the estate at all. He has horses, and 
 yearling colts besides, at least six troikas, and cattle, 
 cows, and sheep ; so that it is a sight worth seeing 
 when they are driven along the street from pasture, 
 and the women of the house come out to get them into 
 the yard. There is such a crush of animals at the 
 gate that they can scarcely get through, so many of 
 them there are. And two hundred bee-hives at the 
 very least. He is a strong peasant, and must have 
 money." 
 
 " But what do you think, — has he much money? " 
 asked the prince. 
 
 "Men say, out of spite of course, that the old 
 man has no little money. But he does not go round 
 talking about it, and he does not tell even his sons, 
 
 1 eighty-one acres. 
 
58 A RUSSfAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 but he must have. Why shouldn't he take hold of the 
 woodland? Perhaps he is afraid of getting the repu- 
 tation for money. Five years ago he went into a small 
 business with Shkalik the porter. They got some 
 meadow-land ; and this Shkalik, some way or other, 
 cheated him, so that the old man was three hundred 
 rubles out of pocket. And from that time he has 
 sworn off. How can he help being forehanded, your 
 excellency, father? " continued the nurse. " He has 
 three farms, a big family, all workers ; and besides, 
 the old man — it is hard to say it — is a capital man- 
 ager. He is lucky in every thing ; it is surprising, — 
 in his grain and in his horses and in his cattle and in 
 his bees, and he's lucky in his children. Now he has 
 got them all married off. He has found husbands for 
 his daughters ; and he has just married Ilyushka, and 
 given him his freedom. He himself bought the letter 
 of enfranchisement. And so a fine woman has come 
 into his house." 
 
 "Well, do they live harmoniously?" asked the 
 prince. 
 
 " As long as there's the right sort of a head to the 
 house, they get along. Yet even the Dutlofs — but of 
 course that's among the women. The daughters-in- 
 law bark at each other a little behind the oven, but 
 the old man generally holds them in hand ; and the 
 sons live harmoniously." 
 
 The nurse was silent for a little. 
 
 "Now, the old man, we hear, wants to leave his 
 eldest son, Karp, as master of the house. ' I am get- 
 ting old,' says he. ' It's my business to attend to the 
 bees.' Well, Karp is a good peasant, a careful peasant ; 
 but he doesn't manage to please the old man in the 
 least. There's no sense in it." 
 
A RUSS/AN PROPRIETOR. 59 
 
 "Well, perhaps Karp wants to speculate in land 
 and wood. What do you think about it?" pursued 
 the prince, wishing to learn from the woman all that 
 she knew about her neighbors. 
 
 "Scarcely, sir," 1 continued the nurse. "The old 
 man hasn't disclosed his money to his son. As long 
 as he lives, of course, the money in the house will be 
 under the old man's control ; and it will increase all 
 the time too." 
 
 " But isn't the old man willing? " 
 
 "He is afraid." 
 
 " What is he afraid of ? " 
 
 " How is it possible, sir, for a seignorial peasant to 
 make a noise about his money? And it's a hard ques- 
 tion to decide what to do with money anyway. Here 
 he went into business with the porter, and was cheated. 
 Where was he to get redress? And so he lost his 
 money. But with the proprietor he would have any 
 loss made good immediately, of course." 
 
 "Yes, hence," . . . said Nekhliudof, reddening. 
 "But good-by, nurse." 
 
 " Good-by, sir, } T our excellency. Greatly obliged 
 to you." 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
60 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Hadn't I better go home?" mused Nekhliudof, 
 as he strode along toward the Dutlof enclosure, and 
 felt a boundless melancholy and moral weariness. 
 
 But at this moment the new deal gates were thrown 
 open before him with a creaking sound ; and a hand- 
 some, ruddy fellow of eighteen in wagoner's attire 
 appeared, leading a troika of powerful-limbed and still 
 sweaty horses. He hastily brushed back his blonde 
 hair, and bowed to the prince. 
 
 "Well, is your father at home, Ilya?" asked 
 Nekhliudof. 
 
 " At the bee-house, back of the yard," replied the 
 youth, driving the horses, one after the other, through 
 the half-opened gates. 
 
 "I will not give it up. I will make the proposal. 
 I will do the best I can," reflected Nekhliudof; and, 
 after waiting till the horses had passed out, he entered 
 DutloFs spacious yard. 
 
 It was plain to see that the manure had only recently 
 been carried away. The ground was still black and 
 damp ; and in places, particularly in the hollows, were 
 left red fibrous clots. 
 
 In the yard and under the high sheds, many carts 
 stood in orderly rows, together with ploughs, sledges, 
 harrows, barrels, and all sorts of farming implements. 
 Doves were flitting about, cooing in the shadows under 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 61 
 
 the broad solid rafters. There was an odor of manure 
 and tar. 
 
 In one corner Karp and Ignat were fitting a new 
 cross-bar to a large iron -mounted, three-horse cart. 
 
 All three of Dutlof's sons bore a strong family 
 resemblance. The youngest, Ilya, who had met Nekh- 
 liudof at the gate, was beardless, of smaller stature, 
 ruddier complexion, and more neatly dressed, than the 
 others. The second, Ignat, was rather taller and 
 darker. He had a wedge-shaped beard ; and though 
 he wore boots, a driver's shirt, and a lamb's-skin cap, 
 he had not such a festive, holiday appearance as his 
 brother had. 
 
 The eldest, Karp, was still taller. He wore clogs, 
 a gray kaftan, and a shirt without gussets. He had a 
 reddish beard, trimmed ; and his expression was 
 serious, even to severity. 
 
 "Do you wish my father sent for, your excellency? " 
 he asked, coming to meet the prince, and bowing 
 slightly and awkwardly. 
 
 "No, I will go to him at the hives : I wish to see 
 what he's building there. But I should like a talk with 
 you," said Nekhliudof, drawing him to the other side 
 of the yard, so that Ignat might not overhear what he 
 was about to talk about with Karp. 
 
 The self-confidence and degree of pride noticeable 
 in the deportment of the two peasants, and what the 
 nurse had told the young prince, so troubled him, that 
 it was difficult for him to make up his mind to speak 
 with them about the matter proposed. 
 
 He had a sort of guilty feeling, and it seemed to 
 him easier to speak with one brother out of the hearing 
 of the other. Karp seemed surprised that the prince 
 took him to one side, but he followed him. 
 
62 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 "Well, now," began Nckhliiulof awkwardly, — "I 
 wished to inquire of you if you had mauy horses." 
 
 44 We have about five troikas, also some colts," 
 replied Karp in a free-and-easy manner, scratching his 
 back. 
 
 44 Well, are your brothers going to take out relays 
 of horses for the post? " 
 
 44 We shall send out three troikas to carry the mail. 
 And there's Ilyushka, he has been off with his team ; 
 but he's just come back." 
 
 44 Well, is that profitable for 3 r ou? How much do 
 you earn that way? " 
 
 44 What do you mean by profit, your excellenc}'? 
 We at least get enough to live on and bait our horses, 
 thank God for that!" 
 
 44 Then, why don't you take hold of something 
 else? You see, you might buy wood, or take more 
 land." 
 
 44 Of course, your excellency: we might rent some 
 land if there were any convenient." 
 
 44 1 wish to make a proposition to }'OU. Since you 
 only make enough out of your teaming to live on, 
 you had better take thirty desiatins of land from me. 
 All that strip behind Sapof I will let you have, and 
 you can carry on }our farming better." 
 
 And Nekhliudof, carried away by his plan for a 
 peasant farm, which more than once he had proposed 
 to himself, and deliberated about, began fluently to 
 explain to the peasant his proposition about it. 
 
 Karp listened attentively to the prince's words. 
 
 44 We are very grateful for your kindness," said he, 
 when Nekhliudof stopped, and looked at him in expec- 
 tation of his answer. 44 0f course here there's noth- 
 ing very bad. To occupy himself with farming is 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 63 
 
 better for a peasant than to go off as a whip. He 
 goes among strangers ; he sees all sorts of men ; he 
 gets wild. It's the very best thing for a peasant, to 
 occupy himself with land." 
 
 " You think so, do you ? " 
 
 "As long as my father is alive, how can I think, 
 your excellency? It's as he wills." 
 
 u Take me to the beehives. I will talk with him." 
 
 "Come with me this way," said Karp, slowly 
 directing himself to the barn back of the house. He 
 opened a low gate which led to the apiary, and after 
 letting the prince pass through, he shut it, and returned 
 to Ignat, and silently took up his interrupted labors. 
 
64 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Nekiiliudof, stooping low, passed through the low 
 gate, under the gloomy shed, to the apiary, which was 
 situated behind the yard. 
 
 A small space, surrounded by straw and a wattled 
 hedge, through the chinks of which the light streamed, 
 was filled with beehives symmetrically arranged, and 
 covered with shavings, while the golden bees were 
 humming around them. Every thing was bathed in the 
 warm and brilliant ra}*s of the July sun. 
 
 From the gate a well-trodden footway led through 
 the middle to a wooden side-building, with a tin-foil 
 image on it gleaming brightty in the sun. 
 
 A few orderly young lindens lifting, above the 
 thatched roof of the neighboring court-yard, their 
 bushy tops, almost audibly rustled their dark-green, 
 fresh foliage, in unison with the sound of the buzzing 
 bees. All the shadows from the covered hedge, from 
 the lindens, and from the hives, fell dark and short on 
 the delicate curling grass springing up between the 
 planks. 
 
 The* bent, small figure of the old man, with his gray 
 hair and bald spot shining in the sun, was visible near 
 the door of a straw-thatched structure situated among 
 the lindens. "When he heard the creaking of the 
 gate, the old man looked up, and wiping his heated, 
 sweaty face with the flap of his shirt, and smiling with 
 pleasure, came to meet the prince. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 65 
 
 In the apiar} 7 it was so comfortable, so pleasant, so 
 warm, so free ! The figure of the gray-haired old man, 
 with thick wrinkles radiating from his eyes, and wear- 
 ing wide shoes on his bare feet, as he came waddling 
 along, good-naturedly and contentedly smiling, to wel- 
 come the prince to his own private possessions, was so 
 ingenuously soothing that Nekhliudof for a moment 
 forgot the trying impressions of the morning, and his 
 cherished dream came vividly up before him. He 
 already saw all his peasants just as prosperous and 
 contented as the old man Dutlof, and all smiling 
 soothingly and pleasantly upon him, because to him 
 alone they were indebted for their prosperity and 
 happiness. 
 
 " Would you like a net, your excellency? The bees 
 are angry now," said the old man, taking down from 
 the fence a dirty gingham bag fragrant of honey, and 
 handing it to the prince. "The bees know me, and 
 don't sting," he added, with the pleasant smile that 
 rarely left his handsome sunburned face. 
 
 "I don't need it either. Well, are they swarming 
 yet ? ' ' asked Nekhliudof, also smiling, though without 
 knowing why. 
 
 "Yes, they are swarming, father, Mitri Mikolaye- 
 vitch," 1 replied the old man, throwing an expression 
 of peculiar endearment into this form of addressing 
 his barin by his name and patronymic. " They have 
 only just begun to swarm ; it has been a cold spring, 
 you know." 
 
 " I have just been reading in a book," began Nekh- 
 liudof, defending himself from a bee which had got 
 entangled in his hair, and was buzzing under his ear, 
 " that if the wax stands straight on the bars, then the 
 
 1 bdtiushka; Mitri Mikolayevitch, rustic for Dmitri Nikolayevitch. 
 
66 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 bees swarm earlier. Therefore such hives as are made 
 of boards . . . with cross-b — " 
 
 u You don't want to gesticulate; that makes it 
 worse," said the little old man. " Now don't you 
 think you had better put on the net? " 
 
 Nekhliudof felt a sharp pain, but by some sort of 
 childish egotism he did not wish to give in to it ; and 
 so, once more refusing the bag, continued to talk with 
 the old man about the construction of hives, about 
 which he had read in M Maison Rustique," and which, 
 according to his idea, ought to be made twice as large. 
 But another bee stung him in the neck, and he lost the 
 thread of his discourse and stopped short in the midst 
 of it. 
 
 "That's well enough, father, Mitri Mikolayevitch," 
 said the old man, looking at the prince with paternal 
 protection ; " that's well enough in books, as you say. 
 Yes ; maybe the advice is given with some deceit, with 
 some hidden meaning ; but only just let him do as he 
 advises, and we shall be the first to have a good laugh 
 at his expense. And this happens ! How are you 
 going to teach the bees where to deposit their wax? 
 They themselves put it on the cross-bar, sometimes 
 straight and sometimes aslant. Just look here! " he 
 continued, opening one of the nearest hives, and gaz- 
 ing at the entrance-hole blocked by a bee buzzing and 
 crawling on the crooked comb. " Here's a young one. 
 It sees ; at its head sits the queen, but it lays the wax 
 straight and sideways, both according to the position 
 of the block," said the old man, evidently carried away 
 by his interest in his occupation, and not heeding the 
 prince's situation. u Now, to-day, it will fly with the 
 pollen. To-day is warm ; it's on the watch," he con- 
 tinued, again covering up the hive and pinning down 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 67 
 
 with a cloth the crawling bee ; and then brushing off 
 into his rough palm a few of the insects from his 
 wrinkled neck. 
 
 The bees did not sting him ; but as for Nekhliudof, 
 he could scarcely refrain from the desire to beat a 
 retreat from the apiary. The bees had already stung 
 him in three places, and were buzzing angrily on all 
 sides around his head and neck. 
 
 " You have many hives?" he asked as he retreated 
 toward the gate. 
 
 " What God has given," replied Dutlof sarcastically. 
 "It is not necessary to count them, father; the bees 
 don't like it. Now, your excellency, I wanted to ask 
 a favor of you," he went on to say, pointing to the 
 small posts standing by the fence. "It was about 
 Osip, the nurse's husband. If you would only speak 
 to him. In our village it's so hard to act in a neigh- 
 borly way ; it's not good." 
 
 "How so? . . . Ah, how they sting!" exclaimed 
 the prince, already seizing the latch of the gate. 
 
 " Every year now, he lets his bees out among my 
 young ones. We could stand it, but strange bees get 
 away their comb and kill them," said the old man, 
 not heeding the prince's grimaces. 
 
 "Very well, b} r and by; right away," said Nekh- 
 liudof. And having no longer strength of will to 
 endure, he hastily beat a retreat through the gate, 
 fighting his tormentors with both hands. 
 
 " Rub it with dirt. It's nothing," said the old man, 
 coming to the door after the prince. The prince took 
 some earth, and rubbed the spot where he had been 
 stung, and reddened as he cast a quick glance at Karp 
 and Ignat, who did not deign to look at him. Then he 
 frowned angrily. 
 
68 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 u I wanted to ask you something about my sons, 
 your excellency," said the old man, either pretending 
 not to notice, or really not noticing, the prince's angry 
 face. 
 
 44 What?" 
 
 44 Well, we are well provided with horses, praise the 
 Lord! and that's our trade, and so we don't have to 
 work on your land." 
 
 44 What do you mean? " 
 
 44 If you would only be kind enough to let my sons 
 have leave of absence, then Ilyushka and Iguat would 
 take three troikas, and go out teaming for all summer. 
 Maybe they'd earn something." 
 
 44 Where would they go? " 
 
 44 Just as it happened," replied Ilyushka, who at 
 this moment, having put the horses under the shed, 
 joined his father. "The Kadminski boys went with 
 eight horses to Romen. Not only earned their own 
 living, they say, but brought back a gain of more than 
 three hundred per cent. Fodder, they say, is cheap at 
 Odest." 
 
 44 Well, that's the very thing I wanted to talk 
 with you about," said the prince, addressing the 
 old man, and anxious to draw him shrewdly into a 
 talk about the farm. 44 Tell me, please, if it would 
 be more profitable to go to teaming than farming at 
 home?" 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 69 
 
 M Why not more profitable, your excellency? " said 
 Ilyushka, again putting in his word, and at the same 
 time quickly shaking back his hair. " There's no way 
 of keeping horses at home." 
 
 14 Well, how much do you earn in the summer? " 
 
 "Since spring, as feed was high, we went to Kief 
 with merchandise, and to Kursk, and back again to 
 Moscow with grits ; and in that way we earned our 
 living. And our horses had enough, and we brought 
 back fifteen rubles in money." 
 
 44 There's no harm in taking up with an honorable 
 profession, whatever it is," said the prince, again 
 addressing the old man. "But it seems to me that 
 you might find another form of activity. And besides, 
 this work is such that a young man goes everywhere. 
 He sees all sorts of people, — may get wild," he 
 added, quoting Karp's words. 
 
 44 What can we peasants take up with, if not team- 
 ing?" objected the old man with his sweet smile. 
 "If you are a good driver, you get enough to eat, 
 and so do your horses ; but, as regards mischief, they 
 are just the same as at home, thank the Lord ! It 
 isn't the first time that they have been. I have been 
 myself, and never saw any harm in it, nothing but 
 good." 
 
 "How many other things you might find to do at 
 home ! with fields and meadows " — 
 
 "How is it possible?" interrupted Ilyushka with 
 animation. " We were born for this. All the regu- 
 lations are at our fingers' ends. We like the work. 
 It's the most enjoyable we have, your excellency. How 
 we like to go teaming ! " 
 
 "Your excellency, will you not do us the honor of 
 coming into the house? You have not yet seen our 
 
70 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 new domicile," said the old man, bowing low, and 
 winking to his son. 
 
 Ilyushka hastened into the house, and Nekhliudof 
 and the old man followed after him. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 71 
 
 XVII. 
 
 As soon as he got into the house, the old man bowed 
 once more ; then using his coat-tail to dust the bench 
 in the front of the room, he smiled, and said, — 
 
 " What do you want of us, your excellency? " 
 
 The hut was bright and roomy, with a chimney ; 
 and it had a loft and berths. The fresh aspen- wood 
 beams, between which could be seen the moss, scarcely 
 faded, were as yet not turned dark. The new benches 
 and the loft were not polished smooth, and the floor 
 was not worn. One young peasant woman, rather 
 lean, with a serious oval face, was sitting on a berth, 
 and using her foot to rock a hanging cradle that was 
 suspended from the ceiling by a long hook. This 
 was Ilya's wife. 
 
 In the cradle lay at full length a suckling child, 
 scarcely breathing, and with closed eyes. 
 
 Another young woman, robust and rosy-cheeked, 
 with her sleeves rolled up above her elbows, show- 
 ing strong arms and hands red even higher than her 
 wrists, was standing in front of the oven, and mincing 
 onions in a wooden dish. This was Karp's wife. 
 
 A pock-marked woman, showing signs of pregnancy, 
 which she tried to conceal, was standing near the oven. 
 The room was hot, not only from the summer sun, but 
 from the heat of the oven ; and there was a strong 
 smell of baking bread. 
 
 Two flaxen-headed little bo3 T s and a girl gazed down 
 
72 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 from the loft upon the prince, with faces full of curi- 
 osity. They had come in, expecting something to 
 eat. 
 
 Nekhliudof was delighted to see this happy house- 
 hold ; and at the same time he felt a sense of con- 
 straint in presence of these peasants, men and women, 
 all looking at him. He flushed a little as he sat down 
 on the bench. 
 
 " Give me a crust of hot bread : I am fond of it," 
 said he, and the flush deepened. 
 
 Karp's wife cut off a huge slice of bread, and 
 handed it on a plate to the prince. Nekhliudof said 
 nothing, not knowing what to say. The women also 
 were silent, the old man smiled benevolently. 
 
 "Well, now why am I so awkward? as though I 
 were to blame for something," thought Nekhliudof. 
 " Why shouldn't I make my proposition about the 
 farm? What stupidity ! " Still he remained silent. 
 
 " Well, father Mitri Mikolayevitch, what are you 
 going to say about my boys' proposal?" asked the 
 old man. 
 
 "I should advise you absolutely not to send them 
 away, but to have them stay at home, and work," 
 said Nekhliudof, suddenly collecting his wits. " You 
 know what I have proposed to you. Go in with me, 
 and buy some of the crown woods and some more 
 land" — 
 
 " But how are we going to get money to buy it, your 
 excellency? " he asked, interrupting the prince. 
 
 " Why, it isn't very much wood, only two hundred 
 rubles' worth," replied Nekhliudof. 
 
 The old man gave an indignant laugh. 
 
 "Very good, if that's all. Why not buy it?" 
 said he. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR 73 
 
 "Haven't you money enough? " asked the prince 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " Okh I Sir, your excellency!" replied the old 
 man, with grief expressed in his tone, looking appre- 
 hensively toward the door. "Only enough to feed 
 my family, not enough to buy woodland." 
 
 " But you know you have money, — what do you do 
 with it? " insisted Nekhliudof. 
 
 The old man suddenly fell into a terrible state of 
 excitement: his eyes flashed, his shoulders began to 
 twitch. 
 
 "Wicked men may say all sorts of things about 
 me," he muttered in a trembling voice. "But, so 
 may God be my witness ! " he said, growing more and 
 more animated, and turning his eyes toward the ikon, 
 " may my eyes crack, may I perish with all my family, 
 if I have any thing more than the fifteen silver rubles 
 which Ilyushka brought home ; and we have to pay the 
 poll-tax, you yourself know that. And we built the 
 hut" — 
 
 "Well, well, all right," said the prince, rising from 
 the bench. " Good- by, friends." 1 
 
 1 Proshchaite, khozy&eva. 
 
74 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 "My God! my God!" was Nekhliudofs mental 
 exclamation, as with long strides he hastened home 
 through the shady alleys of his weed-grown garden, 
 and, absent-mindedly, snapped off the leaves and 
 branches which fell in his way. 
 
 44 Is it possible that my dreams about the ends and 
 duties of my life are all idle nonsense? Why is it 
 hard for me, and mournful, as though I were dissatis- 
 fied with myself because I imagined that having once 
 begun this course I should constantly experience the 
 fulness of the morally pleasant feeling which I had 
 when, for the first time, these thoughts came to me? " 
 
 And with extraordinary vividness and distinctness 
 he saw in his imagination that happy moment which 
 he had experienced a year before. 
 
 He had arisen very early, before every one else in 
 the house, and feeling painfully those secret, indescrib- 
 able impulses of 3011th, he had gone aimlessly out into 
 the garden, and from there into the woods ; and, 
 amid the energetic but tranquil nature pulsing with the 
 new life of Maytime, he had wandered long alone, 
 without thought, and suffering from the exuberance of 
 some feeling, and not finding any expression for it. 
 
 Then, with all the allurement of what is unknown, 
 his youthful imagination brought up before him the 
 voluptuous form of a woman ; and it seemed to him 
 that was the object of his indescribable longing. But 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 75 
 
 another, deeper sentiment said, Not that, and impelled 
 him to search and be disturbed in mind. 
 
 Without thought or desire, as always happens after 
 extra activity, he lay on his back under a tree, and 
 looked at the diaphanous morning-clouds drifting over 
 him across the deep, endless sky. 
 
 Suddenly, without any reason, the tears sprang to 
 his eyes, and God knows in what way the thought came 
 to him with perfect clearness, filling all his soul and 
 giving him intense delight, — the thought that love and 
 righteousness are the same as truth and enjoyment, 
 and that there is only one truth, and only one possible 
 happiness, in the world. 
 
 The deeper feeling this time did not say, Not that. 
 He sat up, and began to verify this thought. 
 
 " That is it, that is it," said he to himself, in a sort 
 of ecstasy, measuring all his former convictions, all the 
 phenomena of his life, by the truth just discovered to 
 him, and as it seemed to him absolutely new. 
 
 " What stupidity! All that I knew, all that I be- 
 lieved in, all that I loved," he had said to himself. 
 M Love is self-deling ; this is the only true happiness 
 independent of chance," he had said over and over 
 again, smiling and waving his hands. 
 
 Applying this thought on every side to life, and 
 finding in it confirmation both of life and that inner 
 voice which told him that this was it, he had ex- 
 perienced a new feeling of pleasant agitation and 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " And so I ought to do good if I would be happy," 
 he thought ; and all his future vividly came up before 
 him, not as an abstraction, but in images in the form 
 of the life of a proprietor. 
 
 He saw before him a huge field, conterminous with 
 
76 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 his whole life, which he was to consecrate to the good, 
 and in which really he should find happiness. There 
 was no need for him to search for a sphere of activity ; 
 it was all ready. He had one out-and-out obligation : 
 he had his serfs. . . . 
 
 And what comfortable and beneficent labor lay 
 before him! " To work for this simple, impression- 
 able, incorruptible class of people ; to lift them from 
 poverty ; to give them pleasure ; to give them education 
 which, fortunately, I will turn to use in correcting their 
 faults, which arise from ignorance and superstition ; 
 to develop their morals ; to induce them to love the 
 right. . . . What a brilliant, happy future ! And 
 besides all this, I, who am going to do this for my own 
 happiness, shall take delight in their appreciation, 
 shall see how every day I shall go farther and far- 
 ther toward my predestined end. A wonderful future ! 
 Why could I not have seen this before? 
 
 11 And besides," so he had thought at the same time, 
 " who will hinder me from being happy in love for a 
 woman, in enjoyment of family? M 
 
 And his youthful imagination portrayed before him 
 a still more bewitching future. 
 
 "I and my wife, whom I shall love as no one ever 
 loved a wife before in the world, we shall always live 
 amid this restful, poetical, rural nature, with our chil- 
 dren, maybe, and with my old aunt. We have our 
 love for each other, our love for our children ; and we 
 shall both know that our aim is the right. We shall 
 help each other in pressing on to this goal. I shall 
 make general arrangements ; I shall give general aid 
 when it is right ; I shall carry on the farm, the savings 
 bank, the workshop. And she, with her dear little 
 head, and dressed in a simple white dress, which she 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 11 
 
 lifts above her dainty ankle as she steps through the 
 mud, will go to the peasants' school, to the hospital, to 
 some unfortunate peasant who in truth does not de- 
 serve help, and everywhere carry comfort and aid. . . . 
 Children, old men, women, will wait for her, and look 
 on her as on some angel, as on Providence. Then she 
 will return, and hide from me the fact that she has 
 been to see the unfortunate peasant, and given him 
 money ; but I shall know all, and give her a hearty 
 hug, and rain kisses thick and fast on her lovely eyes, 
 her modestly-blushing cheeks, and her smiling, rosy 
 lips." . 
 
78 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "Wiiere are those dreams?" the young man now 
 asked himself as he walked home after his round of 
 visits. u HSre more than a year has passed since I 
 have been seeking for happiness in this course, and 
 what have I found? It is true, I sometimes feel that 
 I can be contented with myself; but this is a dry, 
 doubtful kind of content. Yet, no ; I am simply dis- 
 satisfied ! I am dissatisfied because I find no happiness 
 here ; and I desire, I passionately long for, happiness. 
 I have not experienced delight, I have cut myself off 
 from all that gives it. Wherefore? for what end? 
 Does that make it easier for any one ? 
 
 " My aunt was right when she wrote that it is easier 
 to find happiness than to give it to others. Have my 
 peasants become any richer? Have they learned any 
 thing? or have they shown any moral improvement? 
 Not the least. They are no better off, but it grows 
 harder and harder every day for me. If I saw any 
 success in my undertakings, if I saw any signs of 
 gratitude, . . . but, no ! I see falsely directed rou- 
 tine, vice, untruthfulness, helplessness. I am wasting 
 the best years of my life." 
 
 Thus he said to himself, and he recollected that his 
 neighbors, as he heard from his nurse, called him " a 
 mere boy ; " that he had no money left in the count- 
 ing-room ; that his new threshing-machine, which he 
 had invented, much to the amusement of the peasants, 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 79 
 
 only made a noise, and did not thresh any thing when 
 it had been set ill motion for the first time in pres- 
 ence of numerous spectators, who had gathered at the 
 threshing-floor ; that from day to day he had to expect 
 the coming of the district judge for the list of goods 
 and chattels, which he had neglected to make outr- 
 having been engrossed in various new enterprises on 
 his estate. 
 
 And suddenly there arose before him, just as vividly 
 as, before, that walk through the forest and his ideal 
 of rural life had arisen, — just as vividly there appeared 
 his little university room at Moscow, where he used to 
 sit half the night before a solitary candle, with his chum 
 and his favorite boy friend. 
 
 They used to read for five hours on a stretch, and 
 study such stupid lessons in civil law ; and when they 
 were done with them, they would send for supper, 
 open a bottle of champagne, and talk about the future 
 which awaited them. 
 
 How entirely different the young student had thought 
 the future would be ! Then the future was full of 
 enjoyment, of varied occupation, brilliant with suc- 
 cess, and beyond a peradventure sure to bring them 
 both to what seemed to them the greatest blessing in 
 the world, — to fame. 
 
 14 He will go on, and go on rapidly, in that path," 
 thought Nekhliudof of his friend; "but I " . . . 
 
 But by this time he was already mounting the steps 
 to his house ; and near it were standing a score of 
 peasants and house-servants, waiting with various 
 requests to the prince. And this brought him back 
 from dreams to the reality. 
 
 Among the crowd was a ragged and blood-stained 
 peasant-woman, who was lamenting and complaining 
 
80 A RUSSfAX PROPRIETOR. 
 
 of her father-in-law, who had been beating her. There 
 were two brothers, who for two years past had been 
 going on shares in their domestic arrangements, and 
 now looked at each other with hatred and despair. 
 There was also an unshaven, gray-haired domestic serf, 
 with hands trembling from the effects of intoxication ; 
 and this man was brought to the prince by his son, a 
 gardener, who complained of his disorderly conduct. 
 There was a peasant, who had driven his wife out of 
 the house because she had not worked any all the 
 spring. There was also the wife, a sick woman, who 
 sobbed, but said nothing, as she sat on the grass by 
 the steps, — only showed her inflamed and swollen leg, 
 carelessly wrapped up in a filthy rag. 
 
 Nekhliudof listened to all the petitions and com- 
 plaints ; and after he had given advice to one, blamed 
 others, and replied to still others, he began to feel a 
 sort of whimsical sensation of weariness, shame, weak- 
 ness, and regret. And he went to his room. 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 81 
 
 XX. 
 
 In the small room occupied by Nekhliudof stood 
 an old leather sofa decorated with copper nails, a 
 few chairs of the same description, an old-fashioned 
 inlaid extension-table with scallops and brass mount- 
 ings, and strewn with papers, and an old-fashioned 
 English grand with narrow keys, broken and twisted. 
 
 Between the windows hung a large mirror with an 
 old carved frame gilded. On the floor, near the table, 
 lay packages of papers, books, and accounts. 
 
 This room, on the whole, had a characterless and 
 disorderly appearance ; and this lively disorder pre- 
 sented a sharp contrast with the affectedly aristocratic 
 arrangement of the other rooms of the great mansion. 
 
 When Nekhliudof reached his room, he flung his 
 hat angrily on the table, and sat down in a chair 
 which stood near the piano, crossed his legs, and 
 shook his head. 
 
 "Will you have lunch, your excellency? " asked a 
 tall, thin, wrinkled old woman, who entered just at 
 this instant, dressed in a cap, a great kerchief, and 
 a print dress. 
 
 Nekhliudof looked at her for a moment or two in 
 silence, as though collecting his thoughts. 
 
 " No: I don't wish any thing, nurse," said he, and 
 again fell into thought. 
 
 The nurse shook her head at him in some vexation, 
 and sighed. 
 
82 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 " Eh ! Father, Dmitri Nikolaye>itch, are you mel- 
 ancholy? Such tribulation comes, but it will pass 
 away. God knows "... 
 
 41 1 am not melancholy. What have you brought, 
 Malanya Finogeuovna?" replied Nekhliudof, endeav- 
 oring to smile. 
 
 " Ain't melancholy! can't I see?" the old woman 
 began to say with warmth. u The whole livelong 
 day to be all sole alone ! And you take every thing 
 to heart so, and look out for every thing ; and besides, 
 you scarcety eat any thing. What's the reason of it? 
 If you'd only go to the city, or visit your neighbors, 
 as others do ! You are young, and the idea of bother- 
 ing over things so ! Pardon me, little father, I will 
 sit down," pursued the old nurse, taking a seat near 
 the door. " You see, we have got into such a habit 
 that we lose fear. Is that the way gentlemen do? 
 There's no good in it. You are only ruining yourself, 
 and the people are spoiled. That's just like our 
 people : they don't understand it, that's a fact. You 
 had better go to your auntie. What she wrote was 
 good sense," said the old nurse, admonishing him. 
 
 Nekhliudof kept growing more and more dejected. 
 His right hand, resting on his knee, lazily struck the 
 piano, making a chord, a second, a third. 
 
 Nekhliudof moved nearer, drew his other hand from 
 his pocket, and began to play. The chords which he 
 made were sometimes not premeditated, were occasion- 
 ally not even according to rule, often remarkable for 
 absurdity, and showed that he was lacking in musical 
 talent ; but the exercise gave him a certain indefinable 
 melancholy enjoyment. 
 
 At every modification in the harmony, he waited 
 with muffled heart-beat for what would come out of it ; 
 
A RUSSfAN PROPRIETOR. 83 
 
 and when any thing came, he, in a dark sort of way, 
 completed with his imagination what was missing. 
 
 It seemed to him that he heard a hundred melodies, 
 and a chorus, and an orchestra simultaneously joining 
 in with his harmony. But his chief pleasure was in 
 the powerful activity of his imagination ; confused and 
 broken, but bringing up with striking clearness be- 
 fore him the most varied, mixed, and absurd images 
 and pictures from the past and the future. 
 
 Now it presents the puffy figure of Davidka Byelui, 
 timidly blinking his white eyelashes at the sight of 
 his mother's black fist with its network of veins ; his 
 bent back, and huge hands covered with white hairs, 
 exhibiting a uniform patience and submission to fate, 
 sufficient to overcome torture and deprivation. 
 
 Then he saw the brisk, presuming nurse, and, some- 
 how, seemed to picture her going through the villages, 
 and announcing to the peasants that they ought to hide 
 their money from the proprietors ; and he unconscious- 
 ly said to himself, " Yes, it is necessary to hide money 
 from the proprietors." 
 
 Then suddenly there came up before him the fair 
 head of his future wife, for some reason weeping and 
 leaning on his shoulder in deep grief. 
 
 Then he seemed to see Churis's kindly blue eyes 
 looking affectionately at his pot-bellied little son. 
 Yes, he saw in him a helper and savior, apart from 
 his son. "That is love," he whispered. 
 
 Then he remembered Yukhvanka's mother, remem- 
 bered the expression of patience and conciliation 
 which, notwithstanding her prominent teeth and her 
 irregular features, he recognized on her aged face. 
 
 "It must be that I have been the first during her 
 seventy years of life, to recognize her good qualities," 
 
84 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 he said to himself, and whispered " Strange ; " but he 
 continued still to drum on the piano, and to listen to 
 the sounds. 
 
 Then he vividly recalled his retreat from the bees, 
 and the expressions on the faces of Karp and Ignat, 
 who evidently wanted to laugh though they made 
 believe not look at him. He reddened, and involun- 
 tarily glanced at the old nurse, who still remained 
 sitting by the door, looking at him with silent atten- 
 tion, occasionally shaking her gray head. 
 
 Here, suddenly, he seemed to see a troika of sleek 
 horses, and Ilyushka's handsome, robust form, with 
 bright curls, gayly shining, narrow blue eyes, fresh 
 complexion, and delicate down just beginning to 
 appear on lip and chin. 
 
 He remembered how Ilyushka was afraid that he 
 would not be permitted to go teaming, and how eagerly 
 he argued in favor of the work that he liked so well. 
 And he saw the gray early morning, that began with 
 mist, and the smooth paved road, and the long lines 
 of three-horse wagons, heavily laden and protected by 
 mats, and marked with big black letters. The stout, 
 contented, well-fed horses, thundering along with their 
 bells, arching their backs, and tugging on the traces, 
 pulled in unison up the hill, forcefully straining on 
 their long-nailed shoes over the smooth road. 
 
 As the train of wagons reached the foot of the hill, 
 the postman had quickly clashed by with jingling bells, 
 which were echoed far and wide by the great forest 
 extending along on both sides of the road. 
 
 t4 ^l-a-ai7" in a loud, boyish voice, shouts the head 
 driver, who has a badge on his lambskin cap, and 
 swings his whip around his head. 
 
 Beside the front wheel of the front team, the red- 
 
A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 85 
 
 headed, cross-looking Karp is walking heavilv in huge 
 boots. In the second team Ilyushka shows his hand- 
 some head, as he sits on the driver's seat playing 
 the bugle. Three troi'ka-wagons loaded with boxes, 
 with creaking wheels, with the sound of bells and 
 shouts, file by. Ilyushka once more hides his hand- 
 some face under the matting, and falls off to sleep. 
 
 Now it is a fresh, clear evening. The deal gates 
 open for the weary horses as they halt in front of the 
 tavern yard ; and one after the other, the high mat- 
 covered teams roll in across the planks that lie at the 
 gates, and come to rest under the wide sheds. 
 
 Ilyushka gayly exchanges greetings with the light- 
 complexioned, wide -bosomed landlady, who asks, 
 " Have you come far? and will there be many of you 
 to supper?" and at the same time looks with pleasure 
 on the handsome lad, with her bright, kindly eyes. 
 
 And now, having unharnessed the horses, he goes 
 into the warm house 1 crowded with people, crosses 
 himself, sits down at the generous wooden bowl, and 
 enters into lively conversation with the landlady and 
 his companions. 
 
 And then he goes to bed in the open air, under the 
 stars which gleam down into the shed. His bed is 
 fragrant hay, and he is near the horses, which, stamp- 
 ing and snorting, eat their fodder in the wooden cribs. 
 He goes to the shed, turns toward the east, and after 
 crossing himself thirty times in succession on his 
 broad brawny chest, and throwing back his bright 
 curls, he repeats "Our Father" and "Lord have 
 mercy" a score of times, and wrapping himself, head 
 and all, in his cloak, sleeps the healthy, dreamless sleep 
 of strong, fresh manhood. 
 
 1 izba. 
 
86 A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. 
 
 And here he sees in his vision the city of Kief, with 
 its saints and throngs of priests ; Romen, with its mer- 
 chants and merchandise ; he sees Odest, and the dis- 
 tant blue sea studded with white sails, and the city of 
 Tsar-grad, 1 with its golden palaces, and the white- 
 breasted, dark-browed Turkish maidens ; and thither 
 he flies, lifting himself on invisible wings. 
 
 He flies freely and easily, always farther and farther 
 away, and sees below him golden cities bathed in clear 
 effulgence, and the blue sky with bright stars, and a 
 blue sea with white sails ; and smoothly and pleas- 
 antly he flies, always farther and farther away . . . 
 
 44 Splendid !" whispers Nekhliudof to himself; and 
 the thought, " Why am I not Jlyushka?" comes to 
 him. 
 
 1 Constantinople. 
 
LUCERNE. 
 
 FROM THE RECOLLECTIONS OF PRINCE NEKHLIUDOF. 
 
 July 20, 1857. 
 
 Yesterday evening I arrived at Lucerne, and put up 
 at the best inn there, the Schweitzerhof. 
 
 44 Lucerne, the chief city of the canton, situated on 
 the shore of the Vierwaldstatter See," says Murray, 
 " is one of the most romantic places of Switzerland: 
 here cross three important highways, and it is only an 
 hour's distance by steamboat to Mount Righi, from 
 which is obtained one of the most magnificent views 
 in the world." 
 
 Whether that be true or no, other Guides say the 
 same thing, and consequently at Lucerne there are 
 throngs of travellers of all nationalities, especially the 
 English. 
 
 The magnificent five-storied building of the Hotel 
 Schweitzerhof is situated on the quay, at the very 
 edge of the lake, where in olden times there used to be 
 the crooked covered wooden bridge 1 with chapels on the 
 corners and pictures on the roof. Now, thanks to the 
 tremendous inroad of Englishmen, with their necessi- 
 ties, their tastes, and their money, the old bridge has 
 been torn down, and in its place has been erected a 
 
 1 Hofbriicke, torn down in 1852. 
 
 87 
 
88 LUCERNE. 
 
 granite quay, straight as a stick. Ou the quay are built 
 the long, quadrangular five-storied houses ; in front of 
 the houses two rows of lindens have been set out and 
 provided with supports, and between the lindens are 
 the usual supply of green benches. 
 
 This is the promenade ; and here back and forth 
 stroll the Englishwomen in their Swiss straw hats, and 
 the Englishmen in simple and comfortable attire, and 
 rejoice in that which they have caused to be created. 
 Possibly these quays and houses and lindens and 
 Englishmen would be excellent in their way anywhere 
 else, but here they seem discordant amid this strangely 
 grandiose and at the same time indescribably harmoni- 
 ous and smiling nature. 
 
 As soon as I went up to my room, and opened the 
 window facing the lake, the beauty of the sheet of 
 water, of these mountains, and of this sky, at the first 
 moment literally dazzled and overwhelmed me. I 
 experienced an inward unrest, and the necessity of 
 expressing in some manuer the feelings that suddenly 
 filled my soul to overflowing. I felt a desire to em- 
 brace, powerfully to embrace, some one, to tickle him, 
 or to pinch him ; in short, to do to him and to myself 
 something extraordinary. 
 
 It was seven o'clock in the evening. The rain had 
 been falling all day, but now it had cleared off. 
 
 The lake, blue as heated sulphur, spread out before 
 my windows smooth and motionless, like a concave 
 mirror between the variegated green shores ; its sur- 
 face was dotted with boats, which left behind them 
 vanishing trails. Farther away it was contracted 
 between two monstrous headlands, and, darkling, set 
 itself against and disappeared behind a confused pile 
 of mountains, clouds, and glaciers. In the fore- 
 
L UCERNE. 89 
 
 ground stretched a panorama of moist, fresh green 
 shores, with reeds, meadows, gardens, and villas. 
 Farther away, the dark-green wooded heights, crowned 
 with the ruins of feudal castles ; in the background, 
 the rolling, pale-lilac-colored vista of mountains, with 
 fantastic peaks built up of crags and dead white 
 mounds of snow. And every thing was bathed in a 
 fresh, transparent atmosphere of azure blue, and kin- 
 dled by the warm rays of the setting sun, bursting 
 forth through the riven skies. 
 
 Not on the lake nor on the mountains nor in the 
 skies was there a single completed line, a single 
 unmixed color, a single moment of repose ; every- 
 where motion, irregularity, fantasy, endless conglom- 
 eration and variety of shades and lines ; and above 
 all, a calm, a softness, a unity, and a striving for the 
 beautiful. 
 
 And here amid this indefinable, confused, unfettered 
 beauty, before my very window, stretched in stupid 
 kaleidoscopic confusion the white line of the qua}-, the 
 lindens with their supports, and the green seats, — 
 miserable, tasteless creations of human ingenuity, not 
 subordinated, like the distant villas and ruins, to the 
 general harmony of the beautiful scene, but on the 
 contrary brutally contradicting it. . . . Constantly, 
 though against my will, my eyes were attracted to that 
 horribly straight line of the qua}' ; and mentally I 
 should have liked to spurn it, to demolish it like a 
 black spot disfiguring the nose beneath one's eye. 
 
 But the quay with the sauntering Englishmen re- 
 mained where it was, and I involuntarily tried to find 
 a point of view where it would be out of my sight. 
 I succeeded in finding such a view ; and till dinner was 
 ready 1 took delight, alone by myself, in this incom- 
 
90 LUCERNE. 
 
 pletc and therefore the more enjoyable feeling of 
 oppression that one experiences In the solitary contem- 
 plation of natural beauty. 
 
 About half-past seven I was called to dinner. Two 
 long tables, accommodating at least a hundred persons, 
 were spread in the great, magnificently decorated din- 
 ing-room on the first floor. . . . The silent gathering 
 of the guests lasted three minutes, — the frou-frou 
 of women's dresses, the soft steps, the softly-spoken 
 words addressed to the courtly and elegant waiters. 
 And all the places were occupied by ladies and gentle- 
 men dressed elegantly, even richly, and for the most 
 part in perfect taste. 
 
 As is apt to be the case in Switzerland, the majority 
 of the guests were English, and this gave the ruling 
 characteristics of the common table : that is, a strict 
 decorum regarded as an obligation, a reserve founded 
 not in pride but in the absence of any necessity for 
 social relationship, and finally a uniform sense of sat- 
 isfaction felt by each in the comfortable and agreeable 
 gratification of his wants. 
 
 On all sides gleamed the whitest laces, the whitest 
 collars, the whitest teeth, — natural and artificial, — 
 the whitest complexions and hands. But the faces, 
 many of which were very handsome, bore the expres- 
 sion merely of individual prosperit} 7 , and absolute ab- 
 sence of interest in all that surrounded them unless it 
 bore directly. on their own individual selves; and the 
 white hands glittering with rings, or protected by mitts, 
 moved only for the purpose of straightening collars, 
 cutting meat, or filling wine-glasses ; no soul-felt 
 emotion was betrayed in these actions. 
 
 Occasionally members of some one family would 
 exchange remarks in subdued voices, about the excel- 
 
LUCERNE. 91 
 
 lence of such and such a dish or wine, or about the 
 beauty of the view from Mount Righi. 
 
 Individual tourists, whether men or women, sat 
 alongside of each other in silence, and did not even 
 seem to see each other. If it happened occasionally, 
 that, out of this five-score human beings, two spoke to 
 each other, the topic of their conversation consisted 
 uniformly in the weather, or the ascent of the Righi. 
 
 Knives and forks scarcely rattled on the plates, so 
 perfect was the observance of propriety ; and no one 
 dared to convey pease and vegetables to the mouth 
 otherwise than on the fork. The waiters, involuntarily 
 subdued by the universal silence, asked in a whisper 
 what wine you would be pleased to order. 
 
 Such dinners invariably depress me : I dislike them, 
 and before they are over I become blue. ... It 
 always seems to me as if I were in some way to blame ; 
 just as when I was a boy I was set upon a chair in 
 consequence of some naughtiness, and bidden ironi- 
 cally, u Now rest a little while, my dear young fellow." 
 And all the time my young blood was pulsing through 
 my veins, and in the other room I could hear the merry 
 shouts of my brothers. 
 
 I used to try to rebel against this feeling of being 
 choked down, which I experienced at such dinners, but 
 in vain. All these dead-and-alive faces have an irre- 
 sistible ascendency over me, and I myself become also 
 as one dead. I have no desires, I have no thoughts : 
 I do not even observe. 
 
 At first I attempted to enter into conversation with 
 my neighbors ; but I got no response beyond the phrases 
 which had been repeated in that place a hundred times, 
 a thousand times, with absolutely no variation of coun- 
 tenance. 
 
92 LUCERNE. 
 
 And yet these people were by no means .all stupid 
 and feelingless; but evidently many of them, though 
 they seemed bo dead, bad got into the habit of leading 
 self-centred lives, which in reality were far more com- 
 plioated and interesting than my own. Why, then, 
 should they deprive themselves of one of the greatest 
 enjoyments of life, — the enjoyment that comes from 
 the intercourse of man with inau ? 
 
 How different it used to be in our pension at Paris, 
 where tweut}' of us, belonging to as many different 
 nationalities, professions, and individualities, met to- 
 gether at a common table, and, under the influence of 
 the Gallic sociability, found the keenest zest ! 
 
 There, from the very moment that we sat down, from 
 one end of the table to the other, was general' conver- 
 sation, sandwiched with witticisms and puns, though 
 often in a broken speech. There every one, without 
 being solicitous for the proprieties, said whatever came 
 into his head. There we had our own philosopher, 
 our own disputant, our own bel esprit, our own butt, — 
 all common propert} 7 . 
 
 There, immediately after dinner, we would move the 
 table to one side, and, without paying too much atten- 
 tion to rhythm, take to dancing the polka on the dusty 
 carpet, and often keep it up till evening. There, 
 though we were rather flirtatious, and not over-wise, 
 but perfectly respectable, still we were human beings. 
 
 And the Spanish countess with romantic proclivities, 
 and the Italian abbate who insisted on declaiming from 
 the Divine Comedy after dinner, and the American 
 doctor who had the entree into the Tuileries, and the 
 young dramatic author with long hair, and the pianist 
 who, according to her own account, had composed the 
 best polka in existence, and the unhappy widow who 
 
LUCERNE. 93 
 
 was a beauty, and wore three rings on every finger, — 
 all of us enjoyed this society, which, though some- 
 what superficial, was human and pleasant. And we 
 each carried away from it hearty recollections of each 
 other, perhaps lighter in some cases, and more serious 
 in others. 
 
 But at these English table-dlidte dinners, as I look 
 at all these laces, ribbons, jewels, pomaded locks, and 
 silken dresses, I often think how many living women 
 would be happy, and would make others happy, with 
 these adornments. 
 
 Strange to think how many friends and lovers — 
 most fortunate friends and lovers — are sitting here 
 side by side, without, perhaps, knowing it ! And God 
 knows why they never come to this knowledge, and 
 never give each other this happiness, which the} 7 might 
 so easily give, and which they so long for. 
 
 I began to feel blue, as invariably happens after 
 such a dinner; and, without waiting for dessert, I 
 sallied out in the same frame of mind for a constitu- 
 tional through the city. My melancholy frame of 
 mind was not relieved, but rather confirmed by the 
 narrow, muddy streets without lanterns, the shuttered 
 shops, the encounters with drunken workmen, and 
 with women hastening after water, or in bonnets, 
 glancing around them as they turned the corners. 
 
 It was perfectly dark in the streets, when I returned 
 to the hotel without casting a glance about me, or 
 having an idea in my head. I hoped that sleep would 
 put an end to my melancholy. I experienced that 
 peculiar spiritual chill and loneliness and heaviness, 
 which, without any reason, beset those who are just 
 arrived in any new place. 
 
 Looking steadfastly down, I walked along the quay 
 
94 /. re ERNE. 
 
 to the Schweitzerhof, when suddenly my ear was struck 
 by the strums of a peculiar but thoroughly agreeable 
 and sweet music. 
 
 These strains had an immediately enlivening effect 
 upon me. It was as though a bright, cheerful light 
 had poured into my soul. I felt contented, gay. My 
 slumbering attention was awakened agaiu to all sur- 
 rounding objects ; and the beauty of the night and 
 the lake, to which till then I had been indifferent, 
 suddenly came over me with quickening force like a 
 novelty. 
 
 I involuntarily took in at a glance the dark sky 
 with gray clouds flecking its deep blue, now lighted by 
 the rising moon, the glassy dark-green lake with its 
 surface reflecting the lighted windows, and far away 
 the snowy mountains ; and I heard the croaking of the 
 frogs over on the Freshenburg shore, and the dewy 
 fresh call of the quail. 
 
 Directly in front of me, in the spot whence the sounds 
 of music had first come, and which still especially 
 attracted my attention, I saw, amid the semi-darkness 
 . on the street, a throng of people standing in a semi- 
 circle, and in front of the crowd, at a little distance, 
 a small man in dark clothes. 
 
 Behind the throng and the man, there stood out har- 
 moniously against the dark, ragged sky, gray and blue, 
 the black tops of a few Lombardy poplars in some 
 garden, and, rising majestically on high, the two stern 
 spires that stand on the towers of the ancient cathedral. 
 
 I drew nearer, and the strains became more distinct. 
 At some distance I could clearly distinguish the full 
 accords of a guitar, sweetty swelling in the evening 
 air, and several voices, which, while taking turns with 
 each other, did not sing any definite theme, but gave 
 
LUCERNE. 95 
 
 suggestions of one in places wherever the melody was 
 most pronounced. 
 
 The theme was in somewhat the nature of a mazurka, 
 sweet and graceful. The voices sounded now near at 
 hand, now far distant ; now a bass was heard, now 
 a tenor, now a falsetto such as the Tyrolese warblers 
 are wont to sing. 
 
 It was not a song, but the graceful masterly sketck 
 of a song. I could not comprehend what it was, but 
 it was beautiful. 
 
 Those voluptuous, soft chords of the guitar, that 
 sweet, gentle melody, and that solitary figure of the 
 man in black, amid- the fantastic environment of 
 the lake, the gleaming moon, and the twin spires of the 
 cathedral rising in majestic silence, and the black 
 tops of the poplars, — ail was strange and perfectly 
 beautiful, or at least seemed so to me. 
 
 All the confused, arbitrary impressions of life sud- 
 denly became full of meaning and beauty. It seemed 
 to me as though a fresh fragrant flower had sprung up 
 in my soul. In place of the weariness, dulness, and 
 indifference toward every thing in the world, which 
 I had been feeling the moment before, I experienced a 
 necessity for love, a fulness of hope, and an unbounded 
 enjoyment of life. 
 
 " What dost thou desire, what dost thou long for? " 
 an inner voice seemed to say. " Here it is. Thou 
 art surrounded on all sides by beauty and poetry. 
 Breathe it in, in full, deep draughts, as long as thou 
 hast strength. Enjoy it to the full extent of thy 
 capacity. 'Tis all thine, all blessed ! " 
 
 I drew nearer. The little man was, as it seemed, a 
 travelling Tyrolese. He stood before the windows of 
 the hotel, one leg a little advanced, his head thrown 
 
96 LUCERNE. 
 
 back ; and, as he thrummed on the guitar, he sang his 
 graceful song in all those different voices. 
 
 I immediately felt an affection for this man, and a 
 gratefulness for the change which be bad brought about 
 in me. 
 
 The singer, so far as I was able to judge, was dressed 
 in an old black coat. lie had short black hair, and he 
 wore a civilian's hat that was no longer new. There 
 was nothing artistic in his attire, but his clever and 
 youthfully gay motions and pose, together with his 
 diminutive stature, formed a pleasing and at the same 
 time pathetic spectacle. 
 
 On the steps, in the windows, and on the balconies 
 of the brilliantly lighted hotel, stood ladies handsomely 
 decorated and attired, gentlemen with polished collars, 
 porters and lackeys in gold-embroidered liveries ; in 
 the street, in the semicircle of the crowd, and farther 
 along on the sidewalk, among the lindens, were gath- 
 ered groups of well-dressed waiters, cooks in white caps 
 and aprons, and young girls wandering about with arms 
 about each other's waists. 
 
 All, it seemed, were under the influence of the same 
 feeling that I myself experienced. All stood in silence 
 around the singer, and listened attentively. Silence 
 reigned, except in the pauses of the song, when there 
 came from far away across the waters the regular click 
 of a hammer, and from the Freshenburg shore rang in 
 fascinating monotone the voices of the frogs, interrupted 
 b} r the mellow, monotonous call of the quail. 
 
 The little man in the darkness, in the midst of the 
 street, poured out his heart like a nightingale, in coup- 
 let after couplet, song after song. Though I had come 
 close to him, his singing continued to give me greater 
 and greater gratification. 
 
LUCERNE. 97 
 
 His voice, which was not of great power, was ex- 
 tremely pleasant and tender ; the taste and feeling for 
 rhythm which he displayed in the control of it were 
 extraordinary, and proved that he had great natural 
 gifts. 
 
 After he sung each couplet, he invariably repeated 
 the theme in variation, and it was evident that all his 
 graceful variations came to him at the instant, spon- 
 taneously. 
 
 Among the crowd, and above on the Schweitzerhof, 
 and near by on the boulevard, were heard frequent 
 murmurs of approval, though generally the most re- 
 spectful silence reigned. 
 
 The balconies and the windows kept filling more and 
 more with handsomely dressed men and women leaning 
 on their elbows, and picturesquely illuminated by the 
 lights in the house. 
 
 Promenaders came to a halt, and in the darkness on 
 the quay stood men and women in little groups. Near 
 me, at some distance from the common crowd, stood 
 an aristocratic cook and lackey, smoking their cigars. 
 The cook was forcibly impressed by the music, and at 
 every high falsetto note enthusiastically nodded his 
 head to the lackey, and nudged him with his elbow 
 with an expression of astonishment that seemed to say, 
 " How he sings ! hey?" 
 
 The lackey, whose careless smile betrayed the depth 
 of feeling that he experienced, replied to the cook's 
 nudges by shrugging his shoulders, as if to show that 
 it was hard enough for him to be made enthusiastic, 
 and that he had heard much better music. 
 
 In one of the pauses of his song, while the minstrel 
 was clearing his throat, I asked the lackey who he was, 
 and if he often came there. 
 
98 LUCERNE. 
 
 44 Twice this summer he 1ms been here," replied the 
 lackey. u He is from Aargau ; he goes round beg- 
 ging-" 
 
 14 Well, do many like him come round here?" I 
 asked. 
 
 44 Oh, yes," replied the lackey, not comprehending 
 the full force of what I asked ; but, immediately after, 
 recollecting himself, he added, kl Oh, no. This one is 
 the only one I ever heard here. No one else." 
 
 At this moment the little man had finished his first 
 song, briskly twanged his guitar, and said something 
 in his German patois, which I could not understand, 
 but which brought forth a hearty round of laughter 
 from the surrounding throng. 
 
 44 What was that he said? " I asked. 
 
 44 He says that his throat is dried up, he would like 
 some wine," replied the lackey who was standing near 
 me. 
 
 44 What? is he rather fond of the glass? " 
 
 44 Yes, all that sort of people are," replied the 
 lackey, smiling and pointing at the minstrel. 
 
 The minstrel took off his cap, and swinging his guitar 
 went toward the hotel. Raising his head, he addressed 
 the ladies and gentlemen standing by the windows and 
 on the balconies, saying in a half-Italian, half-German 
 accent, and with the same intonation that jugglers use 
 in speaking to their audiences, — 
 
 41 Messieurs et mesdames, si vous croyez que je gagne 
 quelque chose, vous vous trompez: je ne suis qu'un 
 pauvre tiaple." 
 
 He stood in silence a moment, but as no one gave him 
 any thing, he once more took up his guitar and said, — 
 
 44 A present, messieurs et mesdames , je vous chanterai 
 Vair du Rigid." 
 
LUCERNE. 99 
 
 His hotel audience made no response, but stood in 
 expectation of the coming song. Below on the street 
 a laugh went round, probably in part because he had 
 expressed himself so strangely, and in part because no 
 one had given him any thing. 
 
 I gave him a few centimes, which he deftly changed 
 from one hand to the other, and bestowed them in his 
 vest-pocket ; and then, replacing his cap, began once 
 more to sing the graceful, sweet Tyrolese melody which 
 he had called Fair da Rigid. 
 
 This song, which formed the last on his programme, 
 was even better than the preceding, and from all sides 
 in the wondering throng were heard sounds of appro- 
 bation. 
 
 He finished. Again he swung his guitar, took off 
 his cap, held it out in front of him, went two or three 
 steps nearer to the windows, and again repeated his 
 stock phrase, — 
 
 " Messieurs et mesdames, si vous croyez que je gagne 
 quelque chose" which he evidently considered to be 
 very shrewd and witty ; but in his voice and motions 
 I perceived a certain irresolution and childish timidity 
 which were especially touching in a person of such 
 diminutive stature. 
 
 The elegant public, still picturesquely grouped in the 
 lighted windows and on the balconies, were shining in 
 their rich attire ; a few conversed in soberly discreet 
 tones, apparently about their singer who was standing 
 there below them with outstretched hand ; others gazed 
 down with attentive curiosity on the little black figure ; 
 on one balcony could be heard the merry, ringing 
 laughter of some young girl. 
 
 In the surrounding crowd the talk and laughter grew 
 constantly louder and louder. 
 
100 LUCERNE. 
 
 The singer for the third time repeated his phrase, 
 but in a still weaker voice, and did not even end the 
 sentcnee ; and again he stretched his hand with his cap, 
 but instantly drew it back. Again not one of those 
 brilliantly dressed scores of people standing to listen 
 to hiin threw him a penny. 
 
 The crowd laughed heartlessly. 
 
 The little singer, so it seemed to me, shrunk more 
 into himself, took his guitar into his other hand, lifted 
 his cap, and said, — 
 
 11 Messieurs et mesclames, je vous remercie, et je vous 
 souhais une bonne nuit." Then he put on his hat. 
 
 The crowd cackled with laughter and satisfaction 
 The handsome ladies and gentlemen, calmly exchun 
 giug remarks, withdrew gradually from the balconies 
 On the boulevard the promenading began once more 
 The street, which had been still during the singing 
 assumed its wonted liveliness ; a few men, however 
 stood at some distance, and, without approaching the 
 singer, looked at him and laughed. 
 
 I heard the little man muttering something between 
 his teeth as he turned' awa} T ; and I saw him, apparently 
 growing more and more diminutive, hurry toward the 
 city with brisk steps. The promenaders who had been 
 looking at him followed him at some distance, still 
 making merry at his expense. My mind was in a 
 whirl ; I could not comprehend what it all meant ; and 
 still standing in the same place, I gazed abstractedly 
 into the darkness after the little man, who was fast 
 disappearing, as he went with ever-increasing swiftness 
 with long strides into the city, followed by the merry- 
 making promenaders. 
 
 I was overmastered by a feeling of pain, of bitter- 
 ness, and above all, of shame for the little man, for the 
 
LUCERNE. 101 
 
 crowd, for myself, as though it were I who had asked 
 for money and received none ; as though it were I who 
 had been turned to ridicule. 
 
 Without looking any longer, feeling my heart op- 
 pressed, I also hurried with long strides toward the 
 entrance of the Schweitzerhof. I could not explain 
 the feeling that overmastered me ; only there was some- 
 thing like a stone, from which I could not free myself, 
 weighing down my soul and oppressing me. 
 
 At the ample, well-lighted entrance, I met the porter, 
 who politely made way for me. An English family 
 was also at the door. A portiy, handsome, and tall 
 gentleman, with black side-whiskers, in a black hat, 
 and with a plaid on one arm, while in his hand he 
 carried a costly cane, came out slowly and full of im- 
 portance. Leaning on his arm was a lady, who wore 
 a raw silk dress and bonnet with bright ribbons and 
 the most costly laces. Together with them was a 
 pretty, fresh-looking young lady, in a graceful Swiss 
 hat with a feather a la mousquetaire; from under it 
 escaped long light-yellow curls softly encircling her 
 fair face. In front of them skipped a buxom girl of 
 ten, with round white knees which showed from under 
 her thin embroideries. *.* Magnificent night ! " the lady 
 was saying in a sweet, happy voice, as I passed them. 
 
 tk Oh, yes," growled the Englishman lazily; and it 
 was evident that he found it so enjoyable to be alive in 
 the world, that it was too much trouble even to speak. 
 
 And it seemed as though all of them alike found it 
 so comfortable and easy, so light and free, to be alive in 
 the world, their faces and motions expressed such per- 
 fect indifference to the lives of every one else, and such 
 absolute confidence that it was to them that the porter 
 made way and bowed so profoundly, and that when 
 
102 LUCERNE. 
 
 they returned they would find clean, comfortable beds 
 and rooms, and that all this was bound to be, and was 
 their indefeasible right, that I involuntarily contrasted 
 them with the wandering minstrel who weary, perhaps 
 hungry, full of shame, was retreating before the laugh- 
 ing crowd. And then suddenly I comprehended what 
 it was that oppressed my heart with such a load of 
 heaviness, and I felt an iudescribablc anger against 
 these people. 
 
 Twice I walked up and down past the Englishman, 
 and each time, without turning out for him, my elbow 
 punched him, which gave me a feeling of indescribable 
 satisfaction ; and then, darting down the steps, I 
 hastened through the darkness in the direction toward 
 the city taken by the little man. 
 
 Overtaking the three men who had been walking 
 together, I asked them where the singer was; they 
 laughed, and pointed straight ahead. There he was, 
 walking alone with brisk steps ; no one was with him ; 
 all the time, as it seemed to me, he was indulging in 
 bitter monologue. 
 
 I caught up with him, and proposed to him to go 
 somewhere with me and drink a bottle of wine. He 
 kept on with his rapid walk, and scarcely deigned to 
 look at me ; but when he perceived what I was saying, 
 he halted. 
 
 "Well, I would not refuse, if you would be so kind," 
 said he; "here is a little cafe\ we can go in there. 
 It's not fashionable," he added, pointing to a drinking- 
 saloon that was still open. 
 
 His expression "not fashionable" involuntarily sug- 
 gested the idea of not going to an unfashionable caf6, 
 but to go to the Schweitzerhof , where those who had 
 been listening to him were. Notwithstanding the fact 
 
LUCERNE. 103 
 
 that several times he showed a sort of timid disquietude 
 at the idea of going to the Schweitzerhof, declaring 
 that it was too fine for him there, still I insisted in 
 carrying out my purpose ; and he, putting the best 
 face on the matter, gayly swinging his guitar, went 
 back with me across the quay. 
 
 A few loiterers who had happened along as I was 
 talking with the minstrel, and had stopped to hear what 
 I had to say, now, after arguing among themselves, 
 followed us to the very entrance of the hotel, evidently 
 expecting from the Tyrolese some further demonstra- 
 tion. 
 
 I ordered a bottle of wine of a waiter whom I met 
 in the hall. The waiter smiled and looked at us, and 
 went by without answering. The head waiter, to whom 
 1 addressed myself with the same order, listened to 
 me solemnly, and, measuring the minstrel's modest little 
 figure from head to foot, sternly ordered the waiter to 
 take us to the room at the left. 
 
 The room at the left was a bar-room for simple 
 people. In the corner of this room a hunchbacked 
 maid was washing dishes. The whole furniture con- 
 sisted of bare wooden tables and benches. 
 
 The waiter who came to serve us looked at ns with 
 a supercilious smile, thrust his hands in his pockets, 
 and exchanged some remarks with the humpbacked 
 dish-washer. He evidently tried to give us to under- 
 stand that he felt himself immeasurably higher than 
 the minstrel, both in dignity and social position, so that 
 he considered it not only an indignity, but even an 
 actual joke, that he was called upon to serve us. 
 
 "Do you wish vin ordinaire?" he asked with a 
 knowing look, winking toward my companion, and 
 switching his napkin from one hand to the other 
 
104 LUCERNE. 
 
 44 Champagne, and your very best," said I, endeav- 
 oring to assume my haughtiest and most imposing 
 appearanoe. 
 
 Hut neither my champagne, nor my endeavor to look 
 haughty and imposing, had the least effect on the ser- 
 vant : lie smiled incredulously, loitered a moment or 
 two gazing at us, took time enough to glance at his 
 gold watch, and with leisurely steps, as though going 
 out for a walk, left the room. 
 
 Soon he returned with the wine, bringing two other 
 waiters with him. These two sat down near the dish- 
 washer, and gazed at us with amused attention and a 
 bland smile, just as parents gaze at their children when 
 they are gently playing. Only the dish-washer, it 
 seemed to me, did not look at us scornfully but sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 Though it was trying and awkward to lunch with the 
 minstrel, and to play the entertainer, under the fire of 
 all these waiters' eyes, I tried to do my duty with as 
 little constraint as possible. In the lighted room I 
 could sec him better. He was a small but symmetri- 
 cally built and muscular man, though almost a dwarf 
 in stature ; he had bristly black hair, teary big black 
 eyes, bushy eyebrows, and a thoroughly pleasant, at- 
 tractively shaped mouth. He had little side-whiskers, 
 his hair was short, his attire was very simple and mean. 
 He was not over-clean, was ragged and sunburnt, and 
 in general had the look of a laboring-man. He was far 
 more like a poor tradesman than an artist. 
 
 Only in his ever humid and brilliant eyes, and in his 
 firm mouth, was there any sign of originality or genius. 
 By his face it might be conjectured that his age was 
 between twenty-five and forty ; in reality, he was 
 
 tjUfc ty -6 QV fclL^_ 
 
LUCERNE. 105 
 
 Here is what he related to me, with good-natured 
 readiness and evident sincerity, of his life. He was a 
 native of Aargau. In early childhood he had lost 
 father and mother ; other relatives he had none. He 
 had never owned airy property. He had been appren- 
 ticed to a carpenter ; but twenty-two years previously 
 one of his hands had been attacked by caries, which 
 had prevented him from ever working again. 
 
 From childhood he had been fond of singing, and 
 he began to be a singer. Occasionally strangers had 
 given him money. With this he had learned his pro- 
 fession, bought his guitar, and now for eighteen years 
 he had been wandering about through Switzerland and 
 Italy, singing before hotels. His whole luggage con- 
 sisted of his guitar, and a little purse in which, at the 
 present time, there was only half a franc. That would 
 have to suffice for supper and lodgings this night. 
 
 Every year now for eighteen years he had made the 
 round of the best and most popular resorts of Switzer- 
 land, — Zurich, Lucerne, Interlaken, Chamounix, etc. ; 
 by the way of the St. Bernard he would go down into 
 Italy, and return over the St. Gothard, or through 
 Savoy. Just at present it was rather hard for him to 
 walk, as he had caught a cold, causing him to suffer 
 from some trouble in his legs, — he called it rheuma- 
 tism, — which grew more severe from year to year; 
 and, moreover, his voice and eyes had grown weaker. 
 Nevertheless, he was on his way to Interlaken, Aix- 
 les-Bains, and thence over the Little St. Bernard to 
 Italy, which he was very fond of. It was evident that 
 on the whole he was well content with his life. 
 
 When I asked him why he returned home, if he had* 
 any relatives there, or a house and land, his mouth 
 parted in a guy smile, and he replied, ■* Oui, le sucre 
 
106 LUCERNE. 
 
 est 6on, il est doux pour les enfants! " and he winked 
 at the servants. 
 
 I did not catch his meaning, but the group of ser- 
 vants burst out laughing. 
 
 " No, I have nothing of the sort, but still I should 
 always want to go back," he explained to me. " I 
 go home because there is always a something that 
 draws one to one's native place." And once more he 
 repeated with a shrewd, self-satisfied smile, his phrase, 
 44 Oui, le sucre est 6o»," and then laughed good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 The servants were very much amused, and laughed 
 heartily ; only the hunchbacked dish-washer looked 
 earnestly from her big kindly eyes at the little man, 
 and picked up his cap for him, when, as we talked, he 
 once knocked it off the bench. I have noticed that 
 wandering minstrels, acrobats, even jugglers, delight 
 in calling themselves artists, and several times I hinted 
 to my comrade that he was an artist ; but he did not 
 at all accept this designation, but with perfect sim- 
 plicity looked upon his work as a means of existence. 
 
 When I asked him if he had not himself written the 
 songs which he sang, he showed great surprise at such 
 a strange question, and replied that the words of what- 
 ever he sang were all of old Tyrolese origin. 
 
 " But how about that song of the Righi? I think 
 that cannot be very ancient," I suggested. 
 
 u Oh, that was composed about fifteen years ago. 
 There was a German in Basle ; he was a clever man ; 
 it was he who composed it. A splendid song. You 
 see he composed it especially for travellers. v And he 
 began to repeat the words of the Righi song, which he 
 liked so well, translating them into French as he went 
 along. 
 
LUCERNE. 107 
 
 " If you wish to go to Righi, 
 You will not need shoes to Wegis, 
 (For you go that far by steamboat). 
 But from Wegis take a stout staff, 
 Also take upon your arm a maiden; 
 Brink a glass of wine on starting, 
 Only do not drink too freely, 
 For if you desire to drink here, 
 You must earn the right to, first." 
 
 "Oh! a splendid song! " he exclaimed, as he fin- 
 ished. 
 
 The servants, evidently, also found the song much to 
 their mind, because they came up closer to us. 
 
 "Yes, but who was it composed the music?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Oh, no one at all; you know you must have 
 something new when you are going to sing for 
 strangers." 
 
 When the ice was brought, and I had given my com- 
 rade a glass of champagne, he seemed somewhat ill at 
 ease, and, glancing at the servants, he turned and 
 twisted on the bench. 
 
 We touched our glasses to the health of all artists ; 
 he drank half a glass, then he seemed to be collecting 
 his ideas, and knit his brows in deep thought. 
 
 " It is long since I have tasted such wine, je ne vous 
 dis que $a. In Italy the vino d'Asti is excellent, but 
 this is still better. Ah ! Italy ; it is splendid to be 
 there ! " he added. 
 
 " Yes, there they know how to appreciate music and 
 artists," said I, trying to bring him round to the even- 
 ing's mischance before the Schweitzerhof. 
 
 " No," he replied. " There, as far as music is con- 
 cerned, I cannot give anybody satisfaction. The 
 Italians are themselves musicians, — none like them in 
 
108 LUCERNE. 
 
 the world ; but I know only Tyrolese songs. They 
 are something of a novelty to them, though." 
 
 u Well, you fiud rather more generous gentlemen 
 there, don't you? " I went on to say, anxious to make 
 him share in my resentment against the guests of the 
 Schweitzerhof. " There it would not be possible to 
 find a big hotel frequented by rich people, where, out 
 of a hundred listening to an artist's singing, not one 
 would give him any thing." 
 
 My question utterly failed of the effect that I ex- 
 pected. It did not enter his head to be indignant with 
 them : on the contrary, he saw in my remark an implied 
 slur upon his talent which had failed of its reward, and 
 he hastened to set himself right before me. " It is 
 not every time that you get any thing," he remarked ; 
 44 sometimes one isn't in good voice, or you are tired ; 
 now to-da}' I have been walking ten hours, and singing 
 almost all the time. That is hard. And these impor- 
 tant aristocrats do not always care to listen to Tyrolese 
 songs." 
 
 " But still, how can they help giving?" I insisted. 
 
 He did not comprehend my remark. 
 
 M That's nothing," he said ; 4t but here the principal 
 thing is, on est tres serve" pour la police, that's what's 
 the trouble. Here, according to these republican laws, 
 you are not allowed to sing ; but in Italy you can go 
 wherever you please, no one says a word. Here, if 
 they want to let you, they let you ; but if the}' don't 
 want to, then they can throw you into jail." 
 
 4 ' What ? That's incredible ! ' ' 
 
 41 Yes, it is true. If you have been warned once, and 
 are found singing again, they may put you in jail. I 
 was kept there three months once," he said, smiling as 
 though that were one of his pleasantest recollections. 
 
LUCERNE. 109 
 
 " Oh ! that is terrible ! " I exclaimed. " What was 
 the reason ? ' ' 
 
 " That was in consequence of one of the new repub- 
 lican laws," he went on to explain, growing animated. 
 4 ' They cannot comprehend here that a poor fellow 
 must earn his living somehow. If I were not a cripple, 
 I would work. But what harm do I do to any one 
 in the world by my singing? What does it mean? 
 The rich can live as they wish, un pauvre tiaple like 
 myself can't live at all. What kind of laws are these 
 republican ones? If that is the way they run, then we 
 don't want a republic : isn't that so, my dear sir? We 
 don't want a republic, but we want — we simply want 
 — we want " — he hesitated a little, — " we want 
 natural laws." 
 
 I filled up his glass. " You are not drinking," I 
 said. 
 
 He took the glass in his hand, and bowed to me. 
 
 " I know what you wish," he said, blinking his eyes 
 at me, and threatening me with his finger. "You 
 wish to make me drunk, so as to see what you can get 
 out of me ; but no, you sha'n't have that gratification." 
 
 4 'Why should I make you drunk?" I inquired. 
 I* All I wished was to give }*ou a pleasure." 
 
 He seemed really sorry that he had offended me by 
 interpreting my insistence so harshly. He grew con- 
 fused, stood up, and touched my elbow. 
 
 " No, no," said he, looking at me with a beseeching 
 expression in his moist eyes. " I was only joking." 
 
 And immediately after he made use of some horribly 
 uncultivated slang expression, intended to signify that 
 I was, nevertheless, a fine } T oung man. " Je ne vous 
 (lis que fa," he said in conclusion. In this fashion 
 the minstrel and I continued to drink and converse ; 
 
110 LUCERNE. 
 
 and the waiters continued unceremoniously to stare at 
 us, aud, as it seemed, to make ridicule of us. 
 
 In spite of the interest which our conversation 
 aroused in me, I could not avoid taking notice of their 
 behavior ; and 1 confess I began to grow more and 
 more augry. 
 
 One of the waiters arose, came up to the little man, 
 and, regarding the top of his head, began to smile. 
 I was already full of wrath against the inmates of the 
 hotel, and had not yet had a chance to pour it out on 
 any one ; and now I confess I was in the highest de- 
 gree irritated by this audience of waiters. 
 
 The porter, not removing his hat, came into the 
 room, and sat down near me, leaning his elbows on 
 the table. This last circumstance, which was so insult- 
 ing to my dignity or mj 7 vainglory, completely enraged 
 me, and gave an outlet for all the wrath which all the 
 evening long had been boiling within me. I asked 
 myself why he had so humbly bowed when he had met 
 me before, and now, because I was sitting with the 
 travelling minstrel, he came and took his place near 
 me so rudely? I was entirely overmastered by that 
 boiling, angry indignation which I enjoy in myself, 
 which I sometimes endeavor to stimulate when it comes 
 over me, because it has an exhilarating effect upon 
 me, and gives me, if only for a short time, a certain 
 extraordinary flexibility, energy, and strength in all 
 my physical and moral faculties. 
 
 I leaped to my feet. 
 
 44 Whom are you laughing at?" I screamed at the 
 waiter; and I felt my face turn pale, and my lips 
 involuntarily set together. 
 
 44 1 am not laughing," replied the waiter, moving 
 away from me. 
 
LUCERNE. Ill 
 
 " Yes, yon are : you are laughing at this gentleman. 
 And what right have you to come, and to take a seat 
 here, when there are guests? Don't you dare to sit 
 down ! ' ' 
 
 The porter, muttering something, got up, and turned 
 to the door. 
 
 " What right have you to make sport of this gentle- 
 man, and to sit down by him, when he is a guest, and 
 you are a waiter? Why didn't you laugh at me this 
 evening at dinner, and come and sit down beside me? 
 Because he is meanly dressed, and sings in the streets? 
 Is that the reason ? and because I have better clothes ? 
 He is poor, but he is a thousand times better than you 
 are ; that I am sure of, because he has never insulted 
 any one, but you have insulted him." 
 
 " I didn't mean any thing," replied my enemy the 
 waiter. tk Perhaps I disturbed him by sitting down." 
 
 The waiter did uot understand me, and my German 
 was wasted on him. The rude porter was about to 
 take the waiter's part ; but I fell upon him so impetu- 
 ously that the porter pretended not to understand me, 
 and waved his hand. 
 
 The hunch-backed dish-washer, either because she 
 perceived my wrathful state, and feared a scandal, or 
 possibly because she shared my views, took my part, 
 and, trying to force her way between me and the 
 porter, told him to hold his tongue, saying that I was 
 right, but at the same time urging me to calm myself. 
 
 14 Der Herr hat Recht ; Sie haben Mecki," she said 
 over and over again. The minstrel's face presented a 
 most pitiable, terrified expression ; and evidently he 
 did not understand why I was angry, and what I 
 wanted : and he urged me to let him go away as soon 
 as possible. 
 
112 LUC ERSE. 
 
 But the eloquence of wrath burned within me more 
 and more. I understood it all, — the throng that had 
 made merry at his expense, and his auditors who had 
 not given him any thing ; and not for all the world 
 would I have held my peace. 
 
 I believe, that, if the waiters and the porter had not 
 been so submissive, I should have taken delight In 
 having a brush with them, or striking the defenceless 
 English lady on the head with a stick. If at that 
 moment I had been at Sevastopol, I should have taken 
 delight in devoting myself to slaughtering and killing 
 in the English trench. 
 
 " And why did you take this gentleman and me into 
 this room, and not into the other? What?" I thun- 
 dered at the porter, seizing him by the arm so that he 
 could not escape from me. " What right had you to 
 judge hy his appearance that this gentleman must be 
 served in this room, and not in that? Have not all 
 guests who pay, equal rights in hotels ? Not only in a 
 republic, but in all the world ! Your scurvy republic ! 
 . . . Equality, indeed ! You would not dare to take 
 an Englishman into this room, not even those English- 
 men who have heard this gentleman free of cost ; that 
 is, who have stolen from him, each one of them, the 
 few centimes which ought to have been given to him. 
 How did you dare to take us to this room? " 
 
 "That room is closed," said the porter. 
 
 " No," I cried, " that isn't true ; it isn't closed." 
 
 " Then you know best." 
 
 11 1 know, — I know that you are lying." 
 
 The porter turned his back on me. 
 
 " Eh ! What is to be said? " he muttered. 
 
 "What is to be said? " I cried. " You conduct us 
 instanter into that room ! " 
 
LUCERNE. 113 
 
 In spite of the dish-washer's warning, and the en- 
 treaties of the minstrel, who would have preferred to 
 go home, I insisted on seeing the head waiter, and 
 went with my guest into the big dining-room. The 
 head waiter, hearing my angry voice, and seeing my 
 menacing face, avoided a quarrel, and, with contemptu- 
 ous servility, said that I might go wherever I pleased. 
 I could not prove to the porter that he had lied, because 
 he had hastened out of sight before I went into the 
 hall. 
 
 The dining-room was, in fact, open and lighted ; and 
 at one of the tables sat an Englishman and a lady, 
 eating their supper. Although we were shown to a 
 special table, I took the dirty minstrel to the very one 
 where the Englishman was, and bade the waiter bring 
 to us there the unfinished bottle. 
 
 The two guests at first looked with surprised, then 
 with angry, eyes at the little man, who, more dead than 
 alive, was sitting near me. They talked together in a 
 low tone ; then the lady pushed back her plate, her 
 silk dress rustled, and both of them left the room. 
 Through the glass doors I saw the Englishman saying 
 something in an angry voice to the waiter, and pointing 
 with his hand in our direction. The waiter put his 
 head through the door, and looked at us. I waited 
 with pleasurable anticipation for some one to come 
 and order us out, for then I could have found a full 
 outlet for all my indignation. But fortunately, though 
 at the time I felt injured, we were left in peace. The 
 minstrel, who before had fought sh} r of the wine, now 
 eagerly drank all that was left in the bottle, so that 
 he might make his escape as quickly as possible. 
 
 He, however, expressed his gratitude with deep feel- 
 ing, as it seemed to me, for his entertainment. His 
 
J 14 LUCERNE. 
 
 teary eyes grew still more humid and brilliant, and he 
 made use of a most strange and complicated phrase of 
 gratitude. But still very pleasant to me was the sen- 
 tence in which he said that if everybody treated artists 
 as I had been doing, it would be very good, and ended 
 by wishing me all manner of happiness. We went 
 out into the hall together. There stood the servants, 
 .ud my enemy the porter apparently airing his griev- 
 ances against me before them. All of them, I thought, 
 looked at me as though I were a man who had lost his 
 wits. I treated the little man exactly like an equal, 
 before all that audience of servants ; and then, with all 
 the respect that I was able to express in my behavior, 
 I took off my hat, and pressed his hand with its dry 
 and hardened fingers. 
 
 The servants made believe not pay the slightest 
 attention to me. One of them only indulged in a 
 sarcastic laugh. 
 
 As soon as the minstrel had bowed himself out, and 
 disappeared in the darkness, I went up-stairs to my 
 room, intending to sleep off all these impressions and 
 the foolish childish anger which had come upon me so 
 unexpectedly. But finding that I was too much ex- 
 cited to sleep, I once more went down into the street 
 with the intention of walking until I should have re- 
 covered my equanimity, and, I must confess, with the 
 secret hope that I might accidentally come across the 
 porter or the waiter or the Englishman, and show them 
 all their rudeness, and, most of all, their unfairness. 
 But beyond the porter, who when he saw me turned his 
 back, I met no one ; and I began to promenade in 
 absolute solitude along the quay. 
 
 " This is an example of the strange fate of poetry," 
 said I to myself, having grown a little calmer. " All 
 
LUCERNE. 115 
 
 love it, all are in search of it ; it is the only thing 
 in life that men love and seek, and yet no one recog- 
 nizes its power, no one prizes this best treasure of the 
 world, and those who give it to men are not rewarded. 
 Ask any one j t ou please, ask all these guests of the 
 Schweitzerhof, what is the most precious treasure in 
 the world, and all, or ninety-nine out of a hundred, 
 putting on a sardonic expression, will say that the,! 
 best thing in the world is money. 
 
 " ' Maybe, though, this does not please you, or coin- 
 cide with your elevated ideas,' it will be urged, 'but 
 what is to be done if human life is so constituted that 
 money alone is capable of giving a man happiness? 
 I cannot force my mind not to see the world as it is,' 
 it will be added, ' that is, to see the truth.' 
 
 "Pitiable is your intellect, pitiable the happiness 
 which you desire ! And you yourselves, unhappy crea- 
 tures, not knowing what you desire, . . . why have 
 you all left your fatherland, your relatives, your 
 money-making trades and occupations, and come to 
 this little Swiss city of Lucerne? Why did you all 
 this evening gather on the balconies, and in respectful 
 silence listen to the little beggar's song? And if he 
 had been willing to sing longer, you would have been 
 silent and listened longer. What ! could money, even 
 millions of it, have driven you all from your country, 
 and brought j t ou all together in this little nook of 
 Lucerne? Could money have gathered you all on the 
 balconies to stand for half an hour silent and motion- 
 less? No! One thing compels you to do it, and willj 
 forever have a stronger influence than all the other im- 
 pulses of life : the longing for poetiy which you knowy 
 which you do not realize, but feel, always will feel so 
 long as you have any human sensibilities. The word 
 
116 LUCERNE. 
 
 - \   vtry ' is a mockery to you ; you make use of it as 
 a sort of ridiculous reproach ; you regard the love for 
 poetry as something meet for children and silly girls, 
 and you make sport of them for it. For yourselves 
 you must have something more definite. 
 
 " But children look upon life in a healthy way : they 
 recognize and love what man ought to love, and what 
 gives happiness. But life has so deceived and per- 
 verted you, that you ridicule the only thing that you 
 really love, and you seek for what you hate and for 
 what gives you unhappiness. 
 
 " You are so perverted that 3'ou did not perceive what 
 obligations you were under to the poor T3'iolese who 
 rendered you a pure delight ; but at the same time you 
 feel yourselves needlessly obliged to bow before some 
 lord, which gives you neither pleasure nor profit, but 
 rather causes you to sacrifice your comfort and con- 
 venience. What absurdity ! what incomprehensible 
 lack of reason ! 
 
 " But it was not this that made the most powerful 
 impression upon me this evening. This blindness to all 
 that gives happiness, this unconsciousness of poetic 
 enjoyment, I can almost comprehend, or at least I 
 have become wonted to it, since I have almost everj 7 - 
 where met with it in the course of my life ; the harsh, 
 unconscious churlishness of the crowd was no novelty 
 to me : whatever those who argue in favor of popular 
 sentiment may say, the throng is a conglomeration of 
 very possibly good people, but of people who touch 
 each other only on their coarse animal sides, and ex- 
 press only the weakness and harshness of human 
 . nature. But how was it that you, children of a 
 humane people, you Christians, you simple people, 
 j repaid with coldness and ridicule the poor beggar who 
 
LUCERNE. 117 
 
 gave you a pure enjoyment? But no, in your country 
 there are asylums for beggars. There are no beggars, 
 there can be none ; and there can be no feelings of 
 sympathy, since that would be a confession that beggary 
 existed. 
 
 " But he labored, he gave you enjoyment, he be- 
 sought you to give him something of your superfluity 
 in payment for his labor of which you took advantage. 
 But you looked upon him with a cool smile as upon 
 one of the curiosities in your lofty brilliant palaces ; 
 and though there were a hundred of you, favored with 
 happiness and wealth, not one man or one woman 
 among you gave him a sou. Abashed he went away 
 from you, and the thoughtless throng, laughing, fol- 
 lowed and ridiculed not you, but him, because you were 
 cold, harsh, and dishonorable ; because you robbed him 
 in receiving the entertainment which he gave you : for 
 this they jeered him. 
 
 " ' On the 19th of July, 1857, before the Schweitzer- 
 hof Hotel, in which were lodging very opulent people, 
 a wandering beggar minstrel sang for half an hour his 
 songs, and played his guitar. About a hundred people 
 listened to him. The minstrel thrice asked you all to 
 give him something. No one person gave him a thing, 
 and many made sport of him.* 
 
 "This is not an invention, but an actual fact, as 
 tiiose who desire can find out for themselves by con- 
 sulting the papers for the list of those who were at the 
 Schweitzerhof on the 19th of July. 
 
 " This is an event which the historians of our time 
 ought to describe in letters of inextinguishable flame. 
 This event is more significant and more serious, and 
 fraught with far deeper meaning, than the facts that 
 are printed in newspapers and histories. That the 
 
118 • LUCERNE. 
 
 English have killed several thousand Chinese because 
 the Chinese would not sell them any thing for money 
 while their land is overflowing with ringing coins ; that 
 the French have killed several thousand Kabyles be- 
 cause the wheat grows well in Africa, and because 
 constant war is essential for the drill of an army ; that 
 the Turkish ambassador in Naples must not be a Jew ; 
 and that the Emperor Napoleon walks about in Plom- 
 ■rieres, and gives his people the express assurance that 
 le rules only in direct accordance with the will of the 
 people, — all these are words which darken or reveal 
 something long known. But the episode that took 
 place in Lucerne on the 19th of July seems to me 
 something entirely novel and strange, and it is con- 
 nected not with the everlastingly ugly side of human 
 nature, but with a well-known epoch in the development 
 of society. This fact is not for the history of human 
 activities, but for the history of progress and civilization. 
 "Why is it that this inhuman fact, impossible in any 
 country, — Germany, France, or Italy, — is quite pos- 
 sible here where civilization, freedom, and equality are 
 carried to the highest degree of development, where 
 there are gathered together the most civilized travellers 
 from the most civilized nations? Why is it that these 
 cultivated human beings, generally capable of every 
 honorable human action, had no hearty, human feeling 
 for one good deed ? Wiry is it that these people who in 
 their palaces, their meetings, and their societies, labor 
 warmly for the condition of the celibate Chinese in 
 India, about the spread of Christianity and culture 
 in Africa, about the formation of societies for attain- 
 ing all perfection, — why is it that they should not find 
 in their souls the simple, primitive feeling of human 
 sympathy? Has such a feeling entirely disappeared, 
 
LUCERNE. 119 
 
 and has its place been taken by vainglory, ambition, 
 and cupidity, governing these men in their palaces, 
 meetings, and societies? Has the spreading of that 
 reasonable, egotistical association of people, which we 
 call civilization, destroyed and rendered nugatory the 
 desire for instinctive and loving association ? And is 
 this that boasted equality for which so much innocent 
 blood has been shed, and so many crimes have been 
 perpetrated? Is it possible that nations, like children^ 
 can be made happy by the mere sound of the word} 
 4 equality ' ? 
 
 ' ' Equality before the law ? Does the whole life of a 
 people revolve within the sphere of law? Only the 
 thousandth part of it is subject to the law : the rest 
 lies outside of it, in the sphere of the customs and 
 intuitions of society. 
 
 " But in society the lackey is better dressed than the 
 minstrel, and insults him with impunity. I am better 
 dressed than the lackey, and insult him with impunity. 
 The porter considers me higher, but the minstrel lower, 
 than himself ; when I made the minstrel my compan- 
 ion, lie felt that he was on an equality with us both, and 
 behaved rudely. I was impudent to the porter, and the 
 porter acknowledged that he was inferior to me. The 
 waiter was impudent to the minstrel, and the minstrel 
 accepted the fact that he was inferior to the waiter. 
 
 "And is that government free, even though men seri- 
 ously call it free, wmere a single citizen can be thrown 
 into prison because, without harming any one, with- 
 out interfering with any one, he does the only thing 
 that he can to prevent himself from dying of starva- 
 tion ? 
 
 "A wretched, pitiable creature is man with his crav- 
 ing for positive solutions, thrown into this everlastingly 
 
120 LUCERNE. 
 
 tossing, limitless ocean of good and evil, of combina- 
 tions and contradictions. For centuries men have 
 been struggling and laboring to put the good on one 
 side, the evil on the other. Centuries will pass, and no 
 matter how much the unprejudiced mind may strive to 
 decide where the balance lies between the good and the 
 evil, tlie scales will refuse to tip the beam, and there 
 will always be equal quantities of the good and the evil 
 on each scale. 
 
 " If only man would learn to form judgments, and 
 not to indulge in rash and arbitrary thoughts, and not 
 to make reply to questions that are propounded merely 
 to remain forever unanswered ! If only he would learn 
 'that every thought is both a lie and a truth! — a lie 
 from the one-sidedness and inability of man to recog- 
 nize all truth ; and true because it expresses one side 
 of mortal endeavor. There are divisions in this ever- 
 lastingly tumultuous, endless, endlessly confused chaos 
 of the good and the evil. They have drawn imaginary 
 lines over this ocean, and the} T contend that the ocean 
 is really thus divided. 
 
 " But are there not millions of other possible subdi- 
 visions from absolutely different standpoints, in other 
 planes? Certainly these novel subdivisions will be 
 made in centuries to come, just as millions of different 
 ones have been made in centuries past. 
 
 " Civilization is good, barbarism is evil; freedom, 
 good; slavery, evil. Now, this imaginary knowledge 
 annihilates the instinctive, beatific, primitive craving 
 for the good that is in human nature. And who will 
 explain to me what is freedom, what is despotism, 
 what is civilization, what is barbarism? 
 
 "Where are the boundaries that separate them? 
 And whose soul possesses so absolute a standard of 
 
LUCERNE. 121 
 
 good and evil as to measure these fleeting, complicated 
 facts ? Whose wit is so great as to comprehend and 
 weigh all the facts in the irretrievable past? And who 
 can find any circumstance in which there is no union 
 of good and evil? And because I know that I see more 
 of one than of the other, is it not because my stand- 
 point is wrong ? And who has the ability to separate 
 himself so absolutely from life, even for a moment, as 
 to look upon it from above ? • 
 
 " One, only one infallible Guide we have, — the uni- 
 versal Spirit which penetrates all collectively and as 
 units, which has endowed each of us with the craving 
 for the right ; the Spirit which impels the tree to grow 
 toward the sun, which stimulates the flower in autumn- 
 tide to scatter its seed, and which obliges each one of 
 us unconsciously to draw closer together. And this 
 one unerring, inspiring voice rings out louder than the 
 noisy, hasty development of culture. 
 
 " Who is the greater man, and who the greater bar- 
 barian, — that lord, who, seeing the minstrel's well- 
 worn clothes, angrily left the table, who gave him not 
 the millionth part of his possessions in payment of his 
 labor, and now lazily sitting in his brilliant, comforta- 
 ble room, calmly opines about the events that are hap- 
 pening in China, and justifies the massacres that have 
 been done there ; or the little minstrel, who, risking 
 imprisonment, with a franc in his pocket, and doing 
 no harm to any one, has been going about for a score 
 of years, up hill and down dale, rejoicing men's hearts 
 with his songs, though they have jeered at him, and 
 almost cast him out of the pale of humanity ; and who, 
 in weariness and cold and shame, has gone off to sleep, 
 no one knows where, on his filthy straw?" 
 
 At this moment, from the city, through the dead 
 
122 LUCERNE. 
 
 silence of the night, far, far away, I caught the sound 
 of the little man's guitar and his voice. 
 
 41 No," something involuntarily said to me, "you 
 have no right to commiserate the little man, or to 
 blame the lord for his well-being. Who can weigh the 
 inner happiness which is found in the soul of each of 
 these men ? There he stands somewhere in the muddy 
 road, and gazes at the brilliant moonlit sky, and gayly 
 sings amid the smiling, fragrant night ; in his soul 
 there is no reproach, no anger, no regret. And who 
 knows what is transpiring now in the hearts of all 
 these men within those opulent, brilliant rooms? Who 
 knows if they all have as much unencumbered, sweet 
 delight in life, and as much satisfaction with the world, 
 as dwells in the soul of that little man? 
 
 u Endless are the mercy and wisdom of Him who has 
 permitted and formed all these contradictions. Only 
 to thee, miserable little worm of the dust, audaciously, 
 lawlessly attempting to fathom His laws, His designs, 
 — only to thee do they seem like contradictions. 
 
 ' ' Full of love He looks down from His bright, im- 
 measurable height, and rejoices in the endless harmony 
 in which you all move in endless contradictions. In 
 thy pride thou hast thought thyself able to separate 
 thyself from the laws of the universe. No, thou also, 
 with thy petty, ridiculous anger against the waiters, — 
 thou also hast disturbed the harmonious craving for 
 the eternal and the infinite. " . . . 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 A STORY. 
 
 Well, it happened about three o'clock. The gen- 
 tlemen were playing. There was the big stranger, as 
 our men called him. The prince was there, — the 
 two are always together. The whiskered barin was 
 there ; also the little hussar, Oliver, who was an actor, 
 and there was the pan. 1 It was a pretty good crowd. 
 
 The big stranger and the prince were playing to- 
 gether. Now, here I was walking up and down around 
 the billiard-table with my stick, keeping tally, — ten 
 and forty-seven, twelve and forty-seven. 
 
 Everybody knows it's our business to score. You 
 don't get a ohance to get a bite of any thing, and 
 you don't get to bed till two o'clock o' nights, but 
 you're always being screamed at to bring the balls. 
 
 I was keeping tally ; and I look, and see a new barin 
 comes in at the door. He gazed and gazed, and then 
 sat down on the sofa. Very well ! 
 
 "Now, who can that be?" thinks I to myself. 
 "He must be somebody." 
 
 His dress was neat, — neat as a pin, — checkered 
 tricot pants, stylish little short coat, plush vest, and 
 gold chain and all sorts of trinkets dangling from it. 
 
 1 Polish name for lord or gentleman. 
 123 
 
124 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 He was dressed neat ; but there was something 
 about the man neater still ; slim, tall, his hair brushed 
 forward in style, and his face fair and ruddy, — well, 
 in a word, a fine young fellow. 
 
 You must know our business brings us into contact 
 with all sorts of people. And there's many that ain't 
 of much consequence, and there's a good deal of poor 
 trash. So, though you're only a scorer, you get used 
 to telling folks ; that is, in a certain way you learn a 
 thing or two. 
 
 I looked at the barin. I see him sit down, modest 
 and quiet, not knowing anybody ; and the clothes on 
 him are so bran-new, that thinks I, " Either he's a 
 foreigner, — an Englishman maybe, — or some count 
 just come. And though he's so young, he has an air 
 of some distinction." Oliver sat down next him, so 
 he moved along a little. 
 
 They began a game. The big man lost. He 
 shouts to me. Says he, " You're always cheating. 
 You don't count straight. Why don't you pay atten- 
 tion ?" 
 
 He scolded away, then threw down his cue, and went 
 out. Now, just look here ! Evenings, he and the 
 prince plays for fifty silver rubles a game ; and here 
 he only lost a bottle of Makon wine, and got mad. 
 That's the kind of a character he is. 
 
 Another time he and the prince plays till two o'clock. 
 They don't bank down any cash ; and so I know 
 neither of them's got any cash, but they are simply 
 playing a bluff game. 
 
 44 I'll go you twenty-five rubles," says he. 
 
 ''All right." 
 
 Just yawning, and not even stopping to place the 
 ball, — you see, he was not made of stone, — now just 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 125 
 
 notice what he said. "We are playing for money," 
 says he, " and not for chips." 
 
 But this man puzzled me worse than all the rest. 
 Well, then, when the big man left, the prince says 
 to the new barin, "Wouldn't you like," says he, "to 
 play a game with me? " 
 
 "With pleasure," says he. 
 
 He sat there, and looked rather foolish, indeed he 
 did. He may have been courageous in reality ; but, 
 at all events, he got up, went over to the billiard- table, 
 and did not seem flustered as yet. He was not exactly 
 flustered, but you couldn't help seeing that he was not 
 quite at his ease. 
 
 Either his clothes were a little too new, or he was 
 embarrassed because everybody was looking at him ; 
 at any rate, he seemed to have no energy. He sort of 
 sidled up to the table, caught his pocket on the edge, 
 began to chalk his cue, dropped his chalk. 
 
 Whenever he hit the ball, he always glanced around, 
 and reddened. Not so the prince. He was used to it ; 
 he chalked and chalked his hand, tucked up his sleeve ; 
 he goes and sits down when he pockets the ball, even 
 though he is such a little man. 
 
 They played two or three games ; then I notice the 
 prince puts up the cue, and says, " Would you mind 
 telling me your name ? ' ' 
 
 " Nekhliudof," says he. 
 
 Says the prince, " Was your father commander in 
 the corps of cadets? " 
 
 " Yes," saj's the other. 
 
 Then they began to talk in French, and I could not 
 understand them. I suppose they were talking about 
 family affairs. 
 
 " Au revoir" says the prince. " I am very glad to 
 
126 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 have made your acquaintance." He washed his hands, 
 and went to get a lunch ; but the other stood by the 
 billiard-table with his cue, and was knocking the balls 
 about. 
 
 It's our business, you know, when a new man 
 comes along, to be rather sharp : it's the best way. I 
 took the balls, and go to put them up. He reddened, 
 and says, " Can't I play any longer? " 
 
 "Certainly you can," says I. " That's what bill- 
 iards is for." But I don't pay any attention to him. 
 I straighten the cues. 
 
 M Will you play with me? " 
 
 "Certainly, sir," says I. 
 
 I place the balls. 
 
 u Shall we play for odds? " 
 
 " What do you mean, — ' play for odds ' ? " 
 
 "Well," says I, "you give me a half-ruble, and I 
 crawl under the table." 
 
 Of course, as he had never seen that sort of thing, 
 it seemed strange to him : he laughs. 
 
 " Go ahead," says he. 
 
 " Very well," says I, " only you must give me 
 odds." 
 
 " What! " saj's he, " are you a worse player than 
 lam?" 
 
 " Most likely," says I. " We have few players who 
 can be compared with you." 
 
 We began to play. He certainly had the idea that 
 he was a crack shot. It was a caution to see him 
 shoot ; but the Pole sat there, and kept shouting out 
 every time, — 
 
 " Ah, what a chance ! ah, what a shot ! " 
 
 But what a man he was ! His ideas were good 
 enough, but he didn't know how to carry them out. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 127 
 
 Well, as usual I lost the first game, crawled under the 
 table, and grunted. 
 
 Thereupon Oliver and the Pole jumped down from 
 their seats, and applauded, thumping with their cues. 
 
 "Splendid! Do it again," they cried, " once 
 more." 
 
 Well enough to cry "once more," especially for the 
 Pole. That fellow would have been glad enough to 
 crawl under the billiard- table, or even under the Blue 
 bridge, for a half -ruble ! Yet he was the first to cry, 
 "Splendid! but you haven't wiped off all the dust 
 
 yet." 
 
 I, Petrushka the marker, was prett} 7 well known to 
 everybody. 
 
 Only, of course, I did not care to show my hand 
 yet. I lost my second game. 
 
 " It does not become me at all to play with you, 
 sir," says I. 
 
 He laughs. Then, as I was playing the third game, 
 he stood forty-nine and I nothing. I laid the cue on 
 the billiard-table, and said, " Barin, shall we play off ? " 
 
 "What do you mean by playing off?" says he. 
 " How would you have it?" 
 
 " You make it three rubles or nothing," says I. 
 
 "Why," says he, "have I been playing with you 
 for money?" The fool ! 
 
 He turned rather red. 
 
 Very good. He lost the game. He took out his 
 pocket-book, — quite a new one, evidently just from 
 the English shop, — opened it: I see he wanted to 
 make a little splurge. It is stuffed full of bills, — 
 nothing but hundred-ruble notes. 
 
 " No," says he, " there's no small stuff here." 
 
 He took three rubles from his purse. "There," 
 
128 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 says he, " there's your two rubles ; the other pays for 
 the games, and you keep the rest for vodka." 
 
 " Thank you, sir, most kindly." I see that he is a 
 splendid fellow. For such a one I would crawl under 
 any thing. For one thing, it's a pity that he won't 
 play for money. For then, thinks I, I should know 
 how to work him for twenty rubles, and maybe I could 
 stretch it out to forty. 
 
 As soon as the Pole saw the young man's money, he 
 says, " Wouldn't you like to try a little game with me? 
 You play so admirably." Such sharpers prowl around. 
 
 "No," says the young man, "excuse me: I have 
 not the time." And he went out. 
 
 I don't know who that man was, that Pole. Some 
 one called him Pan or the Pole, and so it stuck to him. 
 Every day he used to sit in the billiard-room, and 
 always look on. He was no longer allowed to take a 
 hand in any game whatever; but he always sat by 
 himself, and got out his pipe, and smoked. But then 
 he could play well. 
 
 Very good. Nekhliudof came a second time, a third 
 time ; he began to come frequently. He would come 
 morning and evening. He learned to play French 
 carom and pyramid pool, — everything in fact. He 
 became less bashful, got acquainted with everybody, 
 and played tolerably well. Of course, being a young 
 man of a good family, with money, everybody liked 
 him. The only exception was the "big guest:" he 
 quarrelled with him. 
 
 And the whole thing grew out of a trifle. 
 
 They were playing pool, — the prince, the big 
 guest, Nekhliudof, Oliver, and some one else. Nekh- 
 liudof was standing near the stove talking with some 
 one. When it came the big man's turn to play, it 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 129 
 
 happened that his ball was just opposite the stove. 
 There was very little space there, and he liked to have 
 elbow-room. 
 
 Now, either he didn't see Nekhliudof , or he did it on 
 purpose ; but, as he was flourishing his cue, he hit 
 Nekhliudof in the chest, a tremendous rap. It actually 
 made him groan. What then? He did not think 
 of apologizing, he was so boorish. He even went 
 further : he didn't look at him ; he walks off grum- 
 bling, — 
 
 "Who's jostling me there? It made me miss my 
 shot. Why can't we have some room? " 
 
 Then the other went up to him, pale as a sheet, but 
 quite self-possessed, and says so politely, — 
 
 " You ought first, sir, to apologize : you struck me," 
 says he. 
 
 "Catch me apologizing now! I should have won 
 the game," says he, "but now you have spoiled it 
 for me." 
 
 Then the other one says, " You ought to apologize." 
 
 " Get out of my way ! I insist upon it, I won't." 
 
 And he turned away to look after his ball. 
 
 Nekhliudof went up to him, and took him by the 
 arm. 
 
 " You're a boor," says he, " my dear sir." 
 
 Though he was a slender young fellow, almost like 
 a girl, still he was all ready for a quarrel. His ej'es 
 flash fire ; he looks as if he could eat him alive. The 
 big guest was a strong, tremendous fellow, no match 
 for Nekhliudof. 
 
 " Wha-at !" says he, " you call me a boor? " Yell- 
 ing out these words, he raises his hand to strike him. 
 
 Then everybody there rushed up, and seized them 
 both bj' the arms, and separated them. 
 
130 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 After much talk, Nekhliudof says, " Let him give 
 me satisfaction : he has insulted me." 
 
 44 Not at all," said the other. " I don't care a whit 
 about any satisfaction. He's nothing but a boy, a 
 mere nothing. I'll pull his cars for him." 
 
 44 If you aren't willing to give me satisfaction, then 
 you are no gentleman." 
 
 And, saying this, he almost cried. 
 
 14 Well, and you, you are a little boy : nothing you 
 say or do can offend me." 
 
 Well, we separated them, — led them off, as the 
 custom is, to different rooms. Nekhliudof and the 
 prince were friends. 
 
 44 Go," says the former ; u for God's sake make him 
 listen to reason." 
 
 The prince went. The big man sa3's, " I ain't 
 afraid of any one," says he. "I am not going to have 
 any explanation with such a baby. I won't do it, and 
 that's the end of it." 
 
 Well, they talked and talked, and then the matter died 
 out, only the big guest ceased to come to us any more. 
 
 As a result of this, — this row, I might call it, — 
 he was regarded as quite the cock of the walk. He 
 was quick to take offence, — I mean Nekhliudof, — 
 as to so many other things, however, he was as unso- 
 phisticated as a new-born babe. 
 
 I remember once, the prince says to Nekhliudof, 
 44 Whom do } T ou keep here? " 
 
 44 No one," says he. 
 
 44 What do you mean, — 4 no one ' ! " 
 
 44 Why should I?" says Nekhliudof. 
 
 44 How so, — why should you? " 
 
 44 1 have always lived thus. Why shouldn't I con- 
 tinue to live the same way? " 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 131 
 
 " You don't say so? Did you ever ! " 
 
 And saying this, the prince burst into a peal of 
 laughter, and the whiskered barin also roared. They 
 couldn't get over it. 
 
 " What, never ? " they asked. 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 They were dying with laughter. Of course I under- 
 stood well enough what they were laughing at him for. 
 I keep my eyes open. " What," thinks I, " will come 
 of it?" 
 
 " Come," says the prince, " come right off." 
 
 " No ; not for any thing," was his answer. 
 
 " Now, that is absurd," says the prince. "Come 
 along! " 
 
 They went out. 
 
 They came back at one o'clock. They sat down to 
 supper ; quite a crowd of them were assembled. Some 
 of our very best customers, — Atanof, Prince Razin, 
 Count Shustakh, Mirtsof . And all congratulate Nekh- 
 liudof, laughing as they do so. They call me in: I 
 see that they are pretty jolly. 
 
 M Congratulate the barin," they shout. 
 
 "What on?" I ask. 
 
 How did he call it? His initiation or his enlighten- 
 ment ; I can't remember exactly. 
 
 "I have the honor," says I, "to congratulate 
 you." 
 
 And he sits there very red in the face, yet he smiles. 
 Didn't they have fun with him though ! 
 
 Well and good. They went afterwards to the bill- 
 iard-room, all very gay ; and Nekhliudof went up to 
 the billiard- table, leaned on his elbow, and said, — 
 
 "It's amusing to you, gentlemen," says he, "but 
 it's sad for me. Why," says he, "did I do it? 
 
132 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 Prince," says he, "I shall never forgive you or myself 
 as long as I live." 
 
 And he actually burst into tears. Evidently he did 
 not know himself what he was saying. The prince 
 went up to him with a smile. 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense," says he. " Let's go home, 
 Anatoli." 
 
 "I won't go anywhere," says the other. u Why 
 did I do that?" 
 
 And the tears poured down his cheeks. He would 
 not leave the billiard-table, and that was the end of it. 
 That's what it means for a young and inexperienced 
 man to . . . 
 
 In this wa} r he used often to come to us. Once he 
 came with the prince, and the whiskered man who was 
 the prince's crony ; the gentlemen always called him 
 "Fedotka." He had prominent cheek-bones, and was 
 homely enough, to be sure ; but he used to dress neatly 
 and ride in a carriage. What was the reason that the 
 gentlemen were so fond of him? I really could not 
 tell. 
 
 "Fedotka! Fedotka! " they'd call, and ask him to 
 eat and to drink, and they'd spend their money paying 
 up for him ; but he was a thorough-going beat. If 
 ever he lost, he would be sure not to pay ; but if he 
 won, you bet he wouldn't fail to collect his money. 
 Often too he came to grief : yet there he was, walking 
 arm in arm with the prince. 
 
 "You are lost without me," he would say to the 
 prince. " I am, Fedot," * says he ; " but not a Fedot 
 of that sort." 
 
 And what jokes he used to crack, to be sure ! Well, 
 as I said, they had already arrived that time, and one 
 
 1 Fedot, da nijd tot, an untranslatable play on the word. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 133 
 
 of them says, "Let's have the balls for three-handed 
 pool." 
 
 14 All right," says the other. 
 
 They began to play at three rubles a stake. Nekh- 
 liuclof and the prince play, and chat about all sorts of 
 things meantime. 
 
 44 Ah ! " says one of them, " you mind only what a 
 neat little foot she has." 
 
 "Oh," says the other, "her foot is nothing; her 
 beauty is her wealth of hair." 
 
 Of course they paid no attention to the game, only 
 kept on talking to one another. 
 
 As to Fedotka, that fellow was alive to his work ; he 
 played his very best, but they didn't do themselves 
 justice at all. 
 
 And so he won six rubles from each of them. God 
 knows how many games he had won from the prince, 
 yet I never knew them to pay each other any money ; 
 but Nekhliudof took out two greenbacks, and handed 
 them over to him. 
 
 " No," says he, " I don't want to take your money. 
 Let's square it: play 'quits or double,' 1 — either 
 double or nothing." 
 
 I set the balls. Fedotka began to play the first^ 
 hand. Nekhliudof seemed to play only for fun : some- 
 times he would come very near winning a game, yet 
 just fail of it. Says he, "It would be too easy a 
 move, I won't have it so." But Fedotka did not for- 
 get what he was up to. Carelessly he proceeded with 
 the game, and thus, as if it were unexpectedly, won. 
 
 " Let us play double stakes once more," says he. 
 
 44 All right," says Nekhliudof. 
 
 Once more Fedotka won the game. 
 
 1 Kitudubl — Fr. quitte ou double. 
 
134 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 " Well," says he, " it began with a mere trifle. I 
 don't wish to win much from you. Shall we make it 
 once more or nothing? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Say what you may, but fifty rubles is a pretty sum, 
 and Nekhliudof himself began to propose, " Let us make 
 it double or quit." So they played and played. 
 
 It kept going worse and worse for Nekhliudof. 
 Two hundred and eighty rubles were written up against 
 him. As to Fedotka, he had his own method: he 
 would lose a simple game, but when the stake was 
 doubled, he would win sure. 
 
 As for the prince, he sits by and looks on. He sees 
 that the matter is growing serious. 
 
 " Enough ! " * says he, " hold on." 
 
 My ! they keep increasing the stake. 
 
 At last it went so far that Nekhliudof was in for 
 more than five hundred rubles. Fedotka laid down his 
 cue, and said, — 
 
 " Aren't you satisfied for to-day ? I'm tired," says he. 
 
 Yet I knew he was ready to play till dawn of day, 
 provided there was money to be won. Stratagem, of 
 course. And the other was all the more anxious to go 
 on. " Come on ! Come on ! " 
 
 "No, — 'pon my honor, I'm tired. Come," says 
 Fedot ; " let's go up-stairs ; there you shall have your 
 revanche." 
 
 Up-stairs with us meant the place where the gentle- 
 men used to play cards. From that very day, Fedotka 
 wound his net round him so that he began to come 
 every day. He would play one or two games of 
 billiards, and then proceed up-stairs, — every day 
 up-stairs. 
 
 1 as6=aH8ez. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 135 
 
 What they used to do there, God only knows ; but it 
 is a fact that from that time he began to be an entirely 
 different kind of man, and seemed hand in glove with 
 Fedotka. Formerly he used to be stylish, neat in his 
 dress, with his hair slightly curled even ; but now it 
 would be only in the morning that he would be any 
 thing like himself ; but as soon as he had paid his visit 
 up-stairs, he would not be at all like himself. 
 
 Once he came down from up-stairs with the prince, 
 pale, his lips trembling, and talking excitedly. 
 
 " I cannot permit such a one as he is," says he, " to 
 say that I am not V — How did he express himself ? I 
 cannot recollect, something like " not refined enough," 
 or what, — "and that he won't play with me any 
 more. I tell you I have paid him ten thousand, and I 
 should think that he might be a little more considerate, 
 before others, at least." 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " says the prince, " is it worth while to 
 lose one's temper with Fedotka? " 
 
 " No," says the other, " I will not let it go so." 
 
 " Why, old fellow, how can you think of such a 
 thing as lowering yourself to have a row with 
 Fedotka?" 
 
 "That is all very well; but there were strangers 
 there, mind you." 
 
 "Well, what of that?" says the prince; "stran- 
 gers ? Well, if you wish, I will go and make him ask 
 your pardon." 
 
 " No," says the other. 
 
 And then they began to chatter in French, and I 
 could not understand what it was they were talking 
 about. 
 
 And what would you think of it? That very evening 
 he and Fedotka ate supper together, and they became 
 friends ayrain. 
 
136 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 Well aud good. At other times again he would 
 come alone. 
 
 " Well," he would say, " do I play well? " 
 
 It's our business, you know, to try to make every- 
 body contented, and so I would say, " Yes, indeed ; " 
 aud yet how could it be called good play, when he 
 would poke about with his cue without any sense what- 
 ever ? 
 
 And from that very evening when he took in with 
 Fedotka, he began to play for money all the time. 
 Formerly he didn't care to play for stakes, either for a 
 dinner or for champagne. Sometimes the prince would 
 say,— 
 
 M Let's play for a bottle of champagne." 
 
 11 No," he would say. " Let us rather have the wine 
 by itself. Hollo there ! briug a bottle ! " 
 
 And now he began to play for money all the time ; 
 he used to spend his entire days in our establishment. 
 He would either play with some one in the billiard- 
 room, or he would go " up-stairs." 
 
 Well, thinks I to myself, every one else gets some- 
 thing from him, why don't I get some advantage out 
 of it? 
 
 " Well, sir," says I one day, " it's a long time since 
 you have had a game with me." 
 
 And so we began to play. Well, when I won ten 
 half-rubles of him, I says, — 
 
 " Don't you want to make it double or quit, sir? " 
 
 He said nothing. Formerly, if you remember, he 
 would call me a fool for such a boldness. And we 
 went to playing " quit or double." 
 
 I won eight} r rubles of him. 
 
 Well, what would you think? Since that first time he 
 used to play with me every day. He would wait till 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 137 
 
 there was no one about, for of course he would have 
 been ashamed to play with a mere marker in presence 
 of others. Once he had got rather warmed up by the 
 play (he already owed me sixty rubles), and so he 
 says, — 
 
 " Do you want to stake all you have won? " 
 
 4 'All right," says I. 
 
 I won. "One hundred and twenty to one hundred 
 and twenty?" 
 
 "All right," says I. 
 
 Again I won. " Two hundred and forty against two 
 hundred and forty? " 
 
 " Isn't that too much? " I ask. 
 - He made no reply. We played the game. Once 
 more it was mine. " Four hundred and eighty against 
 four hundred and eighty? " 
 
 I says, " Well, sir, I don't want to wrong you. Let 
 us make it a hundred rubles that you owe me, and call 
 it square." 
 
 You ought to have heard how he yelled at this, and 
 yet he was not a proud man at all. u Either play, or 
 don't play ! " says he. 
 
 Well, I see there's nothing to be done. " Three 
 hundred and eighty, then, if you please," says I. 
 
 I really wanted to lose. I allowed him forty points 
 in advance. He stood fifty-two to my thirty-six. He 
 began to cut the yellow one, and missed eighteen 
 points ; and I was standing just at the turning-point. 
 I made a stroke so as to knock the ball off of the 
 billiard-table. No — so luck would have it. Do what 
 I might, he even missed the doublet. I had won 
 again. 
 
 " Listen," says he. " Peter," — he did not call me 
 Petrushka then, — U I can't pay you the whole right 
 
138 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 away. In a couple of months I could pay three 
 thousand even, if it were necessary." 
 
 And there he stood just as red, and his voice 
 kind of trembled. 
 
 41 Very good, sir," says I. 
 
 With this he laid down the cue. Then he began to 
 walk up and down, up and down, the perspiration 
 running down his face. 
 
 44 Peter," says he, M let's try it again, double or 
 quit." 
 
 And he almost burst into tears. 
 
 44 What, sir, what! would you play against such 
 luck?" 
 
 k ' Oh, let us play, I beg of you." And he brings the 
 cue, and puts it in my hand. 
 
 I took the cue, and I threw the balls on the table so 
 that they bounced over on to the floor; I could not 
 help showing off a little, naturally. I say, 44 All right, 
 sir." 
 
 But he was in such a hurry that he went and picked 
 up the balls himself, and I thinks to myself, "Any- 
 way, I'll never be able to get the seven hundred rubles 
 from him, so I can lose them to him all the same." I 
 began to play carelessly on purpose. But no — he 
 won't have it so. 4 ' Why," says he, 44 you are playing 
 badly on purpose." 
 
 But his hands trembled, and when the ball went 
 towards a pocket, his fingers would spread out and his 
 mouth would screw up to one side, as if he could by 
 an}- means force the ball into the pocket. Even I 
 couldn't stand it, and I say, " That won't do any good, 
 sir." 
 
 Very well. As he won this game I says, fc ' This will 
 make it one hundred and eighty rubles you owe me, and 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 139 
 
 fifty games ; and now I must go and get my supper." 
 So I laid down my cue, and went off. 
 
 I went and sat down all by myself, at a small table 
 opposite the door ; and I look in and see, and wonder 
 what he will do. Well, what would you think? He 
 began to walk up and down, up and down, probably 
 thinking that no one's looking at him ; and then he 
 would give a pull at his hair, and then walk up and 
 down again, and keep muttering to himself; and then 
 he would pull his hair again. 
 
 After that he wasn't seen for a week. Once he 
 came into the dining-room as gloomy as could be, but 
 he didn't enter the billiard-room. The prince caught 
 sight of him. 
 
 u Come," says he, M let's have a game." 
 
 u No," says the other, "lam not going to play any 
 more." 
 
 " Nonsense ! come along." 
 
 " No," says he, " I won't come, I tell you. For you 
 it's all one whether I go or not, yet for me it's no good 
 to come here." 
 
 And so he did not come for ten days more. And 
 then, it being the holidays, he came dressed up in a 
 dress suit: he'd evidently been into company. And 
 he was here all day long; he kept playing, and he 
 came the next day, and the third. . . . 
 
 And it began to go in the old style, and I thought it 
 would be fine to have another trial with him. 
 
 M No," says he, "I'm not going to play with you; 
 and as to the one hundred and eighty rubles that I owe 
 you, if you'll come at the end of a month, you shall 
 have it." 
 
 Very good. So I went to him at the end of a month. 
 
 "• By God," says he, "I can't give it to you; but 
 come back on Thursday." 
 
140 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 Well, I went on Thursday. I found that he had a 
 splendid suite of apartments. 
 
 u Weil," says I, " is he at home?" 
 
 " He hasn't got up yet," I was told. 
 
 14 Very good, I will wait." 
 
 For a body-servant he had one of his own serfs, 
 such a gray-haired old man ! That servant was per- 
 fectly single-minded, he didn't know any thing about 
 beating about the bush. So we got into conversation. 
 
 " Well," says he, "what is the use of our living 
 here, master and I? He's squandered all his property, 
 and it's mighty little honor or good that we get out 
 of this Petersburg of yours. As we started from the 
 country, I thought it would be as it was with the last 
 barin (may his soul rest in peace !), we would go about 
 with princes and counts and generals ; he thought to 
 himself, ' I'll find a countess for a sweet-heart, and 
 she'll have a big dowry, and we'll live on a big scale.' 
 But it's quite a different thing from what he expected ; 
 here we are, running about from one tavern to another 
 as bad off as we could be ! The Princess Rtishcheva, 
 you know, is his own aunt, and Prince Borotintsef is his 
 godfather. What do you think? He went to see them 
 only once, that was at Christmas-time ; he never shows 
 his nose there. Yes, and even their people laugh about 
 it to me. 'Why,' says they, 'your barm, is not a bit 
 like his father ! ' And once I take it upon myself to 
 say to him, — 
 
 '* 'Why wouldn't you go, sir, and visit your aunt? 
 They are feeling bad because you haven't been for so 
 long.' 
 
 " ' It's stupid there, Demy&nitch,' sa} r s he. Just to 
 think, he found his only amusement here in the saloon ! 
 If he only would enter the service! yet, no: he has 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 141 
 
 got entangled witli cards and all the rest of it. When 
 men get going that way, there's no good in any thing ; 
 nothing comes to any good. . . . E-ekh! we are going 
 to the dogs, and no mistake. . . . The late mistress 
 (may her soul rest in peace !) left us a rich inheritance : 
 no less than a thousand souls, and about three hundred 
 thousand rubles worth of timber-lands. He has mort- 
 gaged it all, sold the timber, let the estate go to rack 
 and ruin, and still no money on hand. When the 
 master is away, of course, the overseer is more than 
 the master. What does he care? He only cares to 
 stuff his own pockets. 
 
 " A few days ago, a couple of peasants brought 
 complaints from the whole estate. 4 He has wasted the 
 last of the property,' they say. What do you think? 
 he pondered over the complaints, and gave the peasants 
 ten rubles apiece. Says he, ' I'll be there very soon. 
 I shall have some money, and I will settle all accounts 
 when I come,' says he. 
 
 "But how can he settle accounts when we are get- 
 ting into debt all the time ? Money or no money, yet 
 the winter here has cost eighty thousand rubles, and 
 now there isn't a silver ruble in the house. And all 
 owing to his kind-heartedness. You see, he's such 
 a simple barin that it would be hard to find his equal : 
 that's the very reason that he's going to ruin, — going 
 to ruin, all for nothing." And the old man almost 
 wept. 
 
 Nekhliudof woke up about eleven, and called me 
 in. 
 
 " They haven't sent me any money yet," says he. 
 " But it isn't my fault. Shut the door," says he. 
 
 I shut the door. 
 
 " Here," says he, M take my watch or this diamond 
 
142 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 pin, and pawn it. They will give you more than one 
 hundred ami eighty rubles for it, and when I get my 
 money I will redeem it," says he. 
 
 44 No matter, sir," says I. 44 If you don't happen 
 to have any money, it's no consequence ; let me have 
 the watch if you don't mind. I can wait for your 
 convenience." 
 
 I can see that the watch is worth more than three 
 hundred. 
 
 Very good. I pawned the watch for a hundred 
 rubles, and carried him the ticket. " You will owe me 
 eighty rubles," says I, u and you had better redeem 
 the watch." 
 
 And so it happened that he still owed me eighty 
 rubles. 
 
 After that he began to come to us again every day. 
 I don't know how matters stood between him and the 
 prince, but at all events he kept coming with him all 
 the time, or else they would go and play cards up-stairs 
 with Fedotka. And what queer accounts those three 
 men kept between them ! this one would lend money to 
 the other, the other to the third, yet who it was that 
 owed the money j r ou never could find out. 
 
 And in this way he kept on coming our way for 
 well-nigh two years ; only it was to be plainly seen that 
 he was a changed man, such a devil-may-care manner 
 he assumed at times. He even went so far at times 
 as to borrow a ruble of me to pay a hack-driver ; and 
 yet he would still play with the prince for a hundred 
 rubles stake. 
 
 He grew gloomy, thin, sallow, As soon as he came 
 he used to order a little glass of absinthe, take a bite 
 of something, and drink some port wine, and then he 
 would giow more lively. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 143 
 
 He came one time before dinner ; it happened to be 
 carnival time, and he began to play with a hussar. 
 
 Says he, " Do you want to play for a stake? *' 
 
 " Very well," says he. " What shall it be ? " 
 
 "A bottle of Claude Vougeaux? What do you 
 say?" 
 
 " All right." 
 
 Very good. The hussar won, and they went off for 
 their dinner. They sat down at table, and then Nekh- 
 liudof says, " Simon, a bottle of Claude Vougeaux, 
 and see that you warm it to the proper point." 
 
 Simon went out, brought in the dinner, but no wine. 
 
 " Well," says he, " where's the wine? " 
 
 Simon hurried out, brought in the roast. 
 
 " Let us have the wine," says he. 
 
 Simon makes no reply. 
 
 M What's got into you? Here we've almost finished 
 dinner, and no wine. Who wants to drink with des- 
 sert?" 
 
 Simon hurried out. "The landlord," says he, 
 " wants to speak to you." 
 
 Nekhliudof turned scarlet. He sprang up from the 
 table. 
 
 " What's the need of calling me? " 
 
 The landlord is standing at the door. 
 
 Says he, "I can't trust you any more, unless you 
 settle my little bill." 
 
 " Well, didn't I tell you that I would pay the first 
 of the month? " 
 
 "That will be all very well," says the landlord, 
 " but I can't be all the time giving credit, and having 
 no settlement. There are more than ten thousand 
 rubles of debts outstanding now," says he. 
 
 " Well, that'll do, monshoor, you know that you 
 
144 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 can trust me ! Send the bottle, and I assure you that 
 I will pay you very soon." 
 
 And he hurried back. 
 
 " What was it? why did they call you out? M asked 
 the hussar. 
 
 " Oh, some one wanted to ask me a question." 
 
 " Now it would be a good time," says the hussar, 
 u to have a little warm wine to drink." 
 
 M Simon, hurry up ! " 
 
 Simon came back, but still no wine, nothing. Too 
 bad ! He left the table, and came to me. 
 
 "For God's sake," says he, "Petrushka, let me 
 have six rubles! " 
 
 He was pale as a sheet. "No, sir," says I: "by 
 God, you owe me quite too much now." 
 
 " I will give forty rubles for six, in a week's time." 
 
 " If only I had it," says I, " I should not think of 
 refusing you, but I haven't." 
 
 What do you think ! He rushed away, his teeth set, 
 his fist doubled up, and ran down the corridor like one 
 mad, and all at once he gave himself a knock on the 
 forehead. 
 
 " O my God ! " says he, " what has it come to? " 
 
 But he did not return to the dining-room ; he jumped 
 into a carriage, and drove away. Didn't we have our 
 laugh over it ! The hussar asks, — 
 
 " Where is the gentleman who was dining with 
 me?" 
 
 " He has gone," said some one. 
 
 "Where has he gone? What message did he 
 leave?" 
 
 " He didn't leave any ; he just took to his carriage, 
 and went off." 
 
 " That's a fine way of entertaining a man ! " says he. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 145 
 
 Now, thinks I to myself, it'll be a long time before 
 he comes again after this ; that is, on account of this 
 scandal. But no. On the next day he came about 
 evening. He came into the billiard-room. He had a 
 sort of a box in his hand. Took off his overcoat. 
 
 " Now let us have a game," says he. 
 
 He looked out from under his eyebrows, rather 
 fierce like. 
 
 We played a game. " That's enough now," says 
 he : "go and bring me a pen and paper ; I must write 
 a letter." 
 
 Not thinking any thing, not suspecting any thing, I 
 bring some paper, and put it on the table in the little 
 room. 
 
 " It's all ready, sir," says I. 
 
 " Very good." He sat down at the table. He kept 
 on writing and writing, and muttering to himself all the 
 time : then he jumps up, and, frowning, says, " Look 
 and see if my carriage has come yet." 
 
 It was on a Friday, during carnival time, and so 
 there weren't any of the customers on hand ; they 
 were all at some ball. I went to see about the car- 
 riage, and just as I was going out of the door, 
 " Petrushka ! Petrushka ! " he shouted, as if something 
 suddenly frightened him. 
 
 I turn round. I see he's pale as a sheet, standing 
 here and looking at me. 
 
 " Did you call me, sir? " says I. 
 
 He makes no reply. 
 
 " What do you want? " says I. 
 
 He says nothing. "Oh, yes!" says he. "Let's 
 have another game." 
 
 Then says he, "Haven't I learned to play pretty 
 well?" 
 
146 RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 
 
 He had just won the game. " Yes," says I. 
 
 " All right," says he ; " go now, and see about my 
 carriage." He himself walked up and down the room. 
 
 Without thinking any thing, I went down to the 
 door. I didn't see any carriage at all. I started to 
 go up again. 
 
 Just as I am going up, I hear what sounds like the 
 thud of a billiard-cue. I go into the billiard-room. I 
 notice a peculiar smell. 
 
 I look around ; and there he is lying on the floor in 
 a pool of blood, with a pistol beside him. I was so 
 scared that I could not speak a word. 
 
 He keeps twitching, twitching his leg ; and stretched 
 himself a little. Then he sort of snored, and stretched 
 out his full length in such a strange way. And God 
 knows why such a sin came about, — how it was that 
 it occurred to him to ruin his own soul, — but as to 
 what he left written on this paper, I don't understand 
 it at all. Truly, you can never account for what is 
 going on in the world. 
 
 " God gave me all that a man can desire, — wealth, 
 name, intellect, noble aspirations. I wanted to enjoy 
 myself, and I trod in the mire all that was best in me. 
 I have done nothing dishonorable, I am not unfortu- 
 nate, I have not committed any crime ; but I have 
 done worse : I have destroyed my feelings, my intel- 
 lect, my youth. I became entangled in a filthy net, 
 from which I could not escape, and to which I could 
 not accustom myself. I feel that I am falling lower 
 and lower every moment, and I cannot stop my fall. 
 
 4 'And what ruined me? Was there in me some 
 strange passion which I might plead as an excuse ? No 1 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. 147 
 
 " My recollections are pleasant. One fearful mo- 
 ment of forgetfulness, which can never be erased from 
 my mind, led me to come to my senses. I shuddered 
 when I saw what a measureless abyss separated me 
 from what I desired to be, and might have been. In 
 my imagination arose the hopes, the dreams, and the 
 thoughts of my youth. 
 
 *• Where are those lofty thoughts of life, of eternit}', 
 of God, which at times filled my soul with light and 
 strength? Where that aimless power of love which 
 kindled my heart with its comforting warmth? . . . 
 
 11 But how good and happy I might have been, had I 
 trodden that path which, at the very entrance of life, 
 was pointed out to me by my fresh mind and true feel- 
 ings ! More than once did I try to go from the ruts in 
 which my life ran, into that sacred path. 
 
 •'• I said to myself, Now I will use my whole strength 
 of will ; and yet I could not do it. When I happened 
 to be alone, I felt awkward and timid. When I was 
 with others, I no longer heard the inward voice ; and I 
 fell all the time lower and lower. 
 
 " At last I came to a terrible conviction that it was 
 impossible for me to lift myself from this low plane. 
 I ceased to think about it, and I wished to forget all ; 
 but hopeless repentance worried me still more and 
 more. Then, for the first time, the thought of suicide 
 occurred to me. . . . 
 
 "I once thought that the nearness of death would 
 rouse my soul. I was mistaken. In a quarter of an 
 hour I shall be no more, yet my view has not in the 
 least changed. I see with the same eyes, I hear with 
 the same ears, I think the same thoughts ; there is the 
 same strange incoherence, unsteadiness, and lightness 
 in my thoughts." . . . 
 
ALBERT, 
 
 A STORY. 
 1857. 
 
 Five rich young men went at three o'clock in the 
 morning to a ball in Petersburg to have a good time. 
 
 Much champagne was drunk ; a majority of the 
 gentlemen were very young ; the girls were pretty ; a 
 pianist and a fiddler played indefatigably one polka 
 after another ; there was no cease to the noise of con- 
 versation and dancing. But there was a sense of awk- 
 wardness and constraint; every one felt somehow or 
 other — and this is not unusual — that all was not as 
 it should be. 
 
 There were several attempts made to make things 
 more lively, but simulated liveliness is much worse 
 than melancholy. 
 
 One of the five young men, who was more discon- 
 tented than any one else, both with himself and with 
 the others, and who had been feeling all the evening a 
 sense of disgust, took his hat, and went out noiselessly 
 on purpose, intending to go home. 
 
 There was no one in the ante-room, but in the next 
 room at the door he heard two voices disputing. The 
 young man paused, and listened. 
 
 148 
 
ALBERT. 149 
 
 " It is impossible, there are guests in there," said a 
 woman's voice. 
 
 " Come, let me in, please. I will not do any harm," 
 urged a man in a gentle voice. 
 
 "Indeed I will not without madame's permission," 
 said the woman. " Where are you going? Oh, what 
 a man you are ! " 
 
 The door was flung open, and on the threshold 
 appeared the figure of a stranger. Seeing a guest, 
 the maid ceased to detain the man ; and the stranger, 
 timidly bowing, came into the room with a somewhat 
 unsteady gait. 
 
 He was a man of medium stature, with a lank, 
 crooked back, and long dishevelled hair. He wore a 
 short paletot, and tight ragged pantaloons over coarse 
 dirty boots. His necktie, twisted into a string, ex- 
 posed his long white neck. His shirt was filthy, and 
 the sleeves came down over his lean hands. 
 
 But, notwithstanding his thoroughly emaciated body, 
 his face was attractive and fair ; and a fresh color 
 even mantled his cheeks under his thin dark beard and 
 side-whiskers. His dishevelled locks, thrown back, 
 exposed a low and remarkably pure forehead. His 
 dark, languid eyes looked unswervingly forward with 
 an expression of serenity, submission, and sweetness, 
 which made a fascinating combination with the expres- 
 sion of his fresh, curved lips, visible under his thin 
 moustache. 
 
 Advancing a few steps, he paused, turned to the 
 young man, and smiled. He found it apparently 
 rather hard to smile. But his face was so lighted up 
 by it, that the young man, without knowing why, 
 smiled in return. 
 
 "■Who is that man?" he asked of the maid in a 
 
150 ALBERT. 
 
 whisper, as the stranger walked toward the room where 
 the dancing was going on. 
 
 44 A crazy musician from the theatre," replied the 
 maid. 44 He sometimes comes to call upon madame." 
 
 44 Where are you going, Delesof ? M some one at this 
 moment called from the drawing-room. 
 
 The young man who was called Delesof returned to 
 the drawing-room. The musician was now standing 
 at the door; and, as his eyes fell on the dancers, he 
 showed by his smile and by the beating of his foot 
 how much pleasure this spectacle afforded him. 
 
 44 Won't you come, and have a dance too?" said 
 one of the guests to him. The musician bowed, and 
 looked at the hostess inquiringly. 
 
 44 Come, come. Why not, since the gentlemen have 
 invited you? " said the hostess. The musician's thin, 
 weak face suddenly assumed an expression of decision ; 
 and smiling and winking, and shuffling his feet, he 
 awkwardly, clumsily went to join the dancers in the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 In the midst of a quadrille a jolly officer, who was 
 dancing very beautifully and with great liveliness, 
 accidentally hit the musician in the back. His weak, 
 weary legs lost their equilibrium ; and the musician, 
 making ineffectual struggles to keep his balance, 
 measured his length on the floor. 
 
 Notwithstanding the sharp, hard sound made by his 
 fall, almost everybody at the first moment laughed. 
 
 But the musician did not rise. The guests grew 
 silent, even the piano ceased to sound. Delesof and 
 the hostess were the first to reach the prostrate musi- 
 cian. He was lying on his elbow, and gloomily look- 
 ing at the ground. When he had been lifted to his 
 feet, and set in a chair, he threw back his hair from 
 
ALBERT. 151 
 
 his forehead with a quick motion of his bony hand, and 
 began to smile without replying to the questions that 
 were put. 
 
 " Mr. Albe rt ! Mr. Albert ! " exclaimed the hostess. 
 44 Were you hurt? Where? Now, I told you that you 
 had better not try to dance. ... He is so weak,'* 
 she added, addressing her guests. " It takes all his 
 strength." 
 
 M Who is he?" some one asked the hostess. 
 
 " A poor man, an artist. A very nice young fellow ; 
 but he's a sad case, as you can see." 
 
 She said this without paying the least heed to the 
 musician's presence. He suddenly opened his eyes as 
 though frightened at something, collected himself, and 
 remarked to those who were standing about him, " It's 
 nothing at all," said he suddenly, arising from the 
 chair with evident effort. 
 
 And in order to show that he had suffered no injury, 
 he went into the middle of the room, and was going 
 to dance ; but he tottered, and would have fallen 
 again, had he not been supported. 
 
 Everybody felt constrained. All looked at him, and 
 no one spoke. The musician's glance again lost its 
 vivacity ; and, apparently forgetting that any one was 
 looking, he put his hand to his knee. Suddenly he 
 raised his head, advanced one faltering foot, and, 
 with the same awkward gesture as before, tossed back 
 his hair, and went to a violin-case, and took out the 
 instrument. 
 
 u It was nothing at all," said he again, waving the 
 violin. " Gentlemen, we will have a little music." 
 
 44 What a strange face!" said the guests among 
 themselves. 
 
 44 Maybe there is great talent lurking in that unhappy 
 creature," said one of them. 
 
152 ALBERT. 
 
 "Yes: it's a sad case, — a sad case," said an- 
 other. 
 
 M What a lovely face! . . . There is something 
 extraordinary about it," said Delesof. M Let us have 
 a look at him." . . . 
 
ALBERT. 153 
 
 II. 
 
 Albert by this time, not paying attention to any 
 one, had raised his violin to his shoulder, and was 
 slowly crossing over to the piano, and tuning his 
 instrument. His lips were drawn into an expression 
 of indifference, his eyes were almost shut ; but his 
 lank, bony back, his long white neck, his crooked 
 legs, and disorderly black hair presented a strange but 
 somehow not entirely ridiculous appearance. After he 
 had tuned his violin, he struck a quick chord, and, 
 throwing back his head, turned to the pianist who was 
 waiting to accompany him. *' Melancholic, G sJiarp,'* 
 he said, turning to the pianist with a peremptory ges- 
 ture. And immediately after, as though in apology for 
 his peremptory gesture, he smiled sweetly, and with 
 the same smile turned to his audience again. 
 
 Tossing back his hair with the hand that held the 
 bow, Albert stood at one side of the piano, and, with 
 a flowing motion of the bow, touched the strings. 
 Through the room there swept a pure, harmonious 
 sound, which instantly brought absolute silence. 
 
 At first, it was as though a ray of unexpectedly 
 brilliant light had flashed across the inner world of 
 each hearer's consciousness ; and the notes of the 
 theme immediately followed, pouring forth abundant 
 and beautiful. 
 
 Not one discordant or imperfect note distracted the 
 attention* of the listeners. All the tones were clear, 
 
154 ALBERT. 
 
 beautiful, and fuH of meaning. All silently, with 
 trembling expectation, followed the development of 
 
 the theme. From a state of tedium, of noisy gayety, 
 or of deep drowsiness, into which these people had 
 fallen, they were suddenly transported to a world 
 whose existence they had forgotten. 
 
 In one instant there arose in their souls, now a senti- 
 ment as though they were contemplating the past, now 
 of passionate remembrance of some happiness, now the 
 boundless longing for power and glory, now the feelings 
 of humility, of unsatisfied love, and of melancholy. 
 
 Now bitter-sweet, now vehemently despairing, the 
 notes, freety intermingling, poured forth and poured 
 forth, so sweetly, so powerfully, and so spontaneously, 
 that it was not so much that sounds were heard, as 
 that some sort of beautiful stream of poetry, long 
 known, but now for the first time expressed, gushed 
 through the soul. 
 
 At each note that he played, Albert grew taller and 
 taller. At a little distance, he had no appearance of 
 being either crippled or peculiar. Pressing the violin 
 to his chin, and with an expression of listening with 
 passionate attention to the tones that he produced, he 
 convulsively moved his feet. Now he straightened 
 himself up to his full height, now thoughtfully leaned 
 forward. 
 
 His left hand, curving over spasmodically on the 
 strings, seemed as though it had swooned in its posi- 
 tion, while it was only the bony fingers that changed 
 about spasmodically ; the right hand moved smoothly, 
 gracefully, without effort. 
 
 His face shone with complete, enthusiastic delight ; 
 his eyes gleamed with a radiant, steely light ; his nos- 
 trils quivered, his red lips were parted in rapture. 
 
ALBERT. 155 
 
 Sometimes his head bent down closer to his violin, 
 his eyes almost closed, and his face, half shaded by 
 his long locks, lighted up with a smile of genuine bliss- 
 fulness. Sometimes he quickly straightened himself 
 up, changed from one leg to the other, and his pure 
 forehead, and the radiant look which he threw around 
 the room, were alive with pride, greatness, and the 
 consciousness of power. Once the pianist made a 
 mistake, and struck a false chord. Physical pain was 
 apparent in the whole form and face of the musician. 
 He paused for a second, and with an expression of 
 childish 'anger stamped his foot, and cried, "Moll, ce 
 moll I" The pianist corrected his mistake; Albert 
 closed his eyes, smiled, and, again forgetting himself 
 and everybody else, gave himself up with beatitude to 
 his work. Everybody who was in the room while 
 Albert was playing preserved an attentive silence, and 
 seemed to live and breathe only in the music. 
 
 The gay officer sat motionless in a chair by the win- 
 dow, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, and drawing 
 long heavy sighs. The girls, awed by the universal 
 silence, sat along by the walls, only occasionally ex- 
 changing glances expressive of satisfaction or per- 
 plexity. 
 
 The fat smiling face of the hostess was radiant with 
 happiness. The pianist kept his eyes fixed on Albert's 
 face, and while his whole figure from head to foot 
 showed his solicitude lest he should make some mistake, 
 he did his best to follow him. One of the guests, who 
 had been drinking more heavily than the rest, lay at 
 full length on the sofa, and tried not to move lest he 
 should betray his emotion. Delesof experienced an 
 unusual sensation. It seemed as though an icy band, 
 now contracting, now expanding, were pressed upon his 
 
15G ALlii:i:r. 
 
 head. The roots of his hair seemed endued with con- 
 sciousness ; the cold shivers ran down his back, some- 
 thing rose higher and higher in his throat, his nose and 
 palate were full of little needles, and the tears stole 
 down his cheeks. 
 
 He shook himself, tried to swallow them back and 
 wipe them away without attracting attention, but fresh 
 tcai-s followed and streamed down his face. By some 
 sort of strange association of impressions, the first 
 tones of Albert's violin carried Delesof back to his 
 early youth. 
 
 Old before his time, weary of life, a broken man, he 
 suddenly felt as though he were a boy of seventeen 
 again, self-satisfied and handsome, blissfully dull, un- 
 consciously happy. He remembered his first love for 
 his cousin who wore a pink dress, he remembered his 
 first confession of it in the linden alley ; he remem- 
 bered the warmth and the inexpressible charm of the 
 fortuitous kiss ; he remembered the immensity and 
 enigmatical mystery of Nature as it surrounded them 
 then. 
 
 In his imagination as it went back in its flight, she 
 gleamed in a mist of indefinite hopes, of incomprehen- 
 sible desires, and the indubitable faith in the possibility 
 of impossible happiness. All the priceless moments of 
 that time, one after the other, arose before him, not 
 like unmeaning iustauts of the fleeting present, but like 
 the immutable, full-formed, reproachful images of the 
 past. 
 
 He contemplated them with rapture, and wept, — 
 wept not because the time had passed and he might have 
 spent it more profitably (if that time had been given to 
 him again he would not have spent it any more profit- 
 ably), but he wept because it had passed and would 
 
 A* 
 
ALBERT. 157 
 
 never return^ His recollections evolved themselves 
 without effort, and Albert's violin was their mouth- 
 piece. It said, " They have passed, forever passed, 
 the days of thy strength, of love, and of happiness ; 
 passed forever, and never will return. Weep for 
 them, shed all thy tears, let thy life pass in tears 
 for these days ; this is the only and best happiness 
 that remains to thee. ,, 
 
 At the end of the next variation, Albert's face grew 
 serene, his eyes flushed, great clear drops of sweat 
 poured down his cheeks. The veins swelled on his 
 forehead ; his whole body swayed more and more ; his 
 pale lips were parted, and his whole figure expressed 
 an enthusiastic craving for enjo}'ment. Despairingly 
 swaying with his whole body, and throwing back his 
 hair, he laid down his violin, and with a smile of proud 
 satisfaction and happiness gazed at the bystanders. 
 Then his back assumed its ordinary curve, his head 
 sank, his lips grew set, his eyes lost their fire ; and as 
 though he were ashamed of himself, timidly glancing 
 round, and stumbling, he went into the next room. 
 
158 ALBERT. 
 
 III. 
 
 Something strange came over all the audience, and 
 something strange was noticeable in the dead silence 
 that succeeded Albert's playing. It was as though 
 each desired, and yet dared not, to acknowledge the 
 meaning of it all. 
 
 What did it mean, — this brightly lighted, warm 
 room, these brilliant women, the dawn just appearing 
 at the windows, these hurrying pulses, and the pure 
 impressions made by the fleeting tones of music? But 
 no one ventured to acknowledge the meaning of it all ; 
 on the contrary, almost all, feeling incapable of throw- 
 ing themselves completely under the influence of what 
 the new impression concealed from them, rebelled 
 against it. 
 
 " Well, now, he plays might}* well," said the officer. 
 
 u Wonderfully," replied Delesof, stealthily wiping 
 his cheek with his steeve. 
 
 M One thing sure, it's time to be going, gentlemen,' ' 
 said the gentleman who had been lying on the sofa, 
 straightening himself up a little. " We'll have to give 
 him something, gentlemen. Let us make a collection." 
 
 At this time, Albert was sitting alone in the next 
 room, on the sofa. As he supported himself with his 
 elbows on his bony knees, he smoothed his face with his 
 dirty, sweaty hand, tossed back his hair, and smiled at 
 his own happy thoughts. 
 
 A large collection was taken up, and Delesof was 
 
ALBERT. 159 
 
 chosen to present it. Aside from this, Delesof, who 
 had been so keenly and unwontedly affected by the 
 music, had conceived the thought of conferring some 
 benefit upon this man. 
 
 It came into his head to take him home with him, 
 to feed him, to establish him somewhere, — in other 
 words, to lift him from his vile position. 
 
 14 Well, are you tired? " asked Delesof, approaching 
 him. Albert replied with a smile. " You have crea- 
 tive talent ; you ought seriously to devote yourself to 
 music, to play in public." 
 
 " I should like to have something to drink," ex- 
 claimed Albert, as though suddenly waking up. 
 
 Delesof brought him some wine, and the musician 
 greedily drained two glasses. 
 
 " What splendid wine ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "What a lovely thing that Melancholie is!" said 
 Delesof. 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes," replied Albert with a smile. " But 
 pardon me, I do not know with whom I have the honor 
 to be talking ; maybe you are a count or a prince. 
 Couldn't you let me have a little money? " He paused 
 for a moment. " I have nothing — I am a poor man : 
 I couldn't pay it back to you." 
 
 Delesof flushed, grew embarrassed, and hastened to 
 hand the musician the money that had been collected 
 for him. 
 
 "Very much obliged to you," said Albert, seizing 
 the money. " Now let us have some more music; I 
 will play for 3-ou as much as yon wish. Only let me 
 have something to drink, something to drink," he 
 repeated, as he started to his feet. 
 
 Delesof gave him some more wine, and asked him to 
 sit down hy him. 
 
ICO ALBERT. 
 
 M Pardon me if I am frank with yon," said Delesof. 
 u Your talent has Interested me so much. It seems to 
 me that you are in a wretched position." 
 
 Albert glanced now at Delesof, now at the hostess, 
 who just then came into the room. 
 
 "Permit me to help you," continued Delesof. " If 
 you need any thing, then 1 should be very glad if you 
 would come and stay with me for a while. I live 
 alone, and maybe I could be of some service to you." 
 
 Albert smiled, and made no reply. 
 
 "Why don't you thank him?" said the hostess. 
 " It seems to me that this would be a capital thing for 
 you. — Only I would not advise you," she continued, 
 turning to Delesof, and shaking her head warningly. 
 
 "Very much obliged to you," said Albert, seizing 
 Delesof s hand with both his moist ones. " Only now 
 let us have some music, please." 
 
 But the rest of the guests were already making 
 their preparations to depart; and as Albert did not 
 address them, they came out into the ante-room. 
 
 Albert bade the hostess farewell ; and having taken 
 bis worn hat with wide brim, and a last summer's alma 
 iriva, which composed his only protection against the 
 winter, he went with Delesof down the steps. 
 
 As soon as Delesof took his seat in his carriage 
 with his new friend, and became conscious of that un- 
 pleasant odor of intoxication and lilthiness exhaled by 
 the musician, he began to repent of the step that he had 
 taken, and to curse himself for his childish softness of 
 heart and lack of reason. Moreover, all that Albert 
 said was so foolish and in such bad taste, and he 
 seemed so near a sudden state of beastly intoxication, 
 that Delesof was disgusted. " What shall I do with 
 him ? " he asked himself. 
 
ALBERT. 161 
 
 After they had been driving for a quarter of an hour, 
 Albert relapsed into silence, took off his hat, and laid 
 it on his knee, then threw himself into a corner of the 
 carriage, and began to snore. . . . The wheels crunched 
 monotonously over the frozen snow, the feeble light of 
 dawn scarcely made its way through the frosty win- 
 dows. 
 
 Delesof glanced at his companion. His long bod}', 
 wrapped in his mantle, lay almost lifeless near him. 
 It seemed to him that a long head with large black 
 nose was swaying on his trunk ; but on examining 
 more closely he perceived that what he took to be nose 
 and face was the man's hair, and that his actual face 
 was lower down. 
 
 He bent over, and studied the features of Albert's 
 face. Then the beauty of his brow and of his peace- 
 fully closed mouth once more charmed him. Under 
 the influence of nervous excitement caused by the 
 sleepless hours of the long night and the music, 
 Delesof, as he looked at that face, was once more 
 carried back to the blessed world of which he had 
 caught a glimpse once before that night ; again he 
 remembered the happy and magnanimous time of his 
 youth, and he ceased to repent of his rashness. At 
 that moment he loved Albert truly and warmly, and 
 firmly resolved to be a benefactor to him. 
 
162 ALBERT. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The next morning when Dclesof was awakened to 
 go to his office, he saw, with an unpleasant feeling of 
 surprise, his old screen, his old servant, and his clock 
 on the table. 
 
 " What did I expect to see if not the usual objects 
 that surround me? " he asked himself. 
 
 Then he recollected the musician's black eyes and 
 happy smile ; the motive of the Melancholie and all the 
 strange experiences of the night came back into his 
 consciousness. It was never his way, however, to 
 reconsider whether he had done wisely or foolishly in 
 taking the musician home with him. After he had 
 dressed, he carefully laid out his plans for the day : he 
 took some paper, wrote out some necessary directions 
 for the house, and hastily put on his cloak and galoshes. 
 
 As he went by the dining-room he glanced in at the 
 door. Albert, with his face buried in the pillow and 
 lying at full length in his dirty, tattered shirt, was 
 buried in the profoundest slumber on the saffron sofa, 
 where in absolute unconsciousness he had been laid the 
 night before. 
 
 Delesof felt that something was not right: it dis- 
 turbed him. " Please go for me to Boriuzovsky, and 
 borrow his violin for a day or two," said he to his 
 man ; u and when he wakes up, bring him some coffee, 
 and get him some clean linen and some old suit or 
 other of mine. Fix him up as well as you can, please." 
 
ALBERT. 163 
 
 When he returned home in the afternoon, Delesof, 
 to his surprise, found that Albert was not there. 
 
 " Where is he? " he asked of his man. 
 
 " He went out immediately after dinner," replied the 
 servant. "He took the violin, and went out, saying 
 that he would be back again in an hour ; but since that 
 time we have not seen him." 
 
 "Ta, ta! how provoking!" said Delesof. "Why 
 did yon let him go, Zakhar? " 
 
 Zakhar was a Petersburg lackey, who had been in 
 Delesof's service for eight years. Delesof, as a single 
 young bachelor, could not help intrusting him with 
 his plans ; and he liked to get his judgment in regard 
 to each of. his undertakings. 
 
 "How should I have ventured to detain him?" 
 replied Zakh&r, playing with his watch-charms. " If 
 you had intimated, Dmitri Ivanovitch, that you wished 
 me to keep him here, I might have kept him at home. 
 But you only spoke of his wardrobe." 
 
 " Ta ! how vexatious ! Well, what has he been doing 
 while I was out?" 
 
 Zakhar smiled. 
 
 " Indeed, he's a real artist, as you may say, Dmitri 
 Ivanovitch. As soon as he woke up he asked for some 
 madeira : then he began to keep the cook and me 
 pretty bus}-. Such an absurd . . . However, he's a 
 very interesting character. I brought him some tea, 
 got some dinner ready for him ; but he would not eat 
 alone, so he asked me to sit down with him. But 
 when he began to play on the fiddle, then I knew that 
 you would not find many such artists at Izler's. One 
 might well keep such a man. When he played 'Down 
 the Little Mother Volga ' for us, why, it was enough to 
 make a man weep. It was too good for any thing ! 
 
1C4 ALBERT. 
 
 The people from all the floors came down into our 
 entry to listen." 
 
 44 Well, did you give him some clothes?" asked the 
 barin. 
 
 44 Certainly I did : I gave him your dress-shirt, and 
 I put on him an overcoat of mine. You want to help 
 such a man as that, he's a fine fellow." Zakhtir 
 smiled. u lie asked me what rank you were, and if 
 you had had important acquaintances, and how many 
 souls of peasantry you had." 
 
 M Very good : but now we must send and find him ; 
 and henceforth don't give him any thing to drink, 
 otherwise you'll do him more harm than good." 
 
 44 That is true," said Zakhar in assent. 44 He 
 doesn't seem in very robust health: we used to have 
 an overseer who, like him "... 
 
 Delesof, who had already long ago heard the story 
 of the drunken overseer, did not give Zakhar time to 
 finish, but bade him make every thing ready for the 
 night, and then go out and bring the musician back. 
 
 He threw himself down on his bed, and put out the 
 candle ; but it was long before he fell asleep, for 
 thinking about Albert. 
 
 44 This may seem strange to some of my friends," 
 said Delesof to himself, 4t but how seldom it is that 
 I can do any thing for any one beside myself ! and I 
 ought to thank God for a chance when one presents 
 itself. I will not send him away. I will do every 
 thing, at least every thing that I can, to help him. 
 Maybe he is not absolutely crazy, but only inclined to 
 get drunk. It certainly will not cost me very much. 
 Where one is, there is always enough to satisfy two. 
 Let him live with me a while, and then we will find him 
 a place, or get him up a concert ; we'll help him off the 
 
ALBERT. 165 
 
 *hoals, and then there will be time enough to see what 
 •vill come of it." An agreeable sense of self-satisfac- 
 tion came over him after making this resolution. 
 
 " Certainly I am not a bad man : I might say I am 
 far from being a bad man," he thought. "I might 
 go so far as to say that I am a good man, when I 
 compare nryself with others." 
 
 He was just dropping off to sleep when the sound of 
 opening doors, and steps in the ante-room, roused him 
 again. " Well, shall I treat him rather severely? " he 
 asked himself ; " I suppose that is best, and I ought to 
 doit." 
 
 He rang. 
 
 " Well, did you find him? " he asked of Zakhar, who 
 answered his call. 
 
 " He's a poor, wretched fellow, Dmitri Ivanovitch," 
 said Zakhar, shaking his head significantly, and closing 
 his eyes. 
 
 41 What! is he drunk?" 
 
 "Very weak." 
 
 " Had he the violin with him? " 
 
 u I brought it : the lady gave it to me." 
 
 " All right. Now please don't bring him to me 
 to-night : let him sleep it off ; and to-morrow don't 
 under any circumstances let him out of the house." 
 
 But before Zakhar had time to leave the room, 
 Albert came in. 
 
1G6 ALBERT. 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you've gone to bed at 
 this time," said Albert with a smile. "I was there 
 ■gain, at Anna Ivanovna's. I spent a very pleasant 
 evening. We had music, told stories ; there was a very 
 pleasant company there. Please let me have a glass 
 of something to drink," he added, seizing a carafe of 
 water that stood on the table, " only not water." 
 
 Albert was just as he had been the night before, — 
 the same lovely smiling eyes and lips,, the same fresh 
 inspired brow, and weak features. Zakhar's overcoat 
 fitted him as though it had been made for him, and the 
 clean, tall, stiffly-starched collar of the dress-shirt pic- 
 turesquely fitted around his delicate white neck, giving 
 him a peculiarly childlike and innocent appearance. 
 
 He sat down on Delesof's bed, smiling with pleasure 
 and gratitude, and looked at him without speaking. 
 Delesof gazed into Albert's eyes, and suddenly felt 
 himself once under the sway of that smile. All desire 
 for sleep vanished from him, he forgot his resolution 
 to be stern : on the contraiy, he felt like having a gay 
 time, to hear some music, and to talk confidentially 
 with Albert till morning. Delesof bade Zakhar bring 
 a bottle of wine, cigarettes, and the violin. 
 
 "This is excellent," said Albert. M It's early yet, 
 we'll have a little music. I will play whatever you 
 like." 
 
 Zakhar, with evident satisfaction, brought a bottle 
 
ALBERT. 107 
 
 of Lafitte, two glasses, some mild cigarettes such as 
 Albert smoked, and the violin. But, instead of going 
 off to bed as his barin bade him, he lighted a cigar, 
 and sat down in the next room. 
 
 " Let us talk instead," said Delesof to the musician, 
 who was beginning to tune the violin. 
 
 Albert sat down submissively on the bed, and smiled 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said he, suddenly striking his forehead 
 with his hand, and putting on an expression of anxious 
 curiosity. The expression of his face always foretold 
 what he was going to say. M I wanted to ask you," 
 — he hesitated a little, — "that gentleman who was 
 there with you last evening. . . . You called him N. 
 Was he the son of the celebrated N.?" 
 
 " His own son," replied Delesof, not understanding 
 at all what Albert could find of interest in him. 
 
 " Indeed ! " he exclaimed, smiling with satisfaction. 
 " I instantly noticed that there was something pecul- 
 iarly aristocratic in his manners. I love aristocrats. 
 There is something splendid and elegant about an 
 aristocrat. And that officer who danced so beauti- 
 fully," he went on to ask. " He also pleased me very 
 much, he was so gay and noble looking. It seems he 
 is called Adjutant N. N." 
 
 "Who?" asked Delesof . 
 
 "The one who ran into me when we were dancing. 
 He must be a splendid man." 
 
 " No, he is a silly fellow," replied Delesof. 
 
 "Oh, no! it can't be," rejoined Albert hotly. 
 "There's something very, very pleasant about him. 
 And he's a fine musician," added Albert. "He 
 played something from an opera. It's a long time 
 since I have seen any one who pleased me so much." 
 
168 ALBERT. 
 
 44 Yes, he plays very well ; but I don't like his play- 
 ing," said Delesof, anxious to bring his companion to 
 talk about music. "He does not understand classic 
 music, but only Donizetti and Bellini ; and that's no 
 music, you know. You agree with me, don't you? " 
 
 "Oh, no, no! Pardon me," replied Albert with a 
 gentle expression of vindication. " The old music is 
 music ; but modern music is music too. And in the 
 modern music there are extraordinarily beautiful things. 
 Now, 4 Somnambula,' and the finale of 4 Lucia,' and 
 Chopin, and 4 Robert' 1 I often think," — he hesi- 
 tated, apparently collecting his thoughts, — "that if 
 Beethoven were alive, he would weep tears of joy to 
 hear 4 Somnambula.' It's so beautiful all through. I 
 heard 4 Somnambula ' first when Viardot and Rubini 
 were here. That was something worth while," he 
 said, with shining eyes, and making a gesture with 
 both hands, as though he were casting something from 
 his breast. "I'd give a good deal, but it would be 
 impossible, to bring it back." 
 
 44 Well, but how do you like the opera nowadays? " 
 asked Delesof. 
 
 " Bosio is good, very good," was his reply, " ex- 
 quisite beyond words ; but she does not touch me 
 here," he said, pointing to his sunken chest. "A 
 singer must have passion, and she hasn't any. She is 
 enjoyable, but she doesn't torture you." 
 
 44 Well, how about Lablache? " 
 
 44 1 heard him in Paris, in 4 The Barber of Seville.' 
 Then he was the only one, but now he is old. He 
 can't be an artist, he is old." 
 
 44 Well, supposing he is old, still he is fine in mor- 
 ceaux cT ensemble ," said Delesof, still speaking of 
 Lablache. 
 
ALBERT. 169 
 
 " Who said that he was old? " said Albert severely. 
 " He can't be old. The artist can never be old. Much 
 is needed in an artist, but fire most of all," he declared 
 with glistening eyes, and raising both hands in the air. 
 And, indeed, a terrible inner fire seemed to glow 
 throughout his whole frame. " Ah, my God!" he 
 exclaimed suddenly. " You don't know Petrof, do 
 you, — Petrof, the artist? " 
 
 " No, I don't know him," replied Delesof with a 
 smile. 
 
 r * How I wish that 3'ou and he might become ac- 
 quainted Y You would enjoy talking with him. How 
 he does understand art ! He and I often used to meet 
 at Anna Ivanovna's, but now she is vexed with him 
 for some reason or other. But I really wish that you 
 might make his acquaintance. He has great, great 
 talent." 
 
 " Oh ! Does he paint pictures? " asked Delesof. 
 
 "I don't know. No, I think not; but he was an 
 artist of the Academy. What thoughts he had ! When- 
 ever he talks, it is wonderful. Oh, Petrof has great 
 talent, only he leads a very gay life ! . . . It's too 
 bad," said Albert with a smile. The next moment he 
 got up from the bed, took the violin, and began to 
 play. 
 
 "Have you been at the opera lately?" asked 
 Delesof. 
 
 Albert looked round, and sighed. 
 
 " Ah, I have not been able to ! " he said, clutching 
 his head. Again he sat down by Delesof. "I will 
 tell you," he went on to say, almost in a whisper. " I 
 can't go : I can't play there. I have nothing, nothing 
 at all, — no clothes, no home, no violin. It's a 
 wretched life, — a wretched life!" he repeated the 
 
170 ALBERT. 
 
 phrase. " Yes, and why have I got into such a state? 
 Wiry, indeed? It ought not to have been," said he, 
 smiling. " Akh I Don Juan." 
 
 And he struck his head. 
 
 u Now let us have something to eat," said Delesof. 
 
 Albert, without replying, sprang up, seized the 
 violin, and began to play the finale of the first act of 
 41 Don Juan," accompanying it with a description 
 of the scene in the opera. 
 
 Delesof felt the hair stand up on his head, when he 
 played the voice of the dying commander. 
 
 "No, I cannot play to-night," said Albert, laying 
 down the instrument. " I have been drinking too 
 much." But immediately after he went to the table, 
 poured out a brimming glass of wine, drank it at one 
 gulp, and again sat down on the bed near Delesof. 
 
 Delesof looked steadily at Albert. The latter oc- 
 casionally smiled, and Delesof returned his smile. 
 Neither of them spoke, but the glance and smile 
 brought them close together into a reciprocity of affec- 
 tion. Delesof felt that he was growing constantly 
 fonder and fonder of this man, and he experienced 
 an inexpressible pleasure. 
 
 "Were you ever in love?" he asked suddenly. 
 Albert remained sunk in thought for a few seconds, 
 then his face lighted up with a melancholy smile. He 
 bent over toward Delesof, and gazed straight into his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Why did you ask me that question?" he whis- 
 pered. " But I will tell you all about it. I like you," 
 he added, after a few moments of thought, and glan- 
 cing around. " I will not deceive you, I will tell you 
 all, just as it was, from the beginning." He paused, 
 and his eyes took on a strange wild appearance. 
 
ALBERT. 171 
 
 " You know that I am weak in judgment," he said 
 suddenly. " Yes, yes," he continued. " Anna Ivan- 
 ovna has told you about it. She tells everybody that 
 I am crazy. It isn't true, she says it for a joke ; she 
 is a good woman, but I really have not been quite well 
 for some time." Albert paused again, and stood up, 
 gazing with wide-opened eyes at the dark door. M You 
 asked me if I had ever been in love. Yes, I have been 
 in love," he whispered, raising his brows. " That 
 happened long ago ; it was at a time when I still had 
 a place at the theatre. I went to play second violin 
 at the opera, and she came into a parquet box at the 
 left." 
 
 Albert stood up, and bent over to Delesof's ear. 
 " But no," said he, " why should I mention her name? 
 You probably know her, eveiybody knows her. I said 
 nothing, but simply looked at her : I knew that I was 
 a poor artist, and she an aristocratic lady. I knew 
 that very well. I only looked at her, and had no 
 thoughts." 
 
 Albert paused for a moment, as though making sure 
 of his recollections. 
 
 " How it happened I know not, but I was invited 
 once to accompany her on my violin. . . . Now I was 
 only a poor artist ! " he repeated, shaking his head and 
 smiling. " But no, I cannot tell you, I cannot! " he 
 exclaimed, again clutching his head. " How happy I 
 was ! " 
 
 "What? did you go to her house often?" asked 
 Delesof. 
 
 " Once, only once. . . . But it was my own fault; 
 I wasn't in my right mind. I was a poor artist, and 
 she an aristocratic lady. I ought not to have spoken 
 to her. But I lost my senses, I committed a folly. 
 
172 ALBERT. 
 
 Petrof told mc the truth : 4 It would have been better 
 only to hove seeu her at the theatre.' " 
 
 " What did you do? " asked Delesof. 
 
 M Ah ! wait, wait, I eauuot tell you that." 
 
 And, hiding his face iu his hauds, he said nothing 
 for some time. 
 
 " I was late at the orchestra. Petrof and I had 
 been drinking that evening, and I was excited. She 
 was sitting in her box, and talking with some general. 
 I don't know who that general was. She was sitting 
 at the very edge of the box, with her arm resting on 
 the rim. She wore a white dress, with pearls on her 
 neck. She was talking with him, but she looked at 
 mc. Twice she looked at me. She had arranged her 
 hair in such a becoming way ! I stopped playing, and 
 stood near the bass, and gazed at her. Then, for the 
 first time, something strange took place in me. She 
 smiled on the general, but she looked at me. I felt 
 certain that she was talking about me ; and suddenly I 
 seemed to be not in my place in the orchestra, but was 
 standing in her box, and seizing her hand iu that place. 
 What was the meaning of that? •■ asked Albert, after 
 a moment's silence. 
 
 " A powerful imagination," said Delesof. 
 
 " No, no, ... I cannot tell," said Albert frown- 
 ing. " Even then I was poor. I hadn't any room ; 
 and when I went to the theatre, I sometimes used to 
 sleep there." 
 
 " What, in the theatre? " asked Delesof. 
 
 " Ah ! I am not afraid of these stupid things. 
 Ah ! just wait a moment. As soon as everybody 
 was gone, I went to that box where she had been 
 sitting, and slept there. That was my only pleasure. 
 How many nights I spent there ! Only once again did 
 
ALBERT. 173 
 
 I have that experience. At night many things seemed 
 to come to me. But I cannot tell you much about 
 them." Albert contracted his brows, and looked at 
 Delesof. " What did it mean ? " he asked. 
 
 u It was strange," replied the other. 
 
 " No, wait, wait!" he bent over to his ear, and 
 said in a whisper, — 
 
 " I kissed her hand, wept there before her, and 
 said many things to her. I heard the fragrance of 
 her sighs, I heard her voice. She said many things 
 to me that one night. Then I took my violin, and 
 began to play softly. And I played beautifully. But 
 it became terrible to me. I am not afraid of such 
 stupid things, and I don't believe in them, but my 
 head felt terribly," he said, smiling sweetly, and mov- 
 ing his hand over his forehead. " It seemed terrible to 
 me on account of nry poor mind ; something happened 
 in my head. Maybe it was nothing ; what do you 
 think?" 
 
 Neither spoke for several minutes. 
 
 11 Und wenn die Wolken sie verhullen, 
 Die Sonne bleibt doch ewig klar. 1 
 
 hummed Albert, smiling gently. "That is true, isn't 
 it?" he asked. 
 
 " Ich audi habe gelebt and genossen." 2 
 
 " Ah, old man Petrof ! how this would have made 
 things clear to you ! " 
 
 Delesof, in silence and with dismay, looked at his 
 companion's excited and colorless face. 
 
 "Do you know the Juristen waltzes? " suddenly 
 
 1 E'en though the clouds may veil it, 
 
 The sun shines ever clear. 
 
 2 I also have lived and rejoiced. 
 
174 ALBERT. 
 
 asked AUiert in a loud voice, and without waiting for 
 an answer, jumped up, seized the violin, and began to 
 play tlic waltz. In absolute self-forgetfulness, and 
 evidently imagining that a whole orchestra was play- 
 ing for him, Albert smiled, began to dance, to shuffle 
 his feet, and to play admirably. 
 
 "Hey, we will have a good time!*' he exclaimed, 
 as he ended, and waved his violin. " I am going,*' 
 said he, after sitting down in silence for a little. 
 44 Won't you come along too? " 
 
 " Where? " asked Delesof in surprise. 
 
 "Let us go to Anna Ivanovua's again. It's gay 
 there, — bustle, people, music." 
 
 Delesof for a moment was almost persuaded. How- 
 ever, coming to his senses, he promised Albert that 
 he would go with him the next day. 
 
 " I should like to go this minute." 
 
 44 Indeed, I wouldn't go." 
 
 Albert sighed, and laid down the violin. 
 
 44 Shall I stay, then? " He looked over at the table, 
 but the wine was gone ; and so, wishing him a good- 
 night, he left the room. 
 
 Delesof rang. " Look here," said he to Zakh&r, 
 44 don't let Mr. Albert go anywhere without asking me 
 about it first." 
 
ALBERT. 175 
 
 VI. 
 
 The next day was a holiday. Delesof, on waking, 
 sat in his parlor, drinking his coffee and reading a 
 book. Albeit, who was in the next room, had not yet 
 moved. Zakhar discreetly opened the door, and looked 
 into the dining-room. 
 
 "Would you believe it, Dmitri Ivanovitch, there he 
 lies asleep on the bare sofa. I would not send him 
 away for any thing, God knows. He's like a little 
 child. Indeed, he's an artist ! " 
 
 At twelve o'clock, there was a sound of yawning 
 and coughing on the other side of the door. 
 
 Zakhar again crept into the dining-room ; and the 
 barin heard his wheedling voice, and Albert's gentle, 
 beseeching voice. 
 
 "Well, how is he?" asked Delesof, when Zakhar 
 came out. 
 
 " He feels blue, Dmitri Ivanovitch. He doesn't 
 want to get dressed. He's so cross. All he asks for 
 is something to drink." 
 
 "Now, if we are to get hold of him, we must 
 strengthen his character," said Delesof to himself. 
 And, forbidding Zakhar to give him any wine, he 
 again devoted himself to his book ; in spite of himself, 
 however, listening all the time for developments in the 
 dining-room. 
 
 But there was no movement there, only occasionally 
 were heard a heavy chest cough and spitting. Two 
 
176 ALBERT. 
 
 hours passed. Delesof, after dressing to go out, 
 resolved to look in upon his guest. Albert was sit- 
 ting motionless at the window, leaning his head on 
 his hands. 
 
 He looked round. His face was sallow, morose, 
 and not only melancholy but deeply unhappy. He 
 tried to welcome his host with a smile, but his face 
 assumed a still more woe-begone expression. It 
 seemed as though he were on the point of tears. 
 
 With effort he stood up and bowed. u If I might 
 have just a little glass of simple vodka," he exclaimed 
 with a supplicating expression. " I am so weak. If 
 you please ! " 
 
 " Coffee will be more strengthening, I would advise 
 you." 
 
 Albert's face lost its childish expression ; he gazed 
 coldly, sadly, out of the window, and fell back into 
 the chair. 
 
 " Wouldn't 3'ou like some breakfast? M 
 
 14 No, thank you, I haven't any appetite." 
 
 M If you want to play on the violin, you will not 
 disturb me," said Delesof, laying the instrument on 
 the table. Albert looked at the violin with a con- 
 temptuous smile. 
 
 "No, I am too weak, I cannot play," he said, and 
 pushed the instrument from him. 
 
 After that, in reply to all Delesof s propositions to 
 go to walk, to go to the theatre in the evening, or any 
 thing else, he only shook his head mournfully, and 
 refused to speak. 
 
 Delesof went out, made a few calls, dined out, and 
 before the theatre hour, he returned to his rooms to 
 change his attire and find out how the musician was 
 getting along. 
 
ALBERT. Ill 
 
 Albert was sitting in the dark ante-room, and, with 
 his head resting on his hand, was gazing at the heated 
 stove. He was neatly dressed, washed and combed ; 
 but his eyes were sad and vacant, and his whole form 
 expressed even more weakness and debility than in 
 the morning. 
 
 " Well, have you had dinner, Mr. Albert? " asked 
 Delesof. 
 
 Albert nodded his head, and, after looking with a 
 terrified expression at Delesof, dropped his eyes. It 
 made Delesof feel uncomfortable. 
 
 "I have been talking to-day with a manager," said 
 he, also dropping his eyes. u He would be very glad 
 to make terms with you, if you would like to accept 
 an engagement." 
 
 "I thank you, but I cannot play," said Albert, 
 almost in a whisper ; and he went into his room, and 
 closed the door as softly as possible. After a few 
 minutes, lifting the latch as softly as possible, he 
 came out of the room, bringing the violin. Casting a 
 sharp, angry look at Delesof, he laid the instrument on 
 the table, and again disappeared. 
 
 Delesof shrugged his shoulders, and smiled. 
 
 " What am I to do now? Wherein am I to blame ? " 
 he asked himself. 
 
 " Well, how is the musician? " was his first question 
 when he returned home late that evening. 
 
 " Bad," was Zakhar's short and ringing reply. 
 M He sighs all the time, and coughs, and says nothing 
 at all, only he has asked for vodka four or five times, 
 and once I gave him some. How can we avoid killing 
 him this way, Dmitri Ivanovitch? That was the way 
 the overseer" ... 
 
 " Well, hasn't he played on the fiddle? " 
 
178 ALBERT. 
 
 11 Didn't even touch it. I took it to him, twice — 
 Well, he took it up slowly, and carried it out," said 
 Zakhar with a smile. " Do you still bid me refuse him 
 something to drink? " 
 
 " Don't give him any thing to-day ; we'll see what'll 
 come of it. What is he doing now? " 
 
 11 He has shut himself into the parlor." 
 
 Delesof went into his library, took down a few 
 French books, and the Testament in German. "Put 
 these books to-morrow in his room ; and look out, don't 
 let him get away," said he to Zakhar. 
 
 The next morning Zakhar informed his barin that the 
 musician had not slept a wink all night. »« He kept 
 walking up and down his rooms, and going to the side- 
 board to try to open the cupboard and door ; but every 
 thing, in spite of his efforts, remained locked." 
 
 Zakhar told how, while he was going to sleep, he 
 heard Albert muttering to himself in the darkness and 
 gesticulating. 
 
 Each day Albert grew more gloomy and taciturn. It 
 seemed as though he were afraid of Delesof, and his 
 face expressed painful terror whenever their eyes met. 
 He did not touch either book or violin, and made no 
 replies to the questions put to him. 
 
 On the third day after the musician came to stay 
 with him, Delesof returned home late in the evening, 
 tired and worried. He had been on the go all day, 
 attending to his duties. Though they had seemed 
 very simple and easy, yet, as is often the case, he had 
 not made any progress at all, in spite of his strenuous 
 endeavors. Afterwards he had stopped at the club, 
 and lost at whist. He was out of spirits. 
 
 ' k Well, God be with him," he replied to Zakhar, 
 
ALBERT. 179 
 
 who had been telling him of Albert's pitiable state. 
 "To-morrow I shall be really worried about him. Is 
 he willing or not to stay with me, and follow my ad- 
 vice? No? Then it's idle. I have done the best that 
 I could." 
 
 " That's what comes of trying to be a benefactor to 
 people," said he to himself. " I am putting myself to 
 inconvenience for him. I have taken this filthy crea- 
 ture into my rooms, which keep3 me from receiving 
 strangers in the morning ; I work and trot ; and yet he 
 looks upon me as some enemy who, against his will, 
 would keep him in pound. But the worst is, that he is 
 not willing to take a step in his own behalf. That's 
 the way with them all." 
 
 That word all referred to people in general, and 
 especially to those with whom he had been associated 
 in business that day. "But what is to be done for 
 him now? What is he contemplating? Why is he 
 melancholy? Is he melancholy on account of the de- 
 bauch from which I rescued him? on account of the 
 degradation in which he has been? the humiliation 
 from which I saved him? Can it be that he has 
 fallen so low that it is a burden for him to look on 
 a pure life? . . . 
 
 " No, this was a childish action," reasoned Delesof. 
 " Why should I undertake to direct others, when it is 
 as much as I can do to manage my own affairs? " 
 
 The impulse came over him to let him go immediately, 
 but after a little deliberation he postponed it till the 
 morning. 
 
 During the night Delesof was aroused by the noise 
 of a falling table in the ante-room, and the sound of 
 voices and stamping feet. 
 
 "Just wait a little, I will tell Dmitri Ivanovitch," 
 
180 • ALBERT. 
 
 said ZakhaVs voice ; Albert's voice replied passionately 
 and incoherently. 
 
 Delesof leaped up, and went with a candle into the 
 ante-room. Zakhar in his nightdress was standing 
 Rgafost the door; Albert in cap and alma viva was 
 trying to pull him away, and was screaming at him in 
 a pathetic voice. % 
 
 u You have no right to detain me ; I have a pass- 
 port; I have not stolen any thing from you. You 
 must let me go. I will goto the police." 
 
 "I beg of you, Dmitri Iv&novitch," said Zakhar, 
 turning to his barin, and continuing to stand guard at 
 the door. " He got up in the night, found the key in 
 my overcoat-pocket, and he has drunk up the whole 
 decanter of sweet vodka. Was that good ? And now 
 he wants to go. You didn't give me orders, and so I 
 could not let him out." 
 
 Albert, seeing Delesof, began to pull still more vio- 
 lently on Zakhar. u No one has the right to detain 
 me ! He cannot do it," he screamed, raising his voice 
 more and more. 
 
 " Let him go, Zakhar," said Delesof. "I do not 
 wish to detain you, and I have no right to, but I advise 
 you to stay till to-morrow," he added, addressing 
 Albert. 
 
 " No one has the right to detain me. I am going to 
 the police," screamed Albert more and more furiously, 
 addressing only Zakhar, and not heeding Delesof. 
 "Guard!" he suddenly shouted at the top of his 
 voice. 
 
 M Now, what are you screaming like that for? You 
 see you are free to go," said Zakhar, opening the door. 
 
 Albert ceased screaming. u How did they dare? 
 They were going to murder me! No! " he muttered 
 
ALBERT. ' 181 
 
 to himself as he put on his galoshes. Not offering to 
 say good-by, and still muttering something unintelli- 
 gible, he went out of the door. Zakhar accompanied 
 him to the gate, and came back. 
 
 " Thank the Lord, Dmitri Ivanovitch ! Any longer 
 would have been a sin," said he to his barin. "And 
 now we must count the silver." 
 
 Delesof only shook his head, and made no reply. 
 There came over him a lively recollection of the first 
 two evenings which he and the musician had spent 
 together ; he remembered the last wretched days which 
 Albert had spent there ; and above all he remembered 
 the sweet but absurd sentiment of wonder, of love, and 
 of sympathy, which had been aroused in him by the 
 very first sight of this strange man ; and he began to 
 pit}' him. 
 
 " What will become of him now ? " he asked himself. 
 " Without money, without warm clothing, alone at mid- 
 night ! " He thought of sending Zakhar after him, but 
 now it was too late. 
 
 "Is it cold out doors? " he asked. 
 
 "A healthy frost, Dmitri Ivanovitch," replied the 
 man. " I forgot to tell you that you will have to buy 
 some more firewood to last till spring." 
 
 " But what did you mean by saying that it would 
 last?" 
 
182 ALBERT. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Out of doors it was really cold ; but Albert did not 
 feel it, he was so excited by the wine that he had taken 
 and by the quarrel. 
 
 As he entered the street, he looked around him, and 
 rubbed his hands with pleasure. The street was 
 erapt}', but the long lines of lights were still brilliantly 
 gleaming ; the sk} r was clear and beautiful. " What ! " 
 he cried, addressing the lighted window in Delesof's 
 apartments ; and then thrusting his hands in his trou- 
 sers pockets under his coat, and looking straight ahead, 
 he walked with heavy and uncertain steps straight up 
 the street. 
 
 He felt an absolute weight in his legs and abdomen, 
 something hummed in his head, some invisible power 
 seemed to hurl him from side to side ; but he still 
 plunged ahead in the direction of where Anna Iv&n- 
 ovna lived. 
 
 Strange, disconnected thoughts rushed through his 
 head. Now he remembered his quarrel with Zaklmr, 
 now something recalled the sea and his first voyage in 
 the steamboat to Russia ; now the merry night that he 
 had spent with some friend in the wine-shop by which 
 he was passing ; then suddenly there came to him a 
 familiar air singing itself in his recollections, and he 
 seemed to see the object of his passion and the terrible 
 night in the theatre. 
 
 But notwithstanding their incoherence, all these 
 
ALBERT. 183 
 
 recollections presented themselves before his imagina- 
 tions with such distinctness that when he closed his 
 eyes he could not tell which was nearer to the reality : 
 what he was doing, or what he was thinking. He did 
 not realize and he did not feel how his legs moved, 
 how he staggered and hit against a wall, how he looked 
 around him, and how he made his way from street to 
 street. 
 
 As he went along the Little Morskaya, Albert tripped 
 and fell. Collecting himself in a moment, he saw 
 before him some huge and magnificent edifice, and he 
 went toward it. 
 
 In the sky not a star was to be seen, nor sign of 
 dawn, nor moon, neither were there any street-lights 
 there ; but all objects were perfectly distinguishable. 
 The windows of the edifice, which loomed up at the 
 corner of the street, were brilliantly lighted, but the 
 lights wavered like reflections. The building kept 
 coming nearer and nearer, clearer and clearer, to 
 Albert. 
 
 But the lights vanished the moment that Albert en- 
 tered the wide portals. Inside it was dark. He took 
 a few steps under the vaulted ceiling, and something 
 like shades glided by and fled at his approach. 
 
 M Why did I come here?" wondered Albert; but 
 some irresistible power dragged him forward into the 
 depths of the immense hall. 
 
 There stood some lofty platform, and around it in 
 silence stood what seemed like little men. " Who is 
 going to speak?" asked Albert. No one answered, 
 but some one pointed to the platform. There stood 
 now on the platform a tall, thin man, with bushy hair 
 and dressed in a variegated gown. Albert immediately 
 recognized his friend Petrof . 
 
184 ALBERT. 
 
 u How strange! what is he doing here?" said 
 Albert to himself. 
 
 " No, brethren," said Petrof, pointing to something, 
 41 you did not appreciate the man while he was living 
 among you ; you did not appreciate him ! He was not 
 a cheap artist, not a merely mechanical performer, 
 not a crazy, ruined man. He was a genius, a great 
 musical genius, who perished among you unknown 
 and unvalued." 
 
 Albert immediately understood of whom his friend 
 was speaking; but not wishing to interrupt him, he 
 hung his head modestly. u lie, like a sheaf of straw, 
 was wholly consumed by the sacred fire which we all 
 serve," continued the voice. "But he has completely 
 fulfilled all that God gave him ; therefore he ought to 
 be considered a great man. You may despise him, 
 torture him, humiliate him," continued the voice, more 
 and more energetically, " but he has been, is, and will 
 be immeasurabl}' higher than you all. He is happy, 
 he is good. He loved you all alike, or cared for 
 3 t ou, it is all the same; but he has served only that 
 with which he was so highly endowed. He loved one 
 thing, — beauty, the only infinite good in the world. 
 Oh, yes, what a man he is ! Fall all of you before 
 him. On your knees!" cried Petrof in a thundering 
 voice. 
 
 But another voice mildly answered from another 
 corner of the hall. " I do not wish to bow my knee 
 before him," said the voice. 
 
 Albert instantly recognized Delesof. 
 
 M "Why is he great? And why should we bow before 
 him? Has he conducted himself in an honorable and 
 righteous manner? Has he brought society an}' ad- 
 vantage? Do we not know how he borrowed money, 
 
ALBERT. 185 
 
 and never returned it ; how he carried off a violin that 
 belonged to a brother artist, and pawned it?" 
 
 44 My God ! how did he know all that? " said Albert 
 to himself, drooping his head still lower. 
 
 "Do we not know," the voice went on, u how he 
 pandered to the lowest of the low, pandered to them 
 for money ? Do we not know how he was driven out 
 of the theatre? How Anna Ivanovna threatened to 
 hand him over to the police? " 
 
 44 My God! that is all true, but protect me," cried 
 Albert. " You are the only one who knows why I did 
 so." 
 
 "Stop, for shame!" cried Petrof's voice again. 
 u What right have you to accuse him? Have you lived 
 his life? Have you experienced his enthusiasms? "• 
 
 44 Right! right! " whispered Albert. 
 
 44 Art is the highest manifestation of power in man. 
 Tt is given only to the favored few, and it lifts the 
 chosen to such an eminence that the head swims, and 
 it is hard to preserve its integrity. In art, as in every 
 struggle, there are heroes who bring all under subjec- 
 tion to them, and perish if they do not attain their 
 ends." 
 
 Petrof ceased speaking ; and Albert lifted his head, 
 and tried to shout in a loud voice, 44 Right! right!" 
 but his voice died without a sound. 
 
 44 That is not the case with you. This does not con- 
 cern you," sternly said the artist Petrof, addressing 
 Delesof. 44 Yes, humble him, despise him," he con- 
 tinued, 44 for he is better and happier than all the rest 
 of you." 
 
 Albert, with rapture in his heart at hearing these 
 words, could not contain himself, but went up to his 
 friend, and was about to kiss him. 
 
186 ALBERT. 
 
 44 Get thee gone, I do not know you," replied Petrof. 
 * 4 Go your own way, you cannot come here." 
 
 44 Here, you drunken fellow, you cannot come here," 
 cried a policeman at the crossing. 
 
 Albert hesitated, then collected all his forces, and, 
 endeavoring not to stumble, crossed over to the next 
 street. 
 
 It was only a few steps to Anna Iv&novna's. From 
 the hall of her house a stream of light fell on the 
 snowy dvor, and at the gate stood sledges and car- 
 riages. 
 
 Clinging with both hands to the balustrade, he made 
 his way up the steps, and rang the bell. 
 
 The maid's sleep} r face appeared at the open door, 
 and looked angrily at Albert. 
 
 44 It is impossible," she cried ; 44 1 have been forbid- 
 den to let you in," and she slammed the door. The 
 sounds of music and women's voices floated down to 
 him. 
 
 Albert sat down on the ground, and leaned his head 
 against the wall, and shut his eyes. At that very 
 instant a throng of indistinct but correlated visions 
 took possession of him with fresh force, mastered 
 him, and carried him off into the beautiful and free 
 domain of fancy. 
 
 44 Yes! he is better and happier," involuntarily the 
 voice repeated in his imagination. 
 
 From the door were heard the sounds of a polka. 
 These sounds also told him that he was better and 
 happier. In a neighboring church was heard the sound 
 of a prayer-bell ; and the prayer-bell also told him that 
 he was better and happier. 
 
 44 Now I will go back to that hall again," said 
 Albert to himself. 44 Petrof must have many things 
 still to tell me." 
 
ALBERT. 187 
 
 There seemed to be no one now in the hall ; and in 
 the place of the artist Petrof, Albert himself stood on 
 the platform, and was playing on his violin all that the 
 voice had said before. 
 
 But his violin was of strange make : it was com- 
 posed of nothing but glass, and he had to hold it with 
 both hands, and slowly rub it on his breast to make 
 it give out sounds. The sounds were so sweet and 
 delicious, that Albert felt he had never before heard 
 any thing like them. The more tightly he pressed the 
 violin to his breast, the more sweet and consoling they 
 became. The louder the sounds, the more swiftly the 
 shadows vanished, and the more brilliantly the walls of 
 the hall were illuminated. But it was necessary to 
 play very cautiously on the violin, lest it should break. 
 
 Albert played on the instrument of glass cautiously 
 and well. He played things the like of which he felt 
 no one would ever hear again. 
 
 He was growing tired, when a heavy distant sound 
 began to annoy him. It was the sound of a bell, but 
 this sound seemed to have a language. 
 
 ^ Yes," said the bell, with its notes coming from 
 somewhere far off and high up, "yes, he seems to 
 you wretched ; you despise him, but he is better and 
 happier than you. No one ever will play more on that 
 instrument ! " 
 
 These words which he understood seemed suddenly 
 so wise, so novel, and so true, to Albert, that he stopped 
 playing, and, while trying not to move, lifted his e3'es 
 and his arms toward heaven. He felt that he was 
 beautiful and happy. Although no one was in the 
 hall, Albert expanded his chest, and proudly lifted his 
 head, and stood on the platform so that all might see 
 him. 
 
188 ALBERT. 
 
 Suddenly some one's hand was gently laid on his 
 shoulder ; he turned around, and in the half light saw 
 a woman. She looked pityingly at him, and shook 
 her head. He immediately became conscious that 
 what he was doing was wrong, and a sense of shame 
 came over him. 
 
 44 Where shall I go?" he asked her. Once more 
 she gazed long and fixedly at him, and bent her head 
 pityingly. She was the oue, the very one whom he 
 loved, and her dress was the same ; on her round white 
 neck was the pearl necklace, and her lovely arms were 
 bare above the elbows. 
 
 She took him in her arms, and bore him away 
 through the hall. At the entrance of the hall, Albert 
 saw the moon and water. But the water was not below 
 as is usually the case, and the moon was not above ; 
 there was a white circle in one place as sometimes 
 happens. The moon and the water were together, — 
 everywhere, above and below, and on all sides and 
 around them both. Albert and his love darted off 
 toward the moon and the water, and he now realized 
 that she whom he loved more than all in the world 
 was in his arms : he embraced her, and felt inexpressi- 
 ble felicity. 
 
 4 ' Is not this a dream? " he asked himself. But no, 
 it was the reality, it was more than reality : it was 
 reality and recollection combined. 
 
 Then he felt that the indescribable pleasure which 
 he had felt during the last moment was gone, and 
 would never be renewed. 
 
 44 Why am I weeping?" he asked of her. She 
 looked at him in silence, with pitying eyes. Albert 
 understood what she desired to say in reply. 4 * Just 
 as when I was alive," he went on to say. She? with- 
 out replying, looked straight forward. 
 
ALBERT. 189 
 
 "This is terrible ! How can I explain to her that I 
 am alive?" he asked himself in horror. "My God, 
 I am alive ! Do understand me," he whispered. 
 
 "He is better and happier," said a voice. 
 
 But something kept oppressing Albert ever more 
 powerfully. Whether it was the moon or the water, or 
 her embrace or his tears, he could not tell, but he was 
 conscious that he could not say all that it was his duty 
 to say, and that all would be quickly over. 
 
 Two guests coming out from Anna Ivanovna's 
 rooms stumbled against Albert lying on the threshold. 
 One of them went back to Anna Ivanovna, and called 
 her. "That was heartless," he said. "You might 
 let a man freeze to death that way." 
 
 " Akhl why, that is m}' Albert. See where he was 
 lying!" exclaimed the hostess. " Annushka, have 
 him brought into the room ; find a place for him some- 
 where," she added, addressing the maid. 
 
 "Oh! I am alive, why do you bury me?" mut- 
 tered Albert, as they brought him unconscious into the 
 room. 
 
TWO HUSSAES. 
 
 A TALE. 
 1856. 
 
 Jomini, ay, Jomini, 
 But not a single word of vodka. 1 
 
 D. Davuidof. 
 
 At the very beginning of this century, when there 
 were no railways, no macadamized roads, no gas or 
 stearine candles, no low and springy sofas, no unvar- 
 nished furniture, no disillusionized young men with eye- 
 glasses, no women philosophers of liberal tendencies, 
 no dear Camilles, such as our time has produced in 
 abundance ; in those naive days when travellers made 
 the journey from Moscow to Petersburg by stage or 
 carriage, and took with them a whole kitchen of 
 domestic preparations, and travelled for a week, night 
 and day, over soft roads, muddy or dusty as the case 
 might be, pinned their faith to Pozharsky cutlets, 
 Valdai bluebells, and pretzels ; when during the long 
 autumn evenings tallow candles burned till they had 
 to be snuffed, and cast their rays on family circles of 
 twenty or thirty people (at balls, wax or spermaceti 
 candles were set up in candelabra) ; when furniture 
 
 1 From the poem entitled, " The Song of an Old Hussar," in which a 
 veteran contrasts the mighty days of the past with the dilettanti present. 
 Denis Vasilyevitch Davuidof, who was an officer of husaars, died in 1839. 
 — Tb. 
 
 190 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 191 
 
 was placed with stiff precision ; when onr fathers were 
 still young, not merely by the absence of wrinkles and 
 gray hair, but fought duels for women, and were fain 
 to rush from one end of a room to the other to pick up 
 a handkerchief dropped accidentally or otherwise, and 
 our mothers wore short waists and huge sleeves, and 
 decided family affairs by the drawing of lots ; when 
 charming Camilles avoided the light of day ; in the 
 naive period of Masonic lodges, of Martinists, and of 
 the Tugendbund; at the time of the Miloradovitches, 
 Davuidofs, and Pushkins, — a meeting of landed pro- 
 prietors took place in the governmental city of K., and 
 the election of the college of nobles was drawing to a 
 close. 
 
192 TWO HUSSAJiS. 
 
 I. 
 
 " Well, all right, it's all the same, be it in the hall," 
 said a young officer dressed in a shuba, and wearing a 
 hussar's helmet, as he dismounted from a travelling 
 sledge in front of the best hotel of the city of K. 
 
 "A great meeting, little father, your excellency, — 
 a tremendous crowd," said the hall-boy, who had 
 already learned from the officer's man that it was 
 Count Turbin, and therefore honored him with the 
 address of " your excellency." "Madame Afrimova 
 and her daughters have expressed the intention of going 
 away this evening ; you can be accommodated with their 
 room as soon as it is vacated, — No. 11," the hall- 
 boy went on to say, noiselessly showing the count the 
 way, and constantly turning round to look at him. 
 
 In the sitting-room, at a small table under a black- 
 ened full-length portrait of the Emperor Alexander, 
 sat a number of men, evidently belonging to the local 
 aristocracy, drinking champagne ; and on one side 
 were some travelling merchants in blue shubas. 
 
 The count entered the room, and calling Blucher, a 
 huge gray boarhound that accompanied him, he threw 
 off his cloak, the collar of which was covered with 
 frost, and, after ordering vodka, sat down at the table 
 in a short blue-satin jacket, and entered into conversa- 
 tion with the gentlemen sitting there. The latter, 
 attracted toward the new-comer by his handsome and 
 frank exterior, offered him a glass of champagne. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 193 
 
 The count had begun to drink his 'glass of vodka ; 
 but now he also ordered a bottle of champagne, in 
 order to return the courtesy of his new companions. 
 
 The driver came in to ask for vodka-money. 
 
 44 Sashka," * cried the count, " give it to him." 
 
 The driver went out with Sashka, but quickly 
 returned, holding the mone}' in his hands. 
 
 44 What ! little father, 'slency, is that right ? I did 
 my best for you. You promised me a half-ruble, and 
 you have only given me a quarter ! " 
 
 44 Sashka, give him a ruble.'* 
 
 Sashka, hanging down his head, gazed at the driver's 
 feet. 
 
 "He will have enough," said he in his deep voice. 
 " Besides, I haven't any more money." 
 
 The count drew from his pocket-book the two solitary 
 blue notes 2 which were in it, and gave one to the 
 driver, who kissed his hand, and went off. " I have 
 come to the end," said the count, " my last five 
 rubles." 
 
 44 True hussar style, count," said one of the nobles, 
 whose mustaches, voice, and a certain energetic free- 
 dom in the use of his legs, proclaimed him, beyond a 
 perad venture, to be a retired cavalryman. " Are } r ou 
 going to spend some time here, count? " 
 
 44 I must have some money if I stay, otherwise I 
 should not be very likely to. Besides, there are no 
 spare rooms, the Devil take it, in this cursed tavern." 
 
 44 1 beg of you, count," pursued the cavalryman, 
 44 wouldn't you like to come in with me? My room is 
 No. 7. If 3*ou wouldn't object to sleep there for the 
 present. We shall be here three days at least. 
 
 1 Diminished diminutive of Aleksandr. 
 
 2 Blue notes were five rubles. 
 
194 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 To-day I was a*t the marshal's : how glad he would 
 be to see you ! " 
 
 " That's right, count, stay with us," urged another 
 of the table companions, a handsome young man. 
 44 What is your hurry ? And besides, this happens only 
 once in three years, — these elections. We might get 
 a glimpse of some of our girls, count ! M 
 
 44 Sashka, get me some clean linen. I am going to 
 have a bath," said the count, rising. 44 And then we 
 will see ; perhaps I may decide to pay my respects to 
 the marshal." 
 
 Then he called the waiter, and said something to 
 him in an undertone. The waiter replied, with a 
 laugh, "That is within human possibility," and went 
 out. 
 
 44 Well, then, little father, I have given orders to 
 have my trunk taken to your room," cried the count, 
 as he went out of the door. 
 
 44 1 shall consider it a favor : it delights me," replied 
 the cavalryman as he hastened to the door, and cried, 
 44 No. 7; don't forget ! " 
 
 When the count was out of hearing, the cavalryman 
 returned to his place, and drawing his chair nearer to 
 the chinovnik, and looking him straight in his smiling 
 eyes, said, — 
 
 44 Well, he's the very one." 
 
 44 What one?" 
 
 44 1 tell you that he's that very same hussar duellist, 
 — let me see, the famous Turbin. He knew me. I'll 
 wager he knew me. I assure you, at Lebedyan he and 
 I were on a spree for three weeks, and were never 
 sober once. That was when I lost my remount. There 
 was one little affair at that time, — we were engaged 
 in it together. Ah, he is a gay lad ! isn't he, though? " 
 
TWO nUSSARS. 195 
 
 "Indeed he is. What pleasant manners he has! 
 There's no fault to be found with him," replied the 
 handsome young man. " How quickly we became 
 acquainted ! ... He isn't more than twenty-two, is 
 he?" 
 
 " He certainly would not seem so, would he? . . . 
 But he's really more than that. Well, now you want 
 to know who he. is, don't you? Who carried off 
 Megunova? He did. He killed Sablin. He kicked 
 Matnyef out of the window. He ' did ' Prince Nes- 
 terof out of three hundred thousand rubles. He's a 
 regular madcap. You ought to know him, — a gam- 
 bler, duellist, seducer, but a whole-souled fellow, a 
 genuine hussar. We got talked about a good deal, 
 but if any one really understood what it meant to be 
 a genuine hussar ! Those were great times." 
 
 And the cavalryman began to tell his comrade of a 
 drinking-bout with the count, which had never taken 
 place, nor could have taken place. It could not have 
 taken place, first, because he had never seen the 
 count before, and had retired from the service two 
 years before the count had entered it ; and secondly, 
 because this cavalryman had never served in the cav- 
 alry, but had served four years as a very insignificant 
 yunker in the Bielevsky regiment ; and just as soon as 
 he was promoted to be ensign, he retired. 
 
 But ten years before he had received an inheritance, 
 and actually went to Lebedyan ; and there he spent 
 seven hundred rubles with the cavalry officers, and had 
 had made for him an uhlan's uniform with orange lapels, 
 with the intention of entering the uhlans. His thought 
 of entering the cavalry, and his three weeks spent with 
 the officers at Lebedyan, made the very happiest and 
 most brilliant period of his life ; so that he began to 
 
196 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 transfer his thought into a reality. Then, as he added 
 remembrance to it, he began actually to believe in his 
 military past, — which did not prevent him from being 
 a worthy man through his kindness of heart and 
 uprightness. 
 
 u Yes, any one who has never served in the cavalry," 
 he went on to say, " will never understand us fellows." 
 
 He sat astride of his chair, and,, thrusting out his 
 lower lip, went on in a deep voice, " It happens you 
 are riding along in front of the battalion. A devil is 
 under you, not a horse, prancing along ; thus you sit 
 on this perfect devil. The battalion commander comes 
 along. ' Lieutenant,' says he, i I beg of you — your 
 service is absolutely indispensable. You must lead 
 the battalion for the parade.' Very well, and so it 
 goes. You look around, you give a shout, you lead 
 the brave fellows who are under your command. Ah ! 
 the deuce take it ! 'twas a glorious time ! " 
 
 The count came back from the bath, all ruddy, and 
 with his hair wet, and went directly to No. 7, where 
 the cavalryman was already sitting in his dressing- 
 gown, with his pipe, and thinking with delight and 
 some little anxiety of the good fortune that had be- 
 fallen him in sharing his room with the famous Turbin. 
 " Well, now," the thought came into his head, " sup- 
 pose he should take me, and strip me naked, and carry 
 me outside the town limits, and set me down in the 
 snow, ... or smear me with tar . . . or simply . . . 
 But, no : he would not do such a thing to a comrade," 
 he said, trying to comfort himself. 
 
 " Sashka, give Bliicher something to eat," cried the 
 count. 
 
 Sashka made his appearance. He had been drinking 
 glasses of vodka ever since his arrival, and was begin- 
 ning to be genuinely tipsy. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 197 
 
 " You have not been able to control yourself. 
 You have been getting drunk, canaillya! . . . Feed 
 Bliicher." 
 
 " It won't kill him to fast. . . . You see, . . . he's 
 so plump," replied Sashka, caressing the dog. 
 
 "Now, none of your impudence. Go, and feed 
 him." 
 
 " All you care for is to have your clog fat ; but if a 
 man drinks a little glass, then you pitch into him." 
 
 " Hey ! I'll strike 3 r ou," cried the count with a voice 
 that made the window-panes rattle, and even scared 
 the cavalryman somewhat. 
 
 " You would better ask if Sashka has had any thing 
 to eat to-day. All right, strike away, if a dog is 
 more to you than a man," continued Sashka. 
 
 But at that instant he received such a violent blow 
 of the fist across the face that he staggered, struck 
 his head against the partition, and, clutching his nose, 
 leaped through the door, and threw himself down on a 
 bench in the corridor. 
 
 " He has broken my teeth," he growled, wiping his 
 bloody nose with one hand, and with the other scratch- 
 ing Bliicher's back, as the dog licked him. "He has 
 broken my teeth, Bluchka ; and yet he is my count, 
 and I would jump into the fire for him, that's a fact. 
 Because he's my count, do you understand, Bluchka? 
 And do }'ou want something to eat? " 
 
 After lying there a while, he got up, gave the dog 
 his dinner, and, almost sobered, went to serve his 
 master, and get him his tea. 
 
 "You would simply offend me," said the cavalry- 
 man timidly, standing in front of the count, who was 
 lying on the bed with his feet propped against the 
 partition. " Now, you see, I am an old soldier and 
 
198 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 comrade, I may say ; instead of letting you borrow of 
 any one else, it would give me great pleasure to let 
 you have two hundred rubles. I haven't them with 
 me now, — only a hundred, — but I can get the rest 
 to-day ; don't refuse, you would simply offend me, 
 count!" 
 
 M Thanks, little father," said Turbin, instantly per- 
 ceiving what sort of relationship would exist between 
 them, and slapping the cavalryman on the shoulder. 
 " Thanks. Well, then, we'll go to the ball if you say 
 so. But now what shall we do ? Tell me whom you 
 have in your city : any pretty girls ? anybody ready 
 for a spree? Who plays cards? " 
 
 The cavalryman explained that there would be a 
 crowd of pretty girls at the ball ; that the police com- 
 missioner, 1 Kolkof, who had just been re-elected, was 
 the greatest hand for sprees, only he lacked the spirit 
 of a genuine hussar, but still was a first-rate fellow ; 
 that Ilyushka's chorus of gypsies had been singing at 
 K. ever since the elections began ; that Stioshka   was 
 the soloist, and that after the marshal's reception 
 everybody went there nowadays. And the stakes were 
 pretty high. tk Lukhnof, a visitor here," he said, " is 
 sweeping in the money ; and Ilyin, a cornet of uhlans, 
 who rooms in No. 8, has already lost a pile. The game 
 has already begun there. They play there every even- 
 ing ; and he's a wonderfully fine young fellow, I tell 
 you, count, this Ilyin is. There's nothing mean about 
 him — he'd give you his last shirt." 
 
 u Then let us go to his room. We will see what sort 
 of men you have," said the count. 
 
 " Come on ! come on ! they will be mighty glad." 
 
 1 isprdvnik. 
 
 2 Diminutive of Stepanida, Stephanie. 
 
TWO IWSSAJiS. 199 
 
 II. 
 
 Ilyin, the cornet of uhlans, had not long been 
 awake. The evening before, he had sat down at the 
 gambling-table at eight o'clock, and lost for fifteen 
 consecutive hours, till eleven o'clock that da} 7 . He 
 had lost a great amount, but exactly how much he did 
 not know, because he had had three thousand rubles 
 of his money, and .fifteen thousand belonging to the 
 treasury, which he had long ago mixed up with his 
 own, and he did not dare to settle his accounts lest 
 his anticipations that he had made too great inroads 
 on the public money should be confirmed. 
 
 He went to sleep about noon, and slept that heavy, 
 dreamless sleep, peculiar to very young men who have 
 been losing heavily. Waking at six, about the time 
 that Count Turbin had arrived at the hotel, and seeing 
 cards and chalk and soiled tables scattered around him 
 in confusion in the room, he remembered with horror the 
 evening's games, and the last card, a knave, which had 
 lost him five hundred rubles ; but, still scarcely believ- 
 ing in the realit}-, he drew out from under his pillow 
 his money, and began to count it. He recognized a 
 few notes which, with corners turned down and in- 
 dorsements, had gone from hand to hand around the 
 table ; he remembered all the particulars. He had 
 lost his own three thousand rubles, and twenty-five 
 hundred belonging to the treasury had disappeared. 
 
 The uhlan had been playing for four nights in 
 succession. 
 
200 TWO IWSSARS. 
 
 He bad come from Moscow, where the public money 
 had been intrusted to him. At K. the post-superin- 
 tendent had detained him under the pretext that there 
 were no post-horses, but in reality in accordance with 
 his agreemeut with the hotel-keeper to detain all visitors 
 for a day. 
 
 The uhlan, who was a gay young fellow, and had 
 just received from his parent three thousand rubles for 
 his military equipment, was glad to spend a few days 
 in the city of K. during the elections, and counted on 
 having a good time. 
 
 He knew a landed proprietor whose family lived 
 there, and he was preparing to call upon him and pay 
 his addresses to his daughter, when the cavalryman 
 appeared, and made his acquaintance. That very even- 
 ing, without malice prepense, he took him down into 
 the parlor, and introduced him to his friends, Lukhnof 
 and several other gamblers. From that time, the 
 uhlan had kept steadily at gaming, and not only had 
 not called on the proprietor, but had not thought of 
 inquiring further for horses, and for four days had not 
 left his room. 
 
 After he had dressed, and taken his tea, he went to 
 the window. He felt an inclination to go out so as 
 to dispel the importunate recollections of the game. 
 He put on his cloak, and went into the street. 
 
 The sun had just sunk behind the white houses with 
 their red roofs. It was already twilight. It was 
 warm. The snow was softly falling in big, damp 
 flakes, in the muddj' streets. His mind suddenly be- 
 came filled with unendurable melancholy at the thought 
 that he had spent all that day in sleep, and now the 
 day was done. 
 
 " This day which has gone, will never come back 
 again," he said to himself. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 201 
 
 (( 
 
 I have wasted my youth," he suddenly exclaimed, 
 not because he really felt that he had wasted his youth, 
 — he did not think about it at all, — but simply this 
 phrase came into his head. 
 
 44 What shall I do now?" he reasoned ; " borrow of 
 some one, and go away? " 
 
 A lad} 7 was passing along the sidewalk. 
 
 "What a stupid woman!" he said to himself for 
 some reason. 
 
 44 There's no one I can borrow of. I have wasted 
 my youth." 
 
 He came to a block of stores. A merchant in a 
 fox-skin shuba was standing at the door of his shop, 
 and inviting custom. 
 
 44 If I hadn't taken the eight, I should have won." 
 
 A little old beggar-woman followed him, snivelling. 
 
 44 1 have no one to borrow of." 
 
 A gentleman in a bear-skin shuba passed him. A 
 policeman was standing on the corner. 
 
 44 What can I do that will make sensation? Fire a 
 pistol at them? No ! That would be stupid. I have 
 wasted my youth. Akh! what a splendid harness 
 that is hanging in that shop ! 1 should like to be 
 riding behind a troika ! . . . Ekh ! you fine fellows ! l 
 I am going back. Lukhnof will be there pretty soon, 
 and we'll have a game." 
 
 He returned to the hotel, and once more counted his 
 money. No, he was not mistaken the first time ; 
 twenty-five hundred rubles of public money were 
 missing, just as before. 
 
 44 1 will put up twenty-five rubles first; the next 
 time, a quarter stake ; then on seven, on fifteen, on 
 thirty, and on sixty . . . three thousand. I will buy 
 
 1 golubchiki, little pigeons. 
 
202 TWO TWSSARS. 
 
 that harness, and start. He won't give me any odds, 
 the villaiu ! I have wasted my youth ! " 
 
 This was what was. passing through the uhlan's 
 mind just as Lukhnof himself came into the room. 
 
 " Well, have you been up long, Mikhailo Vasil- 
 yitch? " inquired Lukhnof, deliberately removing from 
 his thin nose his gold eye-glasses, and carefully wiping 
 them with a red silk handkerchief. 
 
 "No, only just this minute. I had a splendid 
 sleep ! " 
 
 11 A new hussar has just come. He is staying with 
 Zavalshevsky. Had you heard about it? " 
 
 M No, I hadn't. Well, no one seems to be here 
 yet. I believe they have gone to call on Priakhin. 
 They'll be here very soon." 
 
 In fact, in a short time there came into the room 
 an officer of the garrison, who was always hovering 
 round Lukhnof ; a Greek merchant with a huge hooked 
 nose, cinnamon complexion, and deep-set black eyes ; a 
 stout, puffy proprietor, a brandy-distiller who gambled 
 all night long, and always made his stakes on the basis 
 of half a ruble. All of these wished to begin playing 
 as promptly as possible, but the more daring players 
 said nothing about it; Lukhnof, in particular, with 
 perfect equanimity, told stories of rascality in Moscow. 
 
 "Just think of it," said he, " Moscow, the metrop- 
 olis, the capital ; and there they go out at night with 
 crooks, dressed like demons ; and the}' scare the stupid 
 people, and rob pedestrians, and that is the end of it. 
 Do the police notice it? No ! It is astonishing ! " 
 
 The uhlan listened attentively to the tales of these 
 highwaymen, but finally got up aud unobtrusively 
 ordered cards to be brought. The stout proprietor 
 was the first to notice it. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 203 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, we are wasting golden moments. 
 To work, let us to work ! " 
 
 " Yes, you won by the half -ruble last evening, and 
 so you like it," exclaimed the Greek. 
 
 "It's a good time to begin," said the garrison 
 officer. 
 
 Ilyin looked at Lukhnof. Lukhnof, returning his 
 gaze, went on calmly with his story of the robbers 
 who dressed themselves up like devils. "Will you 
 start the bank? " asked the uhlan. 
 
 " Isn't it rather early? " 
 
 "Byelof!" cried the uhlan, reddening for some 
 reason or other; "bring me something to eat. . . . 
 I haven't had any dinner to-day, gentlemen. Bring 
 some champagne, and distribute the cards." 
 
 A this moment, the count and Zavalshevsky entered. 
 It proved that Turbin and Ilyin were in the same 
 division. They immediately struck up an acquaint- 
 ance, drank a glass of champagne, clinking their 
 glasses together, and in five minutes were calling each 
 other "thou." 
 
 It was evident that Ilyin made a very pleasant im- 
 pression on the count. The count smiled whenever 
 he looked at him, and was amused at his freshness. 
 
 "What a fine young uhlan!" he said, "what a 
 mustache ! what a splendid mustache ! " 
 
 Ilyin 's upper lip bore the first down of a mustache, 
 that was as yet almost white. 
 
 " You were preparing to play, were you not? " asked 
 the count. "Well, I should like to win from you, 
 Ilyin. I think that you must be a master," he added 
 smiling. 
 
 "Yes, we were just starting in," replied Lukhnof, 
 opening a pack of cards. . . . '* Aren't you going to 
 join us, count? " 
 
204 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 " No, I won't to-night. If I did there wouldn't be 
 any thing left of an}' of you ! When I take a hand I 
 always break the bank. But I haven't any money just 
 now. I lost at Volotchok, at the station-house. It was 
 by some sort of infantry-man who wore rings ; what 
 a cheat he was ! and he cleaned me out completely." 
 
 itr Were you long there at the station? " asked Ilyin. 
 
 44 I staid there twenty-two hours. I shall not forget 
 that station, curse it! and the superintendent won't 
 forget it either." 
 
 41 Why?" 
 
 44 1 got there, you see ; the superintendent comes 
 out, rascally face, the liar ! 4 There are no horses,' said 
 he. Well, now I must tell you, I have made a rule in 
 such cases : when there are no horses, I keep on my 
 shuba, aud go straight to the superintendent's room, — 
 not the waiting-room, mind you, but the superintend- 
 ent's own room, — and I have all the windows and 
 doors opened, as though it were stifling. Well, that's 
 what I did here. Cold ! you remember how cold it has 
 been this last month ; twenty degrees below. The 
 superintendent began to remonstrate. I knock his 
 teeth in for him. There was some old woman there ; 
 and some young girls and peasant-women 1 set up a 
 piping, were going to seize their pots and fly to the 
 village. . . . I go to the door, and say, ' Let me have 
 horses, and I'll go away : if you don't, I won't let you 
 out, I'll freeze you all to death.' " 
 
 44 What an admirable way ! " said the puffy proprie- 
 tor, bursting out into a laugh. 44 That's the way one 
 would freeze out cockroaches." 
 
 44 But I wasn't sufficiently on my guard: the super- 
 intendent and all his women managed to get out and 
 
 1 babas. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 205 
 
 run away. Only the old woman remained on the oven 
 as my hostage. She kept sniffing, and offering prayers 
 to God. Then we entered into negotiations. The 
 superintendent came back, and, standing at a distance, 
 tried to persuade me to let the old woman go. But I 
 set Bliicher on him : Blucher is a magnificent dog to 
 take care of superintendents. Even then the rascal 
 did not let me have horses till the next morning. And 
 then came along that footpad ! I went into the next 
 room, and began to play. Have you seen Blucher? — 
 Blucher ! Fiu I ' ' Blucher came running in. The 
 players received him with flattering attention, although 
 it was evident that they were anxious to get to work at 
 entirely different matters. 
 
 " By the way, gentlemen, why don't you begin your 
 game? I beg of you, don't let me interfere with you. 
 You see I am a chatterbox," said Turbin. " Whether 
 you love or not, 'tis an excellent thing." 
 
206 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Lukhnof took two candles, brought out a huge dark- 
 colored pocket-book full of money ; slowly, as though 
 performing some sacrament, opened it on the table ; 
 took out two one-huudred-ruble notes, and laid them on 
 the cards. 
 
 44 There, just the same as last evening ; the bank 
 begins with two hundred," said he, adjusting his 
 glasses, and opening a pack of cards. 
 
 "Very well," said Uyin, not glancing at him, or 
 interrupting his conversation withTurbin. 
 
 The game began. Lukhnof kept the bank with 
 mechanical regularity, occasionally pausing, and de- 
 liberately making notes, or looking sternty over his 
 glasses, and saying in a weak voice, 44 Throw." 
 
 The stout proprietor talked louder than the rest, 
 making various calculations at the top of his voice, 
 while he wet his clumsy fingers and dog-eared his cards. 
 
 The garrison officer silently wrote in a fine hand his 
 account on a card, turned down small corners, pressing 
 them against the table. 
 
 The Greek sat next the banker, attentively following 
 the game with his deep black eyes, as though waiting 
 for something. 
 
 Zavalshevsky, as he stood by the table, would sud- 
 denly become all of a tremble, draw from his trousers- 
 pocket a blue note or a red, 1 lay a card on it, pound on 
 
 1 Five or ten rubles. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 207 
 
 it with his palm, and say, " Bring me luck, little 
 seven ! " then he would bite his mustache, change from 
 one leg to the other, and be in a continual state of 
 excitement until the card came out. 
 
 Ilyin, who had been eating veal and cucumbers placed 
 near him on the haircloth sofa, briskly wiped his hands 
 on his coat, and began to put down one card after 
 another. 
 
 Turbin, who had taken his seat at first on the sofa, 
 immediately noticed that something was wrong. Lukh- 
 nof did not look at the uhlan, or say any thing to him ; 
 but occasionally his eyes for an instant rested on the 
 uhlan's hands. The most of his cards lost. 
 
 tfc If I could only trump that little card," exclaimed 
 Lukhnof in reference to one of the stout proprietor's 
 cards. He was still making half-ruble wagers. 
 
 " Trump Ilyin's instead: what would be the use of 
 trumping mine? " replied the proprietor. 
 
 And, in point of fact, Ilyin's cards were trumped 
 oftener than the others'. He nervously tore up his 
 losing card under the table, and with trembling hands 
 chose another. 
 
 Turbin arose from the sofa, and asked the Greek to 
 give him his place next the banker. The Greek 
 changed places ; and the count, taking his chair, and 
 not moving his eyes, began to watch Lukhnof's hands 
 attentively. 
 
 " Ilyin," said he suddenly in his ordinary voice, 
 which, entirely contrary to his desire, drowned out 
 the others, " why do you stick to those routine cards? 
 You don't know how to play ! " 
 
 " Supposing I don't, it's all the same." 
 
 " You'll lose that way surely. Let me play against 
 the bank for you." 
 
208 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 44 No, excuse me, I beg of you. I'm always this 
 way. Play for yourself if you like." 
 
 41 1 have told you that I am not going to play. But 
 I should like to play for you. I hate to see you losing 
 so." 
 
 44 Ah, well ! you see it's my luck." 
 
 The count said nothing more, and leaning on his 
 elbow began once more to watch the banker's hand 
 just as attentively as before. 
 
 44 Shameful!" he suddenly cried in a loud voice, 
 dwelling on the word. 
 
 Lukhnof glared at him. 
 
 u Shameful, shameful ! " he repeated still louder, 
 staring straight into Lukhnof 's eyes. 
 
 The game continued. 
 
 44 That is not right !" said Turbin again, as Lukhnof 
 trumped one of Ilyin's high cards. 
 
 44 What displeases you, count?" politely asked the 
 banker with an air of indifference. 
 
 44 Because you give Ilyin a simplum, and turn down 
 your corners. That's what is shameful ! " 
 
 Lukhnof made a slight motion with his shoulders 
 and brows, signifying that he was resigned to any 
 fate, and then he went on with the game. 
 
 44 Bliicher, fiu!" cried the count, rising; 44 over 
 with him ! " he added quickly. Bliicher, bumping 
 against the sofa with his back, and almost knocking 
 the garrison officer from his feet, came leaping toward 
 his master, looking at every one and wagging his tail 
 as though he would ask, 44 Who is misbehaving here, 
 hey?" 
 
 Lukhnof laid down the cards, and moved his chair 
 away. 44 This is no way to play," said he. 44 1 detest 
 dogs. What kind of a game can you have if a whole 
 pack of hounds is to be brought in? " 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 209 
 
 " Especially that kind of dog : they are called blood- 
 suckers, if I am not mistaken," suggested the garrison 
 officer. 
 
 " Well, are we to play or not, Mikhiii'lo Vasilyitch ? " 
 asked Lukhnof, addressing the uhlan. 
 
 " Don't bother us, count, I beg of you," said Ilyin, 
 turning to Turbin. 
 
 " Come here for a moment," said Turbin, taking 
 Ilyin's arm, and drawing him into the next room. 
 
 There the count's words* were perfectly audible, 
 though he spoke in his ordinary tone. But his voice 
 was so powerful that it could always be heard three 
 rooms off. 
 
 " Are you beside yourself? Don't you see that that 
 man with the glasses is a cheat of the worst order? " 
 
 " Hey? Nonsense ! Be careful what you say." 
 
 " No nonsense ! but quit it, I tell you. It makes no 
 difference to me. Another time I myself would have 
 plucked you ; but now I am sorry to see you ruining 
 yourself. Have you any public money left? " 
 
 M No. What makes you think so about him? " 
 
 "Brother, I have been over this same road, and I 
 know the ways of these professional gamblers. I tell 
 you that the man in the glasses is a cheat. Quit, 
 please. I ask you as a comrade." 
 
 " All right ; I'll have just one more hand, and then 
 have done with it." 
 
 "I know what that 'one more' means: very well, 
 we will see." 
 
 They returned to the gaming-table. In one deal he 
 laid down so many cards, and they were trumped so 
 badly, that he lost a large amount. 
 
 Turbin rested his hand in the middle of the table, 
 and said, " That's enough ! now let us be going." 
 
210 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 44 No, I can't go yet; leave me, please," said Ilyin 
 in vexation, shuttling the bent cards and not looking 
 at Turbin. 
 
 44 All right ! the Devil be with you ! Lose all you've 
 got, if that please you ; but it's time for me to be 
 going. — Come, Zavalshevsky, let us go to the mar- 
 shal's.'' 
 
 And they went out. No one spoke, and Lukhnof 
 did not make the bank until the noise of their feet and 
 of Bliicher's paws had died away down the corridor. 
 
 44 That's a madcap," said the proprietor, smiling. 
 
 44 Well, now he won't bother us any more," said the 
 garrison officer in a hurried whisper. 
 
 And the game went on. 
 
TWO EUSSARS. 211 
 
 IV. 
 
 The band, composed of the marshal's domestic 
 serfs, were stationed in the butler's pantry, which had 
 been put in order on account of the ball, and, having 
 turned up the sleeves of their coats, had begun at the 
 signal of their leader to play the ancient polonaise 
 44 Aleksandr, Yelisavieta ; " and under the soft, brilliant 
 light of the wax candles, the couples began to move in 
 tripping measure through the great ballroom ; a gov- 
 ernor-general of Catherine's time, with a star, taking 
 out the gaunt wife of the marshal, the marshal with 
 the governor's wife, and so on through all the hier- 
 archy of the government in various combinations and 
 variations, — when Zavalshevsky'in a blue coat with a 
 huge collar, and epaulets on his shoulders, and wearing 
 stockings and pumps, and exhaling about him an odor 
 of jasmine with which he had plentifully drenched his 
 mustaches, the facings of his coat, and his handker- 
 chief, entered with the handsome count, who wore 
 tight-fitting blue trousers and a red pelisse embroidered 
 with gold, and wearing on his breast the cross of 
 Vladimir and a medal of 1812. 
 
 The count was of medium height, but had an ex- 
 tremely handsome figure. His clear blue eyes of 
 remarkable brilliancy, and dark hair which was rather 
 long and fell in thick ringlets, gave his beauty a 
 peculiar character. 
 
 The count's presence at the ball was not unexpected. 
 
212 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 The handsome young man who had seen him at the 
 hotel had already spoken of him to the marshal. 
 
 The impressions made by this announcement were 
 of various kinds, but on the whole were not altogether 
 pleasant. 
 
 11 1 suppose this young man will turn us into ridi- 
 cule," was what the old women and the men said to 
 themselves. 
 
 44 Suppose he should run off with me," was what 
 the wives and young ladies thought, with more or less 
 apprehension. 
 
 As soon as the polonaise was finished, and the 
 couples had made each other low bows, once more 
 the women formed little groups by themselves, and the 
 men by themselves. Zavalshevsky, proud and happy, 
 led the count up to the hostess. 
 
 The marshal's wife, conscious of a certain inward 
 trepidation lest this hussar should make her the cause 
 of some scandal before everybody, said proudly and 
 scornfully, as she turned away, " Very glad to see 
 you. I hope that you will dance." And then she 
 looked at the count mistrustfully with an expression 
 that seemed to say, "Now, if you insult any woman, 
 then you are a perfect scoundrel after this." 
 
 The count, however, quickly overcame this prejudice 
 by his amiability, his politeness, and his handsome 
 jovial appearance ; so that in five minutes the expres- 
 sion on the face of the marshal's wife plainly declared 
 to all who stood around her, u I know how to manage 
 all these men. He immediately realized whom he was 
 talking with. And now he will be charming to me all 
 the rest of the evening." 
 
 Moreover, just then the governor, who had known 
 his father, came up to the count, and very graciously 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 213 
 
 drew him to one side, and entered into conversation 
 with him, which still more pleased the fashionable 
 society of the town, and raised the count in their 
 estimation. 
 
 Then Zavalshevsky presented the count to his sister, 
 a plump young widow, who, ever since the count 
 entered the room, had kept her big black eyes fastened 
 upon him. 
 
 The count asked the little widow for the waltz which 
 at that moment the musicians had struck up, and it 
 was his artistic dancing that conquered the last vestiges 
 of the popular prejudice. 
 
 " Ah, he's a master at dancing ! " said a stout lady, 
 following the legs in blue trousers which were flash- 
 ing through the ballroom, and mentally counting, 
 "One, two, three; one, two, three, — he's a master." 
 
 "How gracefully he moves his feet! how grace- 
 fully! " said another guest, who did not stand very 
 high in the governmental society. ' ' How does he 
 manage to not hit anyone with his spurs? Wonderful, 
 very skilful ! ' ' 
 
 The count, by his skill in dancing, eclipsed the three 
 best dancers of the city. These were, a governor's aide, 
 a tall albino, who was famous for his rapid dancing 
 and because he held the lady pressed very close to his 
 breast ; secondl}', the cavahyman, who was famous 
 for his graceful swaying during the waltz, and for his 
 frequent but light tapping witli his heels ; and thirdly, 
 a civilian of whom everybody said, that, though he 
 was not very strong-minded, yet he was an admirable 
 dancer and the life of all balls. 
 
 In point of fact, this civilian from the beginning to 
 the end of a ball invariably invited all the ladies in 
 the order in which they sat, did not cease for a moment 
 
214 TWO nUSSARS. 
 
 to dance, and only occasionally paused to wipe his 
 weary but still radiant face with his cambric handker- 
 chief, which would become wet through. 
 
 The count had surpassed them all, and had danced 
 with the three principal ladies, — with the stout one, 
 who was rich, handsome, and stupid ; with the middle- 
 sized one, who was lean, and not particularly good- 
 looking, but handsomely dressed ; and with the little 
 one, who was not pretty, but very witty. 
 
 He had danced also with others, — with all the 
 pretty women, and there were many pretty women 
 there. 
 
 But the little widow, Zavalshevsky's sister, pleased 
 the count more than all the rest ; with her he danced 
 a quadrille and a schottische and a mazurka. 
 
 At first, when they took their places for the quadrille, 
 he overwhelmed her with compliments, comparing her 
 to Venus and Diana, and to a rosebush, and to some 
 other flower besides. 
 
 To all these amenities the little widow only bent her 
 white neck, modestly dropped her eyes, and, looking 
 at her white muslin dress, changed her fan from one 
 hand to the other. 
 
 When, at last, she said, " This is too much, count; 
 3 r ou are jesting," etc., her voice, which was rather 
 guttural, betrayed such naive simplicity of heart and 
 amusing naturalness that the count, as he looked at 
 her, actually compared her, not to a flower or to a 
 rosebush, but to some kind of a pinkish-white wild- 
 flower, exuberant and odorless, growing alone on a 
 virgin snow-drift in some far, far-distant land. 
 
 Such a strange impression was made upon the count 
 by this union of naivete and unconventionality together 
 with fresh beauty, that several times, in the pauses of 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 215 
 
 the conversation, when he looked silently into her eyes 
 or contemplated the loveliness of her arms and neck, 
 the desire came over him with such vehemence to take 
 her into his arms and kiss her again and again, that 
 he was really obliged to restrain himself. 
 
 The little widow was quite satisfied with the impres- 
 sion which she perceived that she had made ; but there 
 was something in the count's behavior that began to 
 disquiet her, and fill her with apprehensions, though 
 the young hussar was not only flatteringly amiable, 
 but even, to an extravagant degree, deferential in his 
 treatment of her. 
 
 He ran to get orgeat for her, picked up her handker- 
 chief, snatched a chair from the hands of a scrofulous 
 young proprietor, who was also anxious to pay her 
 attention, and who was not quick enough. But per- 
 ceiving that these assiduities, which were fashionable at 
 that period, had little effect in making the lady well- 
 disposed, he began to amuse her by telling her ridicu- 
 lous anecdotes : he assured her that he was ready at a 
 moment's notice to stand on his head, or to crow like 
 a cock, or to jump out of the window, or to fling himself 
 into a hole in the ice. 
 
 This procedure was a brilliant success : the little 
 widow became very ga}* ; she rippled with laughter, 
 displaying her marvellous white teeth, and became en- 
 tirely satisfied with her cavalier. The count each 
 moment grew more and more enchanted with her, so 
 that at the end of the quadrille he was really in love 
 with her. 
 
 After the quadrille, when she was approached by 
 her former admirer^ a young man of eighteen, the son 
 of a very rich proprietor, the same scrofulous young 
 .man from whom Turbin had snatched away the chair, 
 
216 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 she received him with perfect coolness, and not one- 
 U'nth part of the constraint was noticeable in her 
 which she felt when she was with the count. 
 
 41 You are very kind," she said, all the time gazing 
 at Tnrbin's back, and unconsciously reckoning how 
 many yards 1 of gold-lace were used for his whole 
 jacket. " You are very kind ; you promised to come 
 to take me for a walk, and to bring me some com- 
 fits." 
 
 44 Well, I did come, Anna Fedorovna, but you 
 weren't at home, and I left the very best comfits 
 for you," said the young man, in a voice that was 
 very thin, considering his height. 
 
 44 You always are provided with excuses; I don't 
 need your comfits. Please do not think" . . . 
 
 44 1 begin to see, Anna Fedorovna, how you have 
 changed toward me, and I know why. But it is not 
 right," he added, but without finishing his remark, 
 evidently owing to some powerful interior emotion, 
 which caused his lips to tremble strangely. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna did not heed him, and continued to 
 follow Turbin with her eyes. The marshal, at whose 
 house the ball was given, — a big, stout old man, who 
 had lost his teeth, — came up to the count, and, taking 
 him by the arm, invited him into his library to smoke 
 and drink if he so desired. 
 
 As soon as Turbin disappeared, Anna Fedorovna 
 felt that there was absolutely nothing for her to do in 
 the ballroom, and slipping her hand through the arm 
 of a dried-up old maid, who was a friend of hers, went 
 with her into the dressing-room. 
 
 44 Well, what do you think of him? Is he nice?" 
 asked the old maid. 
 
 1 arnhitis. 
 
TWO IWSSARS. 217 
 
 " Only it's terrible — the way he follows j t ou up ! " 
 said Anna Fedorovna, going to the mirror, and con- 
 templating herself in it. 
 
 Her face was aglow, her eyes were full of mischief, 
 her color was heightened ; then suddenly imitating one 
 of the ballet-dancers whom she had seen during elec- 
 tion time, she pirouetted round on one toe, and, laughing 
 her guttural but sweet laugh, she leaped up in the air, 
 crossing her knees. 
 
 ' ' What a man he is ! he even asked me for a sou- 
 venir," she confided to her friend. " But he will 
 ne-e-vergetone," she said, singing the last words, and 
 lifting one finger in the lilac-colored glove that reached 
 to her elbow. 
 
 In the library where Turbin was conducted by the 
 marshal, stood various kinds of vodka, liqueurs, edi- 
 bles, 1 and champagne. In a cloud of tobacco-smoke 
 the nobility were sitting, or walking up and down, 
 talking about the elections. 
 
 " When the whole of the high nobility of our district 
 has honored him with an election," exclaimed the 
 newly elected ispravnik who was already tolerably 
 tipsy, "he certainly ought not to fail in his duties 
 toward society in general." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the count's 
 coming. All were presented to him, and the isprav- 
 nik especially pressed his hand long between both of 
 his, and asked him several times to go with him after 
 the ball to the new tavern, where he would treat the 
 gentlemen of the nobility, and where they would hear 
 the gypsies sing. 
 
 The count accepted his invitation, and drank with 
 him several glasses of champagne. 
 
 1 zakuski. 
 
218 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 "Why aren't you dancing, gentlemen?" he asked, 
 as he was about to leave the library. 
 
 "We aren't dancers," replied the ispr&vnik, laugh- 
 ing. " We prefer the wine, count; and besides, all 
 these young ladies have grown up under ray eyes, 
 count. But still, I do sometimes take part in a schot- 
 tische, count. I can do it, count." 
 
 11 Come on then for a while," said Turbin. " Let 
 us have some sport before we go to the gypsies." 
 
 "What say j-ou, gentlemen? Let us come! Let 
 us delight our host! " 
 
 And the three gentlemen who, since the beginning of 
 the ball, had been drinking In the library and had very 
 red faces, began to draw on their gloves, some of black 
 kid, another of knit silk, and were just going with the 
 count to the ballroom, when they were detained by 
 the scrofulous young man, who, pale as a sheet, and 
 scarcely able to refrain from tears, came straight up to 
 Turbin. 
 
 "You have an idea, because you are a count, you 
 can run into people as if you were at a fair," said he, 
 with difficulty drawing his breath; " hence it isn't 
 fitting" — 
 
 Once more the stream of his speech was interrupted 
 by the involuntary trembling of his lips. 
 
 " What? " cried Turbin, frowning suddenly, " what? 
 . . . You're a baby," he cried, seizing him by the 
 arm, and squeezing it so that the blood rushed to the 
 young man's head, not so much from vexation as from 
 fright. "What is it? Do you want to fight? If so, 
 I am at your service." 
 
 Turbin had scarcely let go of his arm, which he had 
 squeezed so powerfully, when two nobles seized the 
 young man by the sleeve, and carried him off through 
 a back door. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 219 
 
 "What! have you lost your wits? You've surely 
 been drinking too much. We shall have to tell your 
 papa. What's the matter with you? " they asked. 
 
 " No, I haven't been drinking ; but he ran into me, 
 and did not apologize. He's a hog, that's what he 
 is," whined the young man, now actually in tears. 
 
 Nevertheless they paid no attention to him, but 
 carried him off home. 
 
 "Never mind, count," said the ispravnik and Za- 
 valshevsky assuringly. "He's a mere child. They 
 still whip him : he's onl}- sixteen years old. It's hard 
 to tell what is to be done with him. W r hat fly stung 
 him ? And his father is such an honorable man ! He's 
 our candidate." 
 
 " Well, the Devil take him if he refuses "... 
 
 And the count returned to the ballroom, and, as 
 gayly as before, danced the schottische with the pretty 
 little widow, and laughed heartily when he saw the 
 antics of the gentlemen who had come with him out 
 of the library. There was a general burst of merri- 
 ment all through the ballroom when the ispravnik 
 tripped, and measured his length on the floor in the 
 midst of the dancers. 
 
220 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 Anna Fedokovna, while the count was in the library, 
 went to her brother, and, for the very reason of her 
 conviction that she ought to pretend to feel very little 
 interest in the count, she began to question him. 
 
 u Who is this hussar that has been dancing with me? 
 Tell me, brother." 
 
 The cavalryman explained, to the best of his ability, 
 what a great man this hussar was, and in addition he 
 told his sister that the count had stopped there simply 
 because his money had been stolen on the route : he 
 himself had loaned him a hundred rubles, but that was 
 not enough. Couldn't his sister let him have two hun- 
 dred more? Zavalshevsky asked her not to sa} r any 
 thing about this to any one, and, above all, not to the 
 count. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna promised to send the money the 
 next day, and to keep it a secret ; but somehow or 
 other, during the schottische, she had a terrible desire 
 to offer the count as much money as he needed. 
 
 She deliberated, blushed, and at last, mastering her 
 confusion, thus addressed herself to the task : — 
 
 " My brother told me, count, that you had met with 
 a misfortune on the road, and hadn't any money. 
 Now, if you need some, wouldn't 3-011 take some of me? 
 I should be terribly glad." 
 
 But after she had thus spoken, Anna Fedorovna 
 suddenly was overcome with fright, and blushed. All 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 221 
 
 the gayety had instantly vanished from the count's 
 face. 
 
 " Your brother is a fool ! " said he in a cutting tone. 
 " You know, when a man insults a man, then the}' fight 
 a duel ; but when a woman insults a man, then what do 
 they do? Do you know? " 
 
 Poor Anna Fedorovna blushed to her ears with con- 
 fusion. She dropped her eyes, and made no reply. 
 
 "They kiss the woman in public," said the count 
 softly, bending over to whisper in her ear. "Permit 
 me, however, to kiss your little hand," he added 
 almost inaudibly, after a long silence, having some 
 pity on his lady's confusion. 
 
 " Ah ! only not quite yet," urged Anna Fedorovna, 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 "But when, then? To-morrow I am going away 
 early. . . . But realty, you owe it to me." 
 
 ".Well, then, of course it is impossible," said Anna 
 Fedorovna smiling. 
 
 " Only give me a chance to see you before to-mor- 
 row, so that I may kiss your hand. I will find one." 
 
 "How will you find one? " 
 
 "That is my affair. I can do any thing to see 
 you. ... Is it agreed?" 
 
 "Agreed." 
 
 The schottische came to an end; they danced 
 through the mazurka, and in it the count did mar- 
 vels, purloining handkerchiefs, bending on one knee, 
 and clinking his spurs in an extraordinary manner, 
 after the Warsaw style, so that all the old men came 
 from their boston to look into the ballroom ; and the 
 cavalryman who was the best dancer confessed him- 
 self outdone. After they had eaten supper, they 
 danced still the gross vater, and began to disperse. 
 
222 two irrssARS. 
 
 The count nil this time did not take his eyes from 
 the Huh' widow. He bad not been Insincere when be 
 declared his readiness to throw himself into a hole in 
 the Ice. 
 
 Whether it was caprice or love or stubbornness, but 
 that evening all the strength of his mind had been 
 concentrated into one desire, — to see and to love 
 her. 
 
 As soon as he perceived that Anna Fedorovna was 
 taking her farewell of the hostess, he hastened to the 
 servants' quarters, and thence, without his shuba, to 
 the place where the carriages were drawn up. 
 
 " Anna Fedorovna Zaitsova's equipage," he cried. 
 
 A high four-seated carriage with lanterns moved out, 
 and started to drive up to the doorstep. 
 
 44 Stop ! " shouted the count to the coachman, rush- 
 ing up toward the carriage through snow that was 
 knee-deep. 
 
 11 What is wanted?" called the driver. 
 
 44 I want to get into the carriage," replied the 
 count, opening the door as the carriage moved, and 
 trying to climb in. 
 
 "Stop, you devil! stupid! Vaska! 1 stop!" cried 
 the coachman to the postilion, and reining in the 
 horses. u What are you getting into another per- 
 son's carriage for? This belongs to the Lady Anna 
 Fedorovna, and not to } T our grace." 
 
 "Hush up, blockhead! Na! there's a ruble for 
 3'ou ; now come down and shut the door! " said the 
 count. 
 
 But as the coachman did not move, he lifted the 
 steps himself, and, shutting the window, managed to 
 pull the door to. 
 
 1 Diminutive of Vasili. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 223 
 
 In this, as in all ancient carriages, especially those 
 upholstered in 3'ellow galloon, there was an odor of 
 mustiness and burnt bristles. 
 
 r JThe count's legs were wet to the knees from melt- 
 ing snow, and almost freezing in his thin boots and 
 trousers ; and his whole body was penetrated by a 
 cold like that of winter. 
 
 The coachman was grumbling on his box, and seemed 
 to be getting ready to get down. But the count 
 heard nothing and felt nothing. His face was aglow, 
 his heart was beating violently. He convulsively 
 clutched the yellow strap, thrust his head out of the 
 side-window, and his whole being was concentrated in 
 expectation. 
 
 He was not doomed to wait long. At the doorsteps, 
 they shouted, " Zaitsova's carriage ! " The coachman 
 shook his reins, the carriage swung on its high 
 springs ; the lighted windows of the house passed one 
 after another by the carriage-windows. 
 
 '* See here, rogue, if 3*011 tell the lackey that I am 
 here," said the count, thrusting his head through the 
 front window, and addressing the coachman, '-you'll 
 feel my whip ; but if you hold your tongue, I will give 
 you ten rubles more." 
 
 He had scarcely time to close the window, when the 
 carriage shook again still more violently, and then 
 the wheels came to a stop. 
 
 He drew back as far as possible into the corner ; he 
 ceased to breathe ; he even shut his eyes, so appre- 
 hensive was he, lest his passionate expectation should 
 be disappointed. 
 
 The door was opened ; one after the other, with a 
 creak, the steps were let down ; a woman's dress 
 rustled, and the close atmosphere of the carriage was 
 
224 two nussARS. 
 
 impregnated by the odor of jasmine ; a woman's dainty 
 feet harried up the steps, and Anna Fedorovna, brush- 
 ing ftgaiDSt the count's leg with the skirt of her cloak, 
 which was loosely thrown about her, silently, and wjth 
 a deep sigh, took her place on the cushioned seat next 
 him. 
 
 Whether she saw him or not, no one could decide, 
 not even Anna Fedorovna herself: but when he took 
 her hand, and said, " Now I will kiss your little hand 
 anyway," she evinced very little dismay. She said 
 nothing, but let him take her hand, which he covered 
 with kisses, not stopping at the glove. 
 
 The carriage rolled off. 
 
 "Tell me something. You are not angry?" said 
 he to her. 
 
 She silently sank back into her corner, but suddenly, 
 for some reason or other, burst into tears, and let her 
 head fall on his breast. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 225 
 
 VI. 
 
 The newly elected ispravnik, with his company, the 
 cavalryman, and other members of the nobility, had 
 already been listening for some time to the gypsies, 
 and drinking at the new tavern, when the count, in 
 a blue-lined bear-skin shuba which had belonged to 
 Anna Fedorovna's late husband, joined them. 
 
 " Little father, your excellency ! we have almost 
 given up expecting you," said a squint-eyed black 
 gypsy with brilliant teeth, who met him in the entry 
 and divested him of his shuba. "We haven't met 
 since we were at Lebedyan. . . . Stiosha has pined 
 away on account of you." 
 
 Stioshka, a slender young gypsy-girl * with a cherry 
 red bloom on her cinnamon-colored cheeks, with bril- 
 liant deep black eyes, shaded by long eyelashes, also 
 hurried to meet him. 
 
 "Ah! dear little count ! 2 my sweetheart! This is 
 a pleasure," she exclaimed through her teeth, with a 
 joyous smile. 
 
 Ilyushka himself came to greet Turbin, pretending 
 that he was very glad to see him. The old women, 
 the wives, the young girls, hastened to the spot and 
 surrounded the guest. 
 
 One would have said that he was a relative or a god- 
 brother to them. 
 
 Turbin kissed all the young gypsy girls on the lips ; 
 
 1 tsigatiolchka. 2 grafchik! golubchik! 
 
226 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 the old women and the men kissed him on the shoulder 
 or on the hand. 
 
 The gentlemen were also vory glad of the count's 
 arrival ; the more because the festivity, having passed 
 
 its apogee, was now becoming tame ; every one began 
 to feel a sense of satiety. The wine, having lost its 
 exhilarating effect on the nerves, only served to load 
 the stomach. Everybody had discharged the last can- 
 non of his wilduess, and was looking around moodily. 
 All the songs had been sung, and ran in the heads of 
 each, leaving a mere impression of noise and confu- 
 sion. 
 
 Whatever any one did that was strange and wild, 
 the rest began to look upon it as nothing very enter- 
 taining or amusing. 
 
 The ispr&vnik stretched out on the floor in shameless 
 fashion at the feet of some old woman, kicked his leg 
 in the air, and began to cry, — 
 
 4 4 Champagne! . . . The count has come! . . . 
 Champagne ! ... He has come ! . . . Now give us 
 champagne ! . . . I will make a bath of champagne, 
 and swim in it! Gentlemen of the nobility, I love 
 your admirable society ! . . . Stioshka, sing ' The 
 NaiTow Road.' " 
 
 The cavalryman was also very gay, but in a differ- 
 ene fashion. He was sitting in a corner of a sofa 
 with a tall, handsome gypsy, Liubasha ; and with the 
 consciousness that intoxication was beginning to cloud 
 his eyes, he kept blinking them, and swinging his head, 
 and repeating the same words over and over again : 
 he was proposing in a whisper to the gypsy to fly with 
 him somewhere. 
 
 Liubasha, smiling, listened to him as though what 
 he said were very amusing to her, and at the same 
 
TWO IIUSS4RS. 227 
 
 time rather melancholy. Occasionally she cast her 
 glances at her husband, the squint-eyed Sashka, who 
 was standing behind a chair near her. In reply to the 
 cavalryman's declaration of love, she bent over to his 
 ear, and begged him to buy her some perfume and a 
 ribbon without any one knowing it, so that the others 
 should not see it. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried the cavalryman when the count 
 came in. 
 
 The handsome young man, with an expression of 
 anxiety, was walking up and down the room with 
 solicitously steady steps, and humming an air from the 
 M Revolt in the Seraglio." 
 
 An old paterfamilias, dragged Out to see the gyp- 
 sies through the irresistible entreaties of the gentlemen 
 of the nobility, who had told him that if he staid 
 away every thing would go to pieces, and in that case 
 they had better not go, was lying on a sofa where he 
 had stretched himself out immediately on his arrival ; 
 and no one paid any attention to him. 
 
 A chinovnik, who had been there before, had taken 
 off his coat, was sitting with his legs on the table, and 
 was rumpling up his hair, and thus proving that he 
 understoood how to be dissipated. 
 
 As soon as the count came in, the official unbut- 
 toned his shirt-collar, and lifted his legs still higher. 
 The count's arrival generally gave new life to the 
 festivities. 
 
 The gypsy girls, who had been scattered about the 
 room, again formed their circle. The count seated 
 Stioshka, the soloist, on his knee, and ordered more 
 champagne to be brought. Ilyushka, with his guitar, 
 stood in front of the soloist, and began the plyaska, 
 that is, the gypsy song and dance, " When I walk upon 
 
228 two rrussAits. 
 
 the Street," " Hey ! you Hussars," u Do you hear, do 
 you understand?" and others of the usual order. 
 
 Stioshka sang splendidly. Her flexible, sonorous 
 contralto, with its deep chest notes, her smiles while 
 she was singing, be* mischievous, passionate eyes, and 
 her little foot which involuntarily kept time to the 
 measure of the song, her despairing wail at the end of 
 each couplet, — this all touched some resonant but 
 tender chord. It was evident that she lived only in 
 the song that she was singing. 
 
 Illyushka, in his smile, his back, his legs, his whole 
 being, carrying out in pantomime the idea expressed in 
 the song, accompanied it on his guitar, and, fixing his 
 ej'es upon her as though he were hearing her for tiie 
 first time, attentively and carefully lifted and drooped 
 his head with the rhythm of the song. 
 
 Then he suddenly straightened himself up as the 
 singer sang the last note, and, as though he felt him- 
 self superior to every one else in the world, with proud 
 deliberation kicked the guitar, turned it over, stamped 
 his foot, tossed back his locks, and looked at the 
 chorus with a frown. 
 
 All his body, from his neck to his toes, began to 
 dance in every sinew. 
 
 And twenty powerful, energetic voices, each trying 
 to outdo the other in making strange and extraordinary 
 noises, were lifted in union. 
 
 The old women sprang down from their chairs, wav- 
 ing their handkerchiefs, and showing their teeth, and 
 crying in rhythmic measure, each louder than the other. 
 The bassos, leaning their heads on one side, and swell- 
 ing their necks, bellowed from behind their chairs. 
 
 When Stioshka emitted her high notes, Ilyushka 
 brought his guitar nearer to her as though trying to 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 229 
 
 aid her; and the handsome young man, in his enthu- 
 siasm, cried out that now they struck B-flat. 
 
 When they came to the national dance, the Plyaso- 
 vaya, and Duniasha, with shoulders and bosom shaking, 
 stepped in front of the count, and was passing on, 
 Turbin leaped from his place, took off his uniform, 
 and, remaining only in his red shirt, boldly joined her, 
 keeping up the same measure, and cutting with his feet 
 such antics, that the gypsies laughed and exchanged 
 glances of approval. 
 
 The ispravnik, who was sitting Turkish fashion, 
 pounded his chest with his fist, and cried " Vivat! " and 
 then, seizing the count by the leg, began to tell him 
 that out of two thousand rubles, he had only five hun- 
 dred left and that he might do whatever he pleased, if 
 only the count would permit him. 
 
 The old paterfamilias woke up, and wanted to go 
 home, but they would not let him. The handsome 
 young man asked a gypsy girl to waltz with him. The 
 cavalryman, anxious to exalt himself by his friendship 
 with the count, got up from his corner, and embraced 
 Turbin. "Ah, my turtle-dove!" he cried. "Why 
 must you leave us so soon? ha? " The count said noth- 
 ing, being evidently absorbed in thought. "Where 
 did you go? Ah, }'ou rascal, I know where you 
 went ! ' ' 
 
 This familiarity somehow displeased the Count Tur- 
 bin. Without smiling, he looked in silence into the 
 cavalryman's face, and suddenly gave him such a ter- 
 rible and grievous affront that the cavalryman was 
 mortified, and for some time did not know what to make 
 of such an insult, whether it were a joke or not a joke. 
 At last he made up his mind that it was a joke ; he 
 smiled, and returned to his gypsy, assuring her that 
 he would really marry her after Easter. 
 
230 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 Another song was sung, a third, thoy danced Again ; 
 
 the round of gayety was kept up, and every one 
 continued to feel gay. There was no end to the 
 champagne* 
 
 The count drank a great deal. II is eyes seemed to 
 grow rather moist, but he did not grow dizzy ; he 
 danced still better than the rest, spoke without any 
 thickness, and even joined in a chorus, and supported 
 Stioshka when she sang " The sweet emotion of 
 friendship." 
 
 In the midst of the dance and song the merchant, 
 who kept the hotel, came to beg the guests to go home, 
 as it was three o'clock in the morning. 
 
 The count took the landlord by the throat, and 
 ordered him to dance the prisiadka. The merchant 
 refused. The count snatched a bottle of champagne, 
 and standing the merchant on his head ordered him to 
 stay so, and then amid general hilarity poured the 
 whole bottle over him. 
 
 The dawn was already breaking. All were pale and 
 weary except the count. 
 
 " At all events, I must go to Moscow," said he, 
 suddenly rising. " Come with me, all of you, to my 
 room, children. . . . See me off, and let us have some 
 tea." 
 
 All accompanied him with the exception of the 
 sleeping proprietor, who still remained there ; they 
 piled into three sledges that were waiting at the door, 
 and drove off to the hotel. 
 
TWO nUSSARS. 23 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Have the horses put in ! " cried the count, as he 
 entered the sitting-room of the hotel with all his friends 
 including the gypsies. 
 
 " Sashka, — not the gypsy Sashka, but mine, — tell 
 the superintendent that if the horses are poor I will 
 flog him. Now give us some tea. Zavalshevsky, make 
 some tea ; I am going to Ilyin's ; I want to find how 
 things have gone with him," added Turbin; and he 
 went out into the corridor, and directed his steps to the 
 uhlan's room. 
 
 Ilyin was just through playing, and, having lost all 
 his money down to his last kopek, had thrown himself 
 face down on the worn-out haircloth sofa, and was 
 picking the hairs out one by one, sticking them in his 
 mouth, biting them into two, and spitting them out 
 again. 
 
 Two tallow candles, one of which was already burnt 
 down to the paper, stood on the card-cluttered ombre- 
 table, and mingled their feeble ra} T s with the morning 
 light which was beginning to shine through the window. 
 
 The uhlan's mind was vacant of all thought : that 
 strange thick fog of the gambling-passion muffled all 
 the capabilities of his mind so that there was not even 
 room for regret. 
 
 Once he endeavored to think what was left for him 
 to do, how he should get away without a kopek, how 
 he should pay back the fifteen thousand rubles of 
 
TWO BU88AM8. 
 
 public money that be bad lost in gambling, what his 
 colonel would say, what his mother would say, what 
 his comrades would say; and such fear name over him, 
 and such disgust at himself, that, iu his anxiety to 
 rid himself of the thought of it, he arose and began 
 to walk up and down through the room, trying only to 
 walk on the cracks of the floor ; and then once more 
 hi' began to recall all the least details of the evening. 
 
 He vividly imagined that he was winning the whole 
 back again : he takes a nine, and lays down a king of 
 spades on two thousand rubles; a queen lies at the 
 right, at the left an ace, at the right a king of dia- 
 monds — and all was lost ! but if he had had a six at 
 the right and a king of diamonds at the left, then he 
 would have won it all back, he would have staked all 
 again on P, and would have won back his fifteen thou- 
 sand rubles, then he would have bought a good pacer 
 of the colonel, an extra pair of horses, and a phaeton. 
 And what else besides? Ah! indeed it would have 
 been a splendid, splendid thing! 
 
 Again he threw himself down on the sofa, and began 
 to bite the hairs once more. 
 
 "Why are they singing songs in No. 7?" he won- 
 dered. " It must be, they are having a jollification in 
 Turbin's room. I'm of a good mind to go there, and 
 have a little drink." 
 
 Just at this moment the count came in. 
 
 "Well, have you been losing, brother, hey?" he 
 cried. 
 
 " I will pretend to be asleep, otherwise I shall have 
 to talk with him, and I really want to sleep now." 
 
 Nevertheless Turbin went up to him, and laid his 
 hand caressingly on his head. . . . "Well, my dear 
 little friend, have you been losing? have you had bad 
 luck? Tell me." 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 233 
 
 Ilyin made no reply. 
 
 The count took him by the arm. 
 
 " I have been losing. What is it to you ? " muttered 
 Ilyin, in a sleepy voice expressing indifference and 
 vexation ; he did not change his position. 
 
 "Every thing?" 
 
 "Well, yes. What harm is there in it? AH!. 
 What is it to you?" 
 
 " Listen: tell me the truth, as to a comrade," said 
 the count, who, under the influence of the wine that 
 he had been drinking, was disposed to be tender, and 
 continued to smooth the other's hair. " You know I 
 have taken a fancy to you. Tell me the truth. If 
 you have lost the public money, I will help you ; if 
 you don't, it will be too late. . . . Was it public 
 money?" 
 
 Ilyin leaped up from the sofa. 
 
 " If you wish me to tell you, don't speak to me so, 
 because . . . and I beg of you don't speak to me . . . 
 I will blow my brains out — that's the only thing that's 
 left for me now ! " he exclaimed with genuine despair, 
 letting his head sink into his hands, and bursting into 
 tears, although but the moment before he had been 
 calmly thinking about his horses. 
 
 "EkJi! you're a pretty young girl! Well, who 
 might not have the same thing happen to him? It 
 isn't as bad as it might be ; perhaps we can straighten 
 things out : wait for me here." 
 
 The count hastened from the room. 
 
 "Where is the pomyeshchik 1 Lukhnof's room?" he 
 demanded of the hall-boy. 
 
 The hall-boy offered to show the count the way. 
 The count in spite of the objections of the lackey, 
 
 1 Landed proprietor. 
 
234 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 who said that his master had only just come in and 
 was preparing to retire, entered the room. 
 
 Lukhnof in his dressing-gown was sitting in front 
 of a table, counting over a number of packages of 
 bank-notes piled op before him. On the table was a 
 bottle of Rheinwein, of which he was very fond. He 
 had procured himself this pleasure from his winnings. 
 
 Coldly, sternly, Lukhnof looked at the count over 
 his glasses, affecting not to recognize him. 
 
 4k It seems that you do not know me," said the 
 count, proceeding toward the table with resolute steps. 
 
 Lukhnof recognized the count, and asked, — 
 
 44 What is your pleasure? " 
 
 " I wish to play with you," said Turbin, sitting down 
 on the sofa. 
 
 44 Now?" 
 
 44 Yes." 
 
 44 Another time I should be most happy, count; but 
 now I am tired, and am getting ready to go to bed. 
 Won't you have some wine? It is excellent wine." 
 
 4 ' But I wish to play with you for a little while now." 
 
 44 1 am not prepared to play any more. Maybe 
 some of the other guests will. I will not, count! I 
 beg of you to excuse me." 
 
 44 Then you will not?" 
 
 Lukhnof shrugged his shoulders as though to ex- 
 press his regret at not being able to fulfil the count's 
 desires. 
 
 kt Will you not play under any consideration? " 
 
 The same gesture. 
 
 44 I am very desirous of playing with you. . . . Say, 
 will you play, or not?" 
 
 Silence. 
 
 44 Will you play ? " asked the count a second time. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 235 
 
 The same silence, and a quick glance over his glasses 
 at the count's face, which was beginning to grow 
 sinister. 
 
 " Will you play?" cried the count in a loud voice, 
 striking his hand on the table so violently that the 
 bottle of Rheinwein toppled over and the wine ran out. 
 "You have been cheating, have you not? Will you 
 play? I ask you the third time." 
 
 11 1 have told you, no ! This is truly strange, count, 
 . . . perfectly unjustifiable, to come this way, and put 
 your knife at a man's throat," remarked Lukhnof, not 
 lifting his eyes. 
 
 A brief silence followed, during which the count's 
 face grew paler and paler. Suddenly Lukhnof received 
 a terrible blow on the head, which stunned him. He 
 fell back on the divan, trying to grasp the money, and 
 screamed in a penetratingly despairing tone, such as 
 was scarcely to be expected from him, he was always 
 so calm and imposing in his deportment. 
 
 Turbin gathered up the remaining bank-notes that 
 were lying on the table, pushed away the servant who 
 had come to his master's assistance, and with quick 
 steps left the room. 
 
 tw If 3'ou wish satisfaction, I am at your service; I 
 shall be in my room for half an hour yet, — No. 7," 
 added the count, turning back as he reached the door. 
 
 "Villain! thief!" cried a voice from within the 
 room. . . . " I will have satisfaction at law!" 
 
 Ilyin, who had not paid any heed to the count's 
 promise to help him, was still lying on the sofa in his 
 room, drowned in tears of despair. 
 
 The count's caresses and sympathy had awakened 
 him to a consciousness of the reality, and now, amidst 
 the fog of strange thoughts and recollections which 
 filled his mind, it made itself more and more felt. 
 
230 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 His youth, rich in hopes, honor, his social position, 
 the dreams of love and friendship, were all destroyed 
 forever. The fountain of his tears began to run dry, 
 a too calm feeling of hopelessness took possession of 
 him; and the thought of suicide, now bringing no 
 sense of repulsion or terror, more and more frequently 
 recurred to him. 
 
 At this moment the count's firm steps were heard. 
 
 On Turbiu'8 face were still visible the last traces of 
 his recent wrath, his hands trembled slightly ; but in 
 his eyes shone a kindly gayety and self-satisfaction. 
 
 44 There ! It has been won back for you!' * he 
 cried, tossing upon the table several packages of bank- 
 notes. " Count them ; are they all there? Then come 
 as soon as possible to the sitting-room ; I am going 
 off right away," he added, as though he did not per- 
 ceive the tremendous revulsion of joy and gratefulness 
 which rushed over the uhlan's face. Then, humming 
 a gypsy song, he left the room. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. ' 237 
 
 VIII. 
 
 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 
 b} r his gypsy maiden. The ispravnik 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 barin. 
 
 For the most part, the last spark of the orgy was 
 dying out. 
 
 44 Well, then, one more song for a farewell, and then 
 
238 two nussARS. 
 
 home with you," exclaimed the count, fresh, gay, and 
 radiant above all the others, as be 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 bauk-uotes in his hand, and drew the count 
 to one side. 
 
 M 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." 
 
 M 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. 
 
 u 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 
 ispravnik, 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 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 239 
 
 troikas, 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, Stiosha, Ilyushka, and Sashka the count's 
 man, 1 mounted the first sledge. 
 
 Bliicher was beside himself with delight, and, wag- 
 ging 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 troikas, with the songs and jingling bells, dashed 
 through the whole length of the city to the gates, com- 
 pelling 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 astonish- 
 ment to see nobles of high rank, in the midst of " the 
 white day," dashing through the streets with intoxi- 
 cated gypsies, singing at the tops of their voices. 
 
 When they reached the city limits, the troikas 
 stopped, and all the party took farewell of the count. 
 
 Ilyin, who had drunk considerable at the leave-tak- 
 ing, and had all the time been driving the horses, sud- 
 denly 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 him- 
 self into his arms, and began to kiss his new friend, 
 and promised hiin 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, 
 
 1 detishchik. 
 
240 TWO IIUSSARS. 
 
 had definitely taken to saying thou to him ; he set 
 Bliicher on the ispnivnik ; he took Stioshka into his 
 arms, and threatened to carry her off with him to Mos- 
 cow ; but at last he tucked himself into the sledge, and 
 stationed Bliicher 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 couut's cloak 
 from them, and to send it to him. The count cried 
 "Go on," 1 took off his cap, waved it over his head, 
 and whistled in post-boy fashion to the horses. The 
 troikas parted company. 
 
 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 melt- 
 ing snow, which was covered with a thin crust of trans- 
 parent ice, and pleasantly warmed the face and back. 
 
 The steam arose from the sweaty horses. The bells 
 jingled. 
 
 A peasant 2 with a creaking sledge, heavily loaded, 
 slowly turned out into the slushy snow, twitching his 
 hempen reins, and tramping with his well-soaked 
 sabots. 8 
 
 A stout, handsome peasant woman, with a child 
 wrapped in a sheepskin 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 troika again passed the city 
 gate, and quickly drew up in front of the boarded steps 
 of the Zaitsova dwelling.   
 
 1 proshol. * muzhik. s lapti. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 241 
 
 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. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna awoke from her slumber, and 
 demanded, u What has happened? " 
 
 The count took his seat in his sledge, shouted to the 
 driver, and now no longer delaying, and thinking not 
 of Lukhnof nor of the little widow, nor of Stioshka, 
 but only of what was awaiting him in Moscow, rapidly 
 left the city of K. behind him. 
 
242 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 IX. 
 
 A score of years have passed. Much water has run 
 since then, many men have died, many children have 
 been l>orn, many have grown up and become old; still 
 more thoughts have been born and perished. Much 
 that was beautiful and much that was ugly in the past 
 haVe disappeared ; much that is beautiful in the new 
 has l>een brought forth, and still more that is incom- 
 plete and abortive of the new has appeared in God's 
 world. 
 
 Count Feodor Turbin was long ago killed in a duel 
 with some foreigner whom he struck on the street with 
 his long whip. His son, who was as like him as two 
 drops of water, had already reached the age of two or 
 three and twenty, and was a lovely fellow, already 
 serving in the cavalry. 
 
 Morally the young Count Turbin was entirely differ- 
 ent from his father. There was not a shadow of those 
 fiery, passionate, and in truth be it said, corrupt incli- 
 nations, peculiar to the last century. 
 
 Together with intelligence, cultivation, and inherited 
 natural gifts, a love for the proprieties and amenities 
 of life, a practical view of men and circumstances, 
 wisdom and forethought, were his chief characteristics. 
 
 The young count made admirable progress in his 
 profession ; at twenty-three he was already lieutenant. 
 . . . When war broke out, he came to the conclusion 
 that it would be more for his interests to enter the 
 
TWO nUSSARS. 243 
 
 regular army ; and he joined a regiment of hussars as 
 captain of cavalry, where he soon was given command 
 of a battalion. 
 
 In the month of Ma} T , 1848, the S. regiment of hus- 
 sars was on its way through the government of K., 
 and the very battalion which the young Count Turbin 
 commanded was obliged to be quartered for one night 
 at Morozovka, Anna Fedorovna's village. Anna Fed- 
 orovna was still alive, but was now so far from being 
 young that she no longer called herself young, which, 
 for a woman, means much. 
 
 She had grown very stout, and this, it is said, restores 
 youth in a woman. But that was not the worst of it : 
 over her pale, stout flesh was a net-work of coarse, 
 flabby wrinkles. She no longer went to the city, she 
 even found it hard to mount into her carriage ; but still 
 she was just as good-natured and as completely vacant- 
 minded as ever, — the truth might safely be told, now 
 that it was no longer palliated by her beauty. 
 
 Under her roof lived her daughter Liza, a rustic 
 Russian belle of twenty-three summers, and her brother, 
 our acquaintance the cavalryman, who had spent all his 
 patrimony in behalf of others, and now, in his old age, 
 had taken refuge with Anna Fedorovna. 
 
 The hair on his head had become perfectly gray ; his 
 upper lip was sunken, but the mustache that it wore 
 was carefully dyed. Wrinkles covered not only his 
 brow and cheeks, but also his nose and neck ; and yet 
 his weak bow-legs gave evidence of the old cavalryman. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna's whole family and household were 
 gathered in the small parlor of the ancient house. The 
 balcony door and windows, looking out into a star- 
 shaped garden shaded by lindens, were open. Anna 
 Fedorovna, in her gray hair and a lilac-colored gown, 1 
 
 1 katsave'ika. 
 
21 I TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 was sitting on the sofa, before a small round mahog- 
 any table, shuffling cards. The < > 1* I brother, dressed in 
 
 spruce white pantaloons and a blue coat, had taken up 
 his position near the window, knitting strips of white 
 cotton on a fork, an occupation which his niece had 
 taught him, and which gave him great enjoyment, as 
 he had nothing else to do, his eyes not being strong 
 enough to enable him to read newspapers, which was 
 his favorite occupation. Near him Pimotchka, a pro- 
 t&jie of Anna Fedorovna, was studying her lessons 
 under the guidance of Liza, who with wooden knit- 
 ting-needles was knitting stockings of goat-wool for 
 her uncle. 
 
 The last rays of the setting sun, as always at this 
 time, threw under the linden alley their soft reflections 
 on the last window-panes and the little ttag&re which 
 stood near it. 
 
 In the garden it was so still that one could hear the 
 swift rush of a swallow's wings, and so quiet in the 
 room that Anna Fedorovna's gentle sigh, or the old 
 man's cough as he kept changing the position of his 
 legs, was the only sound. 
 
 " How does this go, Lizanka? show me, please. I 
 keep forgetting," said Anna Fedorovna, pausing in the 
 midst of her game of patience. Liza, without stop- 
 ping her work, went over to her mother, and, glancing 
 at the cards, "Ah!" says she. "You have mixed 
 them all up, dear mamasha," said she, arranging the 
 cards. " That is the way they should be placed. Now 
 they come as you desired," she added, secretly with- 
 drawing one card. 
 
 " Now you are always managing to deceive me ! 
 You said that it would go." 
 
 " No, truly ; it goes, I assure you. It has come out 
 right." 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 245 
 
 " Very well, then ; very well, you rogue ! But isn't 
 it time for tea? " 
 
 "I have just ordered the samovar heated. I will 
 go and see about it immediately. Shall we have it 
 brought here? . . . Now, Pimotchka, hasten and fin- 
 ish your lessons, and we will go and take a run." 
 
 And Liza started for the door. 
 
 " Lizotehka ! Lizanka ! " cried her uncle, steadfastly 
 regarding his fork, "again it seems to me I have 
 dropped a stitch. Arrange it for me, nry darling." 1 
 
 "In a moment, in a moment. First I must have 
 the sugar broken up." 
 
 And in point of fact, within three minutes, she came 
 running into the room, went up to her uncle, and took 
 him by the ear. 
 
 " That's to pay you for dropping stitches," said she 
 laughing. "You have not been knitting as I taught 
 you." 
 
 " Now, that'll do, that'll do, adjust it for me ; there 
 seems to be some sort of a knot." 
 
 Liza took the fork, pulled out a pin from her ker- 
 chief, which was blown back a little by the breeze 
 coming through the window, picked it out a couple of 
 times, and handed it back to her uncle. 
 
 " Now you must kiss me for that," said she, putting 
 up her rosy cheek toward him, and re-adjusting her 
 kerchief. " You shall have rum in your tea to-day. 
 To-day is Friday, you see." 
 
 And again she went to the tea-room. 
 
 "Uncle dear, come and look! some hussars are 
 riding up toward the house ! ' ' her ringing voice was 
 heard to say. Anna Fedorovna and her brother 
 hastened into the tea-room, the windows of which 
 
 golubchik. 
 
24 G TWO nUSSARS. 
 
 faced the village, and looked at the hussars. Very 
 little was to be Been; through the cloud of dust it 
 could be judged only that a body of men was advan- 
 cing. 
 
 " What a pity, sister," remarked the uncle to Anna 
 Fedorovna, " what a pity that we are so cramped, and 
 the wing is not built yet, so that we might invite the 
 officers here. Officers of the hussars ! they are such 
 glorious, gay young fellows ! I should like to have a 
 glimpse at them." 
 
 u Well, I should be heartily glad, but you know 
 yourself that there is nowhere to put them : my sleep- 
 ing-room, Liza's room, the parlor, and then your room, 
 — judge for yourself. Mikh&ilo Matveef has put the 
 stdrosta's * house in order for them ; he says it will be 
 nice there." 
 
 44 But we must find j'ou a husband, Lizotchka,- 
 among them, — a glorious hussar!" said the uncle. 
 
 "No, I do not want a hussar: I want an uhlan. 
 Let me see, you served among the uhlans, didn't you, 
 uncle? . . . I don't care to know these hussars. They 
 say they are desperate fellows." 
 
 And Liza blushed a little, and then once more her 
 ringing laugh was heard. ''There's Ustiushka run- 
 ning: we must ask her what she saw," said she. 
 Anna Fedorovna sent to have Ustiushka brought in. 
 
 " She has no idea of sticking to her work, she must 
 always be running off to look at the soldiers," said 
 Anna Fedorovna. . . . " Now, where have they lodged 
 the officers? " 
 
 " With the Yeremkins, your ladyship. There are 
 two of them, such lovely men ! One of them is a 
 count, they tell me." 
 
 i Village elder. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. . 247 
 
 •« What's his name?" 
 • " Kaz&rof or Turbinof . I don't remember, excuse 
 me." 
 
 "There now, you're a goose, you don't know how 
 to tell any thing at all. You might have remembered 
 his name ! " 
 
 " Well, I'll run and find out." 
 
 14 1 know that you are quite able to do that. But 
 no, let Danilo go. — Brother, go and tell him to go ; 
 have him ask if there is not something which the 
 officers may need ; every thing must be done in good 
 form ; have them understand that it is the lady of the 
 house who has sent to find out." 
 
 The old people sat down again in the tea-room, and 
 Liza went to the servants' room to put the lumps of 
 sugar in the sugar-bowl. Ustiushka was telling them 
 there about the hussars. 
 
 14 O my dear young lady, what a handsome man he 
 is! that count! " she said, " absolutely a little cheru- 
 bim, 1 with black eyebrows. You ought to have such a 
 husband as that ; what a lovely little couple you would 
 make!" The other maids smiled approvingly; the 
 old nurse, sitting by the window with her stocking, 
 sighed, and, drawing a long breath, murmured a prayer. 
 
 "It seems to me that the hussars have given you 
 a great deal of pleasure," said Liza. "You aie a 
 master hand at description. Bring me the mors, 2 
 Ustiushka, please ; we must give the officers something 
 sour to drink." And Liza, laughing, went out with 
 the sugar-bowl. 
 
 " But I should like to see what sort of a man this 
 hussar is, — whether he is brunet or blondin. And I 
 imagine he would not object to making our aequaint- 
 
 1 kherubimchik. 2 A sour beverage made of cranberries. 
 
248 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 anco. But he will go away, and never know that I 
 was here and was thinking about him. And how 
 many have passed by me in this way ! No one ever 
 sees me except uncle and Ustiusha ! How many times 
 I have arranged my hair, how many pairs of cuffs I 
 have put on, and yet no one ever sees me or falls in 
 love with me," she thought with a sigh, contemplating 
 her white, plump hand. 
 
 w He must be tall, and have big eyes, and a nice 
 little black mustache. . . . No! I am already over 
 twenty-two, and no one has ever fallen in love with 
 me except the pock-marked Ivan Ipiituitch. And four 
 years ago I was still better-looking ; and so my girl- 
 hood has gone, and no one is the better for it. Ah ! I 
 am an unhappy country maiden ! " 
 
 Her mother's voice, calling her to bring the tea, 
 aroused the country maiden from this momentary 
 revery. 
 
 She shook her little head, and went into the tea- 
 room. 
 
 The best things always happen unexpectedly ; and 
 the more you try to force them, the worse they come 
 out. In the country it is rare that any attempt is 
 made to impart education, and therefore when a good 
 one is found it is generally a surprise. And thus it 
 happened, in a notable degree, in the case of Liza. 
 Anna Fedorovna, through her own lack of intelligence 
 and natural laziness, had not given Liza an} r educa- 
 tion at all ; had not taught her music, nor the French 
 language which is so indispensable. But the girl had 
 fortunately been a healthy, bright little child : she had 
 intrusted her to a wet-nurse and a day-nurse ; she 
 had fed her, and dressed her in print dresses and goat- 
 skin shoes, and let her run wild and gather mushrooms 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 249 
 
 and berries ; had her taught reading and arithmetic by 
 a resident seminarist. And thus, as fate would have 
 it, at the age of sixteen, she found in her daughter a 
 companion, a soul who was always cheerful and good- 
 natured, and the actual mistress of the house. 
 
 Through her goodness of heart, Anna Fedorovna 
 always had in her house some protegee, either a serf 
 or some foundling. Liza, from the time she was ten 
 years old, had begun to take care of them ; to teach 
 them, clothe them, take them to church, and keep them 
 still when they were inclined to be mischievous. 
 
 Then her old broken-down but good-natured uncle 
 made his appearance, and he had to be taken care of 
 like a child. Then the domestic servants and the 
 peasants began to come to the young mistress with 
 their desires and their ailments ; and she treated them 
 with elderberry, mint, and spirits of camphor. Then 
 the domestic management of the house fell into her 
 hands entirely. Then came the unsatisfied craving 
 for love, which found expression only in nature and 
 religion. 
 
 Thus Liza, by chance, grew into an active, good- 
 naturedly cheerful, self-poised, pure, and deeply reli- 
 gious young woman. 
 
 To be sure, she had her little fits of jealousy and 
 envy when she saw, all around her in church, her 
 neighbors dressed in new, fashionable hats that came 
 from K. ; she was sometimes vexed to tears by her 
 old, irritable mother, and her caprices ; she had her 
 dreams of love in the most absurd and even the 
 crudest forms, but her healthy activity, which she 
 could not shirk, drove them away ; and now, at twenty- 
 two, not a single spot, not a single compunction, 
 had touched the fresh, calm soul of this maiden, now 
 
250 TWO IWSSARS. 
 
 developed into the fulness of perfect physical and moral 
 beauty. 
 
 Liza was of medium height, rather plump than leau ; 
 her eyes were brown, small, with a soft dark shade on 
 the lower lid ; she wore her llaxen hair in a long braid. 
 
 In walking she took long 'steps, and swayed like a 
 duck, as the saying is. 
 
 The expression of her face, when she was occupied 
 with her duties, and nothing especially disturbed her, 
 seemed to say to all who looked into it, " Life in this 
 world is good and pleasant to one who has a heart full 
 of love, and a pure conscience." 
 
 Even in moments of vexation, of trouble, of unrest, 
 or of melancholy, in spite of her tears, of the draw- 
 ing-down of the left brow, of the compressed lips, of 
 the petulance of her desires, even then in the dimples 
 of her cheeks, in the corners of her mouth, and in her 
 brilliant eyes, so used to smile and rejoice in life, — 
 even then there shone a heart good and upright, and 
 unspoiled by knowledge. 
 
TWO HUSSABS. 251 
 
 X. 
 
 It was still rather warm, though the sun was already 
 set, when the battalion arrived at Morozovka. In 
 front of them, along the dusty village street, trotted a 
 brindled cow, separated from the herd, bellowing, and 
 occasionally stopping to look round, and never once 
 perceiving that all she had to do was to turn out and 
 let the battalion pass. 
 
 Peasants, old men, women, children, and domestic 
 serfs, crowding both sides of the road, gazed curiously 
 at the hussars. 
 
 Through a thick cloud of dust the hussars rode 
 along on raven-black horses, curvetting and occasion- 
 ally snorting. 
 
 At the right of the battalion, gracefully mounted on 
 beautiful black steeds, rode two officers. One was the 
 commander, Count Turbin ; the other a very young 
 man, who had recently been promoted from the 
 yunkers ; his name was Polozof . 
 
 A hussar, in a white kittel, came from the best of 
 the cottages, and, taking off his cap, approached the 
 officers. 
 
 u What quarters have been assigned to us? " asked 
 the count. 
 
 "For your excellency? " replied the quartermaster, 
 his whole body shuddering. " Here at the stdrosta's; 
 he has put his cottage in order. I tried to get a room 
 
252 TWO nUSSARS. 
 
 at the mansion, 1 but they said no ; the proprietress is 
 so ill-tempered." 
 
 u Well, all right," said the count, dismounting and 
 stretching his legs as he reached the stdrosta's cot- 
 tage. " Tell me, has my carriage come? " 
 
 " It has deigned to arrive, your excellency," replied 
 the quartermaster, indicating with his cap the leathern 
 carriage-top which was to be seen inside the gate, and 
 then hastening ahead into the entry of the cottage, 
 which was crowded with the family of serfs, gathered 
 to have a look at the officer. 
 
 He even tripped over an old woman, as he hastily 
 opened the door of the neatly cleaned cottage, and 
 stood aside to let the count pass. 
 
 The cottage was large and commodious, but not per- 
 fectly clean. The German bodj'-servant, 2 dressed like 
 a barin, was standing in the cottage, and, having just 
 finished setting up the iron bed, was taking out clean 
 linen from a trunk. 
 
 " Phut what a nasty lodging!" exclaimed the 
 count in vexation. " Diadenko ! Is it impossible to 
 find me better quarters at the proprietor's or some- 
 where? " 
 
 " If your excellency command, I will go up to the 
 mansion," replied Diadenko ; " but the house is small 
 and wretched, and seems not much better than the 
 cottage." 
 
 " "Well, that's all now. You can go." 
 
 And the count threw himself down on the bed, 
 supporting his head with his hands. 
 
 " Johann ! " he cried to his body-servant; u again 
 you have made a hump in the middle. Why can't you 
 learn to make a bed decently? " 
 
 1 bar sky dvar. * kammerdiener. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 253 
 
 Johann was anxious to make it over again. 
 
 "No, you need not trouble about it now! . . . 
 Where's my dressing-gown?" he proceeded to ask in 
 a petulant voice. The servant gave him the dressing- 
 gown. 
 
 The count, before he put it on, examined the skirt. 
 "There it is! You have not taken that spot out! 
 Could it be possible for any one to be a worse servant 
 than you are? " he added, snatching the garment from 
 the servant's hands, and putting it on. " Now tell 
 me, do }'ou do this way on purpose? Is tea ready? " 
 
 u I haven't had time to make it," replied Johann. 
 
 "Fool!" 
 
 After this, the count took a French novel which was 
 at hand, and read for gome time without speaking ; 
 but Johann went out into the entry to blow up the coals 
 in the samovar. 
 
 It was plain to see that the count was in a bad 
 humor ; it must have been owing to weariness, to the 
 dust on his face, to his tightly-fitting clothes, and to 
 his empty stomach. " Johann ! " he cried again, " give 
 me an account of those ten rubles. What did you get 
 in town ? ' ' 
 
 The count looked over the account which the ser- 
 vant handed him, and made some dissatisfied remarks 
 about the high prices paid. 
 
 " Give me the rum for the tea." 
 
 " I did not get any rum," said Johann. 
 
 " Delightful ! How many times have I told you 
 always to have rum ? ' ' 
 
 " I didn't have money enough." 
 
 " Why didn't Polozof buy it? You might have got 
 some from his man." 
 
 " The cornet Polozof? I do not know. He bought 
 tea and sugar." 
 
254 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 "Beast! Get you gone. You arc the only man 
 who bus the power to exhaust my patience ! You 
 know that I always take rum in my tea when I am on 
 the inarch." 
 
 11 Here are two letters one of the staff brought for 
 you," said the body-servant. 
 
 The count, as he lay on the bed, tore open the letters, 
 and began to read them. At this moment the cornet 
 came in with gay countenance, having quartered the 
 battalion. 
 
 ""Well, how is it, Turbin? It's first-rate here, 
 seems to me. I am tired out, I confess it. It has 
 been a warm day." 
 
 "First-rate! I should think so! A dirty, stinking 
 hut ! and no rum, thanks to you. Your stupid did not 
 buy any, nor this one either. You might have said 
 something anyway ! " 
 
 And he went on with his reading. After he had 
 read the letter through, he crumpled it up, and threw 
 it on the floor. 
 
 M Wliy didn't you buy some rum? " the cornet in a 
 whisper demanded of his servant in the entry. " Didn't 
 you have any money? " 
 
 " Well, why should we be always the ones to spend 
 the money? I have enough to spend for without that, 
 and his German does nothing but smoke his pipe, — 
 that's all." 
 
 The second letter was evidently not disagreeable, 
 because the count smiled as he read it. 
 
 "Who's that from ?" asked Polozof, returning to 
 the room, and trying to arrange for himself a couch 
 on the floor, near the oven. 
 
 " From Mina," replied the count gayly, handing 
 him the letter. " Would you like to read it? " What 
 
TWO IJUSSAR8. 255 
 
 a lovely woman she is ! Now, she's better than our 
 young ladies, that's a fact. Just see what feeling and 
 what wit in that letter ! There's only one thing that I 
 don't like, — she asks me for money ! " 
 
 " No, that's not pleasant," replied the cornet. 
 
 "Well it's true I promised to give her some ; but 
 this expedition — And besides, if I am commander 
 of the battalion, at the end of three months I will send 
 some to her. I should not regret it ; she's really a 
 lovely woman. Isn't she?" he asked with a smile, 
 following with his eyes Polozof 's expression as he read 
 the letter. 
 
 " Horribly misspelled, but sweet ; it seems to me she 
 really loves you," replied the cornet. 
 
 M Hm ! I should think so J Only these women truly 
 love when they do love." 
 
 " But who was that other letter from?" asked the 
 comet,, pointing to the one which he had read. 
 
 tk That? Oh, that's from a certain man, very ugly, 
 to whom I owe a gambling debt, and this is the third 
 time that he has reminded me of it. I can't pay it to 
 him now. It's a stupid letter," replied the count, evi- 
 dently nettled by the recollection of it. 
 
 The two officers remained silent for some little time. 
 The cornet, who, it seemed, had come under Turbin's 
 influence, drank his tea without speaking, though he 
 occasionally cast a glance at the clouded face of the 
 handsome count, who gazed steadily out of the window. 
 He did not venture to renew the conversation. 
 
 " Well, then, I think it can be accomplished without 
 difficulty," suddenly exclaimed the count, turning to 
 Polozof, and gayty nodding his head. "If we who are 
 in the line get promoted this year, yes, and if we take 
 part in some engagement, then I can overtake my 
 former captains of the guard." 
 
256 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 Thcv were drinking their second cup of tea, and the 
 conversation was still dwelling on this theme, when 
 the old Danilo came with the message from Anna 
 Fedorovna. 
 
 44 And she would also like to know whether you are 
 not pleased to be the son of Feodor Ivanovitch 
 Turbin," he added, on his own responsibility, as he 
 had found out the officer's name, and still remem- 
 bered the late count's visit to the city of K. " Our 
 mistress, 1 Anna Fedorovna, used to be very well 
 acquainted with him." 
 
 4 'He was my father. Now tell the lady that I am 
 very much obliged, but that I need nothing ; only, if it 
 would not be possible to give me a cleaner room in the 
 mansion, say, or somewhere." 
 
 44 Now, why did you do that? " asked Polozof after 
 Danilo had gone. 44 Isn't it just the same thing? For 
 one night isn't it just as well here? And it will put 
 them to inconvenience." 
 
 44 There it is again ! It seems to me we have had 
 enough of being sent round among these smoky hovels.' 2 
 It's eas} r enough to see that you are not a practical 
 man. Why shouldn't we seize the opportunity, when 
 we can, of sleeping, even if it's for only one night, like 
 decent men? And they, contrary to what you think, 
 will be mighty glad. There's only one thing objection- 
 able. If this lad} 7 used to know my father," continued 
 the count, with a smile that discovered his white gleam- 
 ing teeth, — 44 somehow I always feel a little ashamed 
 of my late papasha ; there's always some scandalous 
 story, or some debt or other. And so I can't endure 
 to meet any of my father's acquaintances. However, 
 that was an entirely different age," he added seriously. 
 
 1 bdruinya. 2 kurnaya izba, a peasant's hut without chimney. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 257 
 
 "Oh! I did not tell you," rejoined Tolozof. "I 
 recently met Ilyin, the brigade commander of uhlans. 
 He is very anxious to see you ; he is passionately fond 
 of your father." 
 
 "I think that he is terrible trash, that Ilyin. But 
 the worst is that all these gentlemen who imagine that 
 they knew my father in order to make friends with me, 
 insist upon telling me, as though it were very pleasant 
 for me to hear, about escapades of his that make me 
 blush. It is true I am not impulsive, and I look 
 upon things dispassionately ; while he was too hot- 
 spirited a man, and sometimes he played exceedingly 
 reprehensible tricks. However, that was all due to his 
 time. In our day and generation, maybe, he would 
 have been a very sensible man, for he had tremendous 
 abilities ; one must give him credit for that." 
 
 In a quarter of an hour the servant returned, and 
 brought an invitation for them to come and spend the 
 night at the mansion. 
 
258 TWO IJUSSARS. 
 
 XL 
 
 As soon as Anna Fedorovna learned that the officer 
 of hussars was the son of Count Feodor Turbin, she 
 was thrown into a great state of excitement. 
 
 "Oh! great heavens ! * he is my darling! Danilo! 
 run, hurry, tell them the lad}' invites them to stay at 
 her house," she cried, in great agitation, and hasten- 
 ing to the servants' room. " Lizanka ! Ustiushka ! 
 You must have your room put in order, Liza. You can 
 go into your uncle's room ; and you, brother, — brother, 
 you can sleep to-night in the parlor. It's for only one 
 night." 
 
 " That's nothing, sister! I would sleep on the 
 floor." 
 
 " He must be a handsome fellow, I think, if he's 
 like his father. Only let me see him, the turtle-dove ! 
 You shall see for yourself, Liza. Ah ! his father was 
 handsome ! Where shall we put the table ? Let it go 
 there," said Anna Fedorovna, running about here and 
 there. " There now, bring in two beds ; get one from 
 the overseer, and get from the etag&re the glass candle- 
 stick which my brother gave me for my birthday, and 
 put in a wax candle." 
 
 At last all was ready. Liza, in spite of her moth- 
 er's interference, arranged her room in her own way 
 for the two officers. 
 
 She brought out clean linen sheets, fragrant of 
 
 1 bdtiuthki mo'i I 
 
TWO nUSSARS. 259 
 
 mignonnette, and had the beds made ; she ordered a 
 carafe of water and candles near it on the little table. 
 She burned scented paper in the girls' room, and 
 moved her own little bed into her uncle's chamber. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna gradually became calm, and sat 
 down again in her usual place ; she even took out her 
 cards ; but instead of shuffling them, she leaned on 
 her fat elbow, and gave herself up to her thoughts. 
 
 "How time has gone! how time has gone!" she 
 exclaimed in a whisper. "It is long ! long ! isn't it? 
 I seem to see him now ! Akh ! he was a scamp ! " 
 
 And the tears came into her eyes. "Now here is 
 Lizanka, but she isn't at all what I was at her age. 
 She is a nice girl ; but no, not quite . . . 
 
 " Lizanka, you had better wear your mousselin-de- 
 laine dress this evening." 
 
 "But are you going to invite them down-stairs, 
 mamasha? You had better not do it," rejoined Liza, 
 with a feeling of invincible agitation at the thought of 
 seeing the officers. " You had better not, mamasha ! " 
 
 In point of fact, she did not so much desire to see 
 them, as she felt apprehensive of some painful pleasure 
 awaiting her, as it seemed to her. 
 
 4 ' Perhaps they themselves would like to make our 
 acquaintance, Lizotchka," said Anna Fedorovna, glan- 
 cing at her daughter's hair, and at the same time 
 thinking, "No, not such hair as I had at her age. 
 No, Lizotchka, how much I could wish for you ! " And 
 she really wished something very excellent for her 
 daughter, but she could scarcely look forward to a 
 match with the count ; she could not desire such a rela- 
 tionship as she herself had formed with his father ; but 
 that something good would come of it, she wished 
 very, very much for her daughter. She possibly 
 
2G0 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 had the desire to live over again in her daughter's 
 happiness all the life which she lived with the late 
 count. 
 
 The old cavalryman was also somewhat excited by 
 the count's coming. He went to his room, and shut 
 himself up in it. At the end of a quarter of an hour, 
 he re-appeared dressed in a Hungarian coat and blue 
 pantaloons ; and with a troubled-happy expression of 
 countenance, such as a girl wears when she puts on 
 her first ball-dress, he started for the room assigned to 
 the guests. 
 
 M We shall have a glimpse of some of the hussars of 
 to-day, sister. The late count was indeed a genuine 
 hussar. We shall see ! we shall see ! " 
 
 The officers had by this time come in by the back 
 entrance, and were in the room that had been put at 
 their service. 
 
 "There now," said the count, stretching himself 
 out in his dusty boots on the bed which had just been 
 made for him, "if we aren't better off here than we 
 were there in that hovel with the cockroaches ! " 
 
 "Better? of course; but think what obligations we 
 are putting ourselves under to the people here." 
 
 " What rubbish ! You must always be a practical 
 man. They are mighty glad to have us, of course. 
 Fellow!" cried the count, "ask some one to put a 
 curtain up at this window, else there'll be a draught in 
 the night." 
 
 At this moment the old man came in to make the 
 acquaintance of the officers. Though he was some- 
 what confused, he did not fail to tell how he had been 
 a comrade of the late count's, who had been very con- 
 genial to him, and he even went so far as to say that 
 more than once he had been under obligations to the 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 261 
 
 late count. Whether he meant, in speaking of the 
 obligations to the late count, a reference to the hun- 
 dred rubles which the count had borrowed and never 
 returned, or to his throwing him into the snow-drift, or 
 to the slap in the face, the old man failed to explain. 
 
 However, the count was very urbane with the old 
 cavalryman, and thanked him for his hospitality. 
 
 " You must excuse us if it is not very luxurious, 
 count," — he almost said "your excellency," as he 
 had got out of the habit of meeting with men of rank. 
 "My sister's house is rather small. As for the window 
 here, we will find something to serve as a curtain 
 right away, and it will be first-rate," added the little 
 old man ; and under the pretext of going for a curtain, 
 but really because he wanted to give his report about 
 the officers as quickly as possible, he left the room. 
 The pretty little Ustiushka came, bringing her mis- 
 tress's shawl to serve as a curtain. She was also 
 commissioned to ask if the gentlemen would not like 
 some tea. 
 
 The cheerful hospitality had had a manifestly benefi- 
 cent influence upon the count's spirits. He laughed 
 and jested with Ustiushka gayly, and went to such 
 lengths that she even called him a bad man ; he asked 
 her if her mistress was prett}', and in reply to her 
 question whether he would like some tea, replied that 
 she might please bring him some, but above all, as his 
 supper was not ready, he would like some vodka now, 
 and a little lunch, and some sherry if there was any. 
 
 The old uncle was in raptures over the young count's 
 politeness, and praised to the skies the 3 r oung genera- 
 tion of officers, saying that the men of the present day 
 were far preferable to those of the past. 
 
 Anna Fedorovua could not agree to that, — no one 
 
2G2 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 could be any better than Count Fe6dor Ivanovitch, — 
 and she was beginning to grow seriously angry, and 
 remarked dryly, u For you, brother, the one who 
 flatten you last is the best! Without any question, 
 the men of our time are better educated, but still Feodor 
 Ivanovitch could dance the schottische, and was so 
 amiable that everybody in his day, you might say, 
 was stupid compared to him ! only he did not eare 
 for any one else beside me. Oh, certainly there were 
 fine men in the old time ! " 
 
 At this moment came the message requesting the 
 vodka, the lunch, and the sherry. 
 
 44 There now, just like you, brother ! You never do 
 things right. We ought to have had supper prepared. 
 . . . Liza, attend to it, that's my darling." 
 
 Liza hastened to the storeroom for mushrooms and 
 fresh cream butter, and told the cook to prepare beef 
 cutlets. 
 
 44 How much sherry is there? Haven't you any 
 left, brother?" 
 
 44 No, sister; I never have had any." 
 
 44 What! no sherry? but what is it you drink in 
 your tea? " 
 
 44 That is rum, Anna Fedorovna." 
 
 44 Isn't that the same thing ? Give them some of that. 
 It is all the same, it'll make no difference. Or would 
 it not be better to invite them down here, brother? 
 You know all about it. They would not be offended, 
 I imagine, would they? " 
 
 The cavalryman assured her that he would answer 
 for it that the count, in his goodness of heart, would 
 not deeline, and that he would certainly bring them. 
 
 Anna Feodorovna went off to put on, for some reason 
 or other, her gros-grain dress and a new cap ; but Liza 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 2G3 
 
 was so busy that she had no time to take off her pink 
 gingham dress with wide sleeves. Moreover, she was 
 terribly wrought up ; it seemed to her that something 
 astonishing, like a very low blaek cloud, was sweeping 
 down upon her soul. 
 
 This count-hussar, this handsome fellow, seemed to 
 her an absolutely novel and unexpected but beautiful 
 creature. His character, his habits, his words, it 
 seemed to her, must be something extraordinary, such 
 as had never come into the range of her experience. 
 All that he thought and said must be bright and 
 true ; all that he did must be honorable ; his whole 
 appearance must be beautiful. She could have no 
 doubt of that. If he had demanded not merely a 
 lunch and sherry, but even a bath in spirits of salvia, 
 she would not have been surprised, she would not have 
 blamed him, and she would have been convinced that 
 this was just and reasonable. 
 
 The count immediately accepted when the cavalry- 
 man brought him his sister's invitation ; he combed his 
 hair, put on his coat, and took his cigar-case. 
 
 44 Will you come? " he asked of Polozof. 
 
 " Indeed we had better not go," replied the cornet; 
 " ils feront cles frais pour nous recevoir." 
 
 " Rubbish ! it will make them happy. Besides, I 
 have been making inquiries . . . there's a pretty 
 daughter here. . . . Come along," said the count in 
 French. 
 
 \* Je vous en prie, messieurs ," said the cavalryman, 
 merely for the sake of giving them to understand that 
 he also could speak French, and understood what the 
 officers were saying. 
 
264 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Liza, red in the face and with downcast eyes, was 
 ostensibly occupied with filling up the teapot, and did 
 not dare to look at the officers as they entered the 
 room. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna, on the contrary, briskly jumped 
 up and bowed, and without taking her eyes from the 
 count's face began to talk to him, now finding an ex- 
 traordinary resemblance to his father, now presenting 
 her daughter, now offering him tea, meats, or jelly- 
 cakes. 
 
 No one paid any attention to the cornet, thanks to 
 his modest behavior ; and he was very glad of it, 
 because it gave him a chance, within the limits of 
 propriety, to observe and study the details of Liza's 
 beauty, which had evidently come over him with the 
 force of a surprise. 
 
 The uncle listening to his sister's conversation had a 
 speech ready on his lips, and was waiting for a chance 
 to relate his cavalry experiences. 
 
 The count smoked his cigar over his tea, so that Liza 
 had great difficulty in refraining from coughing, but he 
 was very talkative and amiable ,' at first, in the infre- 
 quent pauses of Anna Fedorovna's conversation, he 
 introduced his own stories, and finally he took the 
 conversation into his own hands. 
 
 One thing struck his listeners as rather strange : in 
 his talk he often used words, which, though not con- 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 2G5 
 
 sidered reprehensible in his own set, were here rather 
 audacious, so that Anna Fedorovna was a little abashed, 
 and Liza blushed to the roots of her hair. But this 
 the count did not notice, and continued to be just as 
 natural and amiable as ever. 
 
 Liza filled the glasses in silence, not putting them 
 into the hands of the guests, but pushing them toward 
 them ; she had not entirely recovered from her agita- 
 tion, but listened eagerly to the count's anecdotes. 
 
 The count's pointless tales, and the pauses in the 
 conversation, gradually re-assured her. The bright 
 things that she had expected from him were not forth- 
 coming, nor did she find in him that surpassing ele- 
 gance for which she had confusedly hoped. Even as 
 soon as the third glass of tea, when her timid eyes 
 once encountered his, and he did not avoid them, but 
 continued almost too boldly to stare at her, with a 
 lurking smile, she became conscious of a certain feel- 
 ing of hostility against him ; and she soon discovered 
 that there was not only nothing out of the ordinary in 
 him, but that he was very little different from those 
 whom she had already seen ; in fact, that there was no 
 reason to be afraid of him. She noticed that he had 
 long and neat finger-nails, but otherwise there was no 
 mark of special beauty about him. 
 
 Liza suddenly, not without some inward sorrow, re- 
 nouncing her dream, regained her self-possession ; and 
 only the undemonstrative cornet's glance, which she felt 
 fixed upon her, disquieted her. 
 
 " Perhaps it is not the count, but the other,' * she said 
 to berself. 
 
266 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 After tea, the old lady invited her guests into the 
 other room, and again sat down in her usual place. 
 u But perhaps you would like to rest, count?" she 
 asked. " Well, then, what would you like to amuse 
 yourselves with, my dear guests?" she proceeded to 
 ask after she had been assured to the contrary. " You 
 play cards, do you not, count? — Here, brother, you 
 might take a hand in some game or other." . . . 
 
 44 Why, you yourself can play preference" replied 
 the cavalryman. " You had better take a hand, then. 
 The count will play, will he not? And you? " 
 
 The officers were agreeable to every thing that might 
 satisfy their amiable hosts. 
 
 Liza brought from her room her old cards which she 
 used for divining whether her. mother would speedily 
 recover of a cold, or whether her uncle would return on 
 such and such a day from the city if he chanced to have 
 gone there, or whether her neighbor would be in during 
 the da} T , and other like things. These cards, though 
 the}' had been in use for two months, were less soiled 
 than those which Anna Fedorovna used for the same 
 purpose. 
 
 44 Perhaps you are not accustomed to playing for 
 small stakes," suggested the uncle. " Anna Fedor- 
 ovna and I play for half-kopeks, and then she always 
 gets the better of all of us." 
 
 44 Ah ! make your own arrangements. I shall be 
 perfectly satisfied," said the count. 
 
TWO FIUSSARS. 2C7 
 
 " Well, then, be it in paper kopeks for the sake of 
 our dear guests ; only let me gain, as I am old," said 
 Anna Fedorovna, settling herself in her chair, and 
 adjusting her mantilla. 4; Maybe I shall win a ruble 
 of them," thought Anna Fedorovna, who in her old 
 age felt a little passion for cards. 
 
 "If you would like, I will teach you to play with 
 tablets," said the count, "and with the miseries. It 
 is very jolly." 
 
 Everybody was delighted with this new Petersburg 
 fashion. The uncle went so far as to assert that he 
 knew it, and that it was just the same thing as boston, 
 but that he had forgotten somewhat about it. 
 
 Anna Fedorovna did not comprehend it at all ; and 
 it took her so long to get into it, that she felt under the 
 necessity of smiling and nodding her head assuringly, 
 to give the impression that she now understood, and 
 that now it was all perfectly clear to her. But there 
 was no little amusement created when in the midst of 
 the game Anna Fedorovna, with ace and king blank, 
 called u miserie" and remained with the six. She 
 even began to grow confused, smiled timidly, and has- 
 tened to assure them that she had not as yet become 
 accustomed to the new wa}\ 
 
 Nevertheless they put down the points against her, 
 and many of them too ; the more because the count, 
 through his practice of playing on large stakes, played 
 carefully, led very prudently, and never at all under- 
 stood what the cornet meant by sundry raps with his 
 foot under the table, or why he made such stupid 
 blunders in playing. 
 
 Liza brought in more jelly-cakes, three kinds of 
 preserves, and apples cooked in some manner with port- 
 wine ; and then, standing behind her mother's chair, 
 
268 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 she looked on at the game, and occasionally watched 
 the officers, aud especially the count's white hands 
 with their delicate long finger-nails, as be with such 
 skill, assurance, and grace, threw the cards, and took 
 the tricks. 
 
 Once more Anna Fedorovna, with some show of tem- 
 per going beyond the others, bid as high as seven, and 
 lost three points ; and when, at her brother's institu- 
 tion, she tried to make some calculation, she found 
 herself utterly confused and off the track. 
 
 ' fc It's nothing, mamasha ; you'll win it back again, " 
 said Liza, with a smile, anxious to rescue her mother 
 from her ridiculous position. " Some time you'll put a 
 fine on uncle: then he will be caught." 
 
 "But you might help me, Lizotchka," cried Anna 
 Fedorovna, looking with an expression of dismay at 
 her daughter; " I don't know how this " . . . 
 
 " But I don't know how to play this either," rejoined 
 Liza, carefully calculating her mother's losses. " But 
 if you go on at this rate, mamasha, you will lose a 
 good deal, and Pimotchka will not have her new dress," 
 she added in jest. 
 
 " Yes, in this way it is quite possible to lose ten 
 silver rubles," said the cornet, looking at Liza, and 
 anxious to draw her into conversation. 
 
 " Aren't we playing for paper money ? " asked Anna 
 Fedorovna, gazing round at the rest. 
 
 " I don't know, I am sure," replied the count. 
 M But I don't know how to reckon in bank-notes. 
 What are they? what do you mean by bank-notes? " l 
 
 u Why, no one nowadays reckons in bank-notes," 
 explained the cavalryman, who was flaying like a hero 
 and was on the winning side. 
 
 1 Assignatsii. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 261) 
 
 The old lady ordered some sparkling wine, drank 
 two glasses herself, grew quite flushed, and seemed to 
 abandon all hope. One braid of her gray hair es- 
 caped from under her cap, and she did not even put it 
 up. It was evident that she thought herself losing 
 millions, and that she was entirely ruined. The cornet 
 kept nudging the count's leg more and more emphati- 
 cally. The count was noting down the old lady's 
 losses. 
 
 At last the game came to an end. In spite of 
 Anna Fedorovna's efforts to bring her reckoning higher 
 than it should be, and to pretend that she had been 
 cheated in her account, and that it could not be cor- 
 rect, in spite of her dismay at the magnitude of her 
 losses, at last the account was made out, and she was 
 found to have lost nine hundred and twenty points. 
 
 " Isn't that equal to nine paper rubles ? " she asked 
 again and again ; and she did not begin to realize how 
 great her forfeit was, until her brother, to her horror, 
 explained that she was "out" thirty-two and a half 
 paper rubles, and that it was absolutely necessary for 
 her to pay it. 
 
 The count did not even sum up his gains, but, as 
 soon as the game was over, arose and went over to the 
 window where Liza was arranging the lunch, and put- 
 ting potted mushrooms on a plate. There he did with 
 perfect calmness and naturalness what the cornet had 
 been anxious and yet unable to effect all the evening, 
 — he engaged her in conversation about the weather. 
 
 The cornet at this time was brought into a thor- 
 oughly unpleasant predicament. Anna Fedorovna, in 
 the absence of the count and Liza, who had managed to 
 keep her in a jovial frame of mind, became really 
 angry. 
 
270 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 " Indeed, it is too bad that we have caused you to 
 lose so heavily," said l\>16zof, in order to say some- 
 thing. "It is simply shameful." 
 
 " I should think these tablets and miseries were some- 
 thing of your own invention. I don't know any thing 
 about them. How many paper rubles does the whole 
 amount to?" she demanded. 
 
 "Thirty-two rubles, thirty-two and a half," in- 
 sisted the cavalryman, who, from the effect of having 
 been on the winning side, was in a very waggish frame 
 of mind. M Give him the money, sister. . . . Give 
 it to him." 
 
 "I will give all I owe, only you must not ask fcr 
 any more. No, I shall never win it back in my life." 
 
 And Anna Fedorovna went to her room, all in excite- 
 ment, hurried back, and brought nine paper rubles. 
 Only on the old man's strenuous insistence she was 
 induced to pay the whole sum. Polozof had some fear 
 that the old lady would pour out on him the vials of 
 her wrath if he entered into conversation with her. He 
 silently, without attracting attention, turned away, and 
 rejoined the count and Liza, who were talking at the 
 open window. 
 
 On the table, which was now spread for the supper, 
 stood two tallow candles, whose flame occasionally 
 flickered in the gentle breeze of the mild May night. 
 Through the window opening into the garden came 
 a very different light from that which filled the room. 
 The moon, almost at its full, already beginning to 
 lose its golden radiance, was pouring over the tops of 
 the lofty lindens, and making brighter and brighter 
 the delicate fleecy clouds that occasionally overcast 
 it. 
 
 From the pond, the surface of which, silvered in one 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 271 
 
 place by the moon, could be seen through the trees, 
 came the voices of the frogs. In the sweet-scented 
 lilac-bush under the very window, which from time to 
 time slowly shook its heavy-laden blossoms, birds were 
 darting and fluttering. 
 
 M What marvellous weather! ** said the count, as he 
 joined Liza, and sat down in the low window-seat. " I 
 suppose you go to walk a good deal, don't you? " 
 
 "Yes," rejoined Liza, not experiencing the slight- 
 est embarrassment in the count's companj-. " Every 
 morning, at seven o'clock, I make the tour of the 
 estate, and sometimes I take a walk with Pimotchka, — 
 mamma's protegee. " 
 
 "It's pleasant living in the country," cried the 
 count, putting his monocle to his eye, and gazing first 
 at the garden, and then at Liza. " But don't you like 
 to take a walk on moonlight nights? " 
 
 " No. Three years ago my uncle and I used to go 
 out walking every moonlight night. He had some sort 
 of strange illness, — insomnia. Whenever there was 
 a full moon, he could not sleep. His room like this 
 opens into the garden, and the window is low. The 
 moon shines right into it." 
 
 "Strange," remarked the count. "Then this is 
 your room." 
 
 "No, I only sleep there for this one night. You 
 occupy my room." 
 
 "Is it possible? ... oh, good heavens! 1 I shall 
 never in the world forgive myself for the trouble that 
 I have caused," said the count, casting the monocle 
 from his eye as a sign of sincerity. . . . " If I had 
 only known that I was going to " . . . 
 
 " How much trouble was it? On the contrary, I am 
 
 1 Akh! Boshe mo'i! 
 
272 TWO I1USSARS. 
 
 very glad. My uncle's room is so nice and jolly : 
 there's a low window there. I shall sit down in it be- 
 fore I go to IhhI, or perhapfl 1 shall go down, out into 
 the garden, and take a little walk." 
 
 " What a glorious girl ! " said the count to himself, 
 replacing the monocle, aud staring at her, and while 
 pretending to change his seat in the window, trying 
 to touch her foot with his. " Aud how shrewdly she 
 gave me to understand that I might meet her in the 
 garden at the window, if I would come down ! " 
 
 Liza even lost in the count's eyes a large share of her 
 charm, so easy did the conquest of her seem to him. 
 
 "And how blissful it must be," said the count 
 dreamily, gazing into the shadow-haunted alley, " to 
 spend such a night in the garden with the object of 
 one's love! " 
 
 Liza was somewhat abashed by these words, and by 
 a second evidently deliberate pressure upon her foot. 
 Before she thought, she made some reply for the sake 
 of dissimulating her embarrassment. 
 
 She said, " Yes, it is splendid to walk in the moon- 
 light." 
 
 There was something disagreeable about the whole 
 conversation. She put the cover on the jar from 
 which she had been taking the mushrooms, and was 
 just turning from the window, when the cornet came 
 toward her, and she felt a curiosity to know what kind 
 of a man he was. 
 
 " What a lovely night ! " said he. 
 
 " They can only talk about the weather," thought 
 Liza. 
 
 "What a wonderful view!" continued the cornet, 
 11 only I should think it would be tiresome," he added 
 through a strange propensity, peculiar to him, of saying 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 273 
 
 things sure to offend the people who pleased him very 
 much. 
 
 M Why should you think so? Always the same 
 cooking and always the same dress might become tire- 
 some ; but a lovely garden can never be tiresome when 
 you enjoy walking, and especially when there's a moon 
 rising higher and higher. From my uncle's room you 
 can see the whole pond. I shall see it from there to- 
 night." 
 
 " And you haven't any nightingales at all, have 
 3'ou?" asked the count, greatly put out, because Polo- 
 zof had come and prevented him from learning the 
 exact conditions of the rendezvous. 
 
 "Oh, yes, we always have them ; last year the hunt- 
 ers caught one ; and last week there was one that sang 
 beautifully, but the district inspector * came along with 
 his bells, and scared him away. . . . Three years ago 
 my uncle and I used to sit out in the covered alley, and 
 listen to one for two hours at a time." 
 
 4 'What is this chatterbox telling you about?" in- 
 quired the old uncle, joining the trio. "Aren't you 
 ready for something to eat ? " 
 
 At supper, the count by his reiterated praise of the 
 viands, and his appetite, succeeded somewhat in pacify- 
 ing Anna Fedorovna's unhappy state of mind. After- 
 wards the officers made their adieux, and went to their 
 room. The count shook hands with the old cavalier, 
 and, to Anna Fedorovna's surprise, with her, without 
 offering to kiss her hand ; and he also squeezed Liza's 
 hand, at the same time looking straight into her eyes, 
 and craftily smiling his pleasing smile. This glance 
 again somewhat disconcerted the maiden. " He is 
 very handsome," she said to herself, '„* only he is 
 quite too conceited." 
 
274 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Well, now, aren't 3*011 ashamed?" exclaimed 
 Polozof, when the two officers had reached the privac3 r 
 of their chamber. " I tried to lose, and I kept nudg- 
 ing you under the table. Now aren't you really 
 ashamed? The poor old lady was quit beside herself." 
 
 The count burst into a terrible fit of laughter. 
 
 " A most amusing dame ! How abused she felt ! " 
 
 And again he began to laugh so heartily that even 
 Johann, who was standing in front of him, cast down 
 his eyes to conceal a smile. " And here is the son of 
 an old family friend! Ha, ha, ha!" continued the 
 count in a gale of laughter. 
 
 " No, indeed, it is not right. I felt really sorry for 
 her," said the cornet. 
 
 "What rubbish! How > T oung you are! What! 
 did you think that I was going to lose ? Wh} T should I 
 lose? I only lose when I don't know any better. 
 Ten rubles, brother, will come in handy. You must 
 look on life in a practical way, or else you will always 
 be a fool." 
 
 Polozof made no answer : in the first place, he 
 wanted to think by himself about Liza, who seemed 
 to him to be an extraordinarily pure and beautiful 
 creature. 
 
 He undressed, and lay down on the clean soft bed 
 which had been made ready for him. 
 
 "How absurd all these honors and the glory of 
 
two hussars. 275 
 
 war!" he thought to himself, gazing at the window 
 shaded by the shawl, through the interstices of which 
 crept the pale rays of the moon. •« Here is happiness 
 — to live in a quiet nook, with a gentle, bright, simple- 
 hearted wife ; that is enduring, true happiness." 
 
 But somehow he did not communicate these imagin- 
 ations to his friend ; and he did not even speak of the 
 rustic maiden, though he felt sure that the count was 
 also thinking about her. 
 
 "Why don't you undress?" he demanded of the 
 count, who was walking up and down the room. 
 
 " Oh, I don't feel like sleeping ! Put out the candle 
 if you like," said he. " I can undress in the dark." 
 
 And he continued to walk up and down. 
 
 "He does not feel sleepy," repeated Polozof, who 
 after the evening's experiences felt more than ever 
 dissatisfied with the count's influence upon him, and 
 disposed to revolt against it. "I imagine," he rea- 
 soned, mentally addressing Turbin, " what thoughts 
 are now trooping through that well-combed head of 
 yours. And I saw how she pleased you. But you are 
 not the kind to appreciate that simple-hearted, pure- 
 minded creature. Mina is the one for you, you want 
 the epaulets of a colonel. — Indeed, I have a mind to 
 ask him how he liked her." 
 
 And Polozof was about to address him, but he delib- 
 erated : he felt that not only he was not in the right 
 frame of mind to discuss with him if the count's glance 
 at Liza was what he interpreted it to be, but that he 
 should not have the force of mind necessary for him 
 to disagree with him, so accustomed was he to submit 
 to an influence which for him grew each day more 
 burdensome and unrighteous. 
 
 "Where are you going?" he asked, as the count 
 took his cap and went to the door. 
 
276 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 44 1 am going to the stable ; I wish to see if every 
 thing is all right." 
 
 41 Strange! " thought the cornet; but he blew out 
 the candle, and, trying to dispel the absurdly jealous 
 and hostile thoughts that arose against his former 
 frk'iid, he turned over on the other side. 
 
 Anna Fedorovua meantime, having crossed herself, 
 and kissed her brother, her daughter, and her prottg6e, 
 as affectionately as usual, also retired to he* room. 
 
 Long had it been since the old lady had experienced 
 in a single day so many powerful sensations. She 
 could not even say her prayers in tranquillity ; all the 
 melancholy but vivid remembrances of the late count, 
 and of this young dandy who had so ruthlessly taken 
 advantage of her, kept coming up in her mind. 
 
 Nevertheless she undressed as usual, and drank a 
 half glass of kvas which stood ready on the little table 
 near the bed, and lay down. Her beloved cat came 
 softly into the room. Anna Fedorovna called her, and 
 began to stroke her fur, and listen to her purring ; but 
 still she could not go to sleep. 
 
 44 It is the cat that disturbs me," she said to herself, 
 and pushed her away. The cat fell to the floor softly, 
 and, slowly waving her bushy tail, got upon the oven ; 1 
 and then the maid, who slept in the room on the floor, 
 brought her felt, and put out the candle, after lighting 
 the night-lamp. 
 
 At last the maid began to snore ; but sleep still re- 
 fused to come to Anna Fedorovna, and calm her ex- 
 cited imagination. The face of the hussar constantly 
 arose before her mental vision, when she shut her eyes ; 
 and it seemed to her that it appeared in various strange 
 guises in her room, when she opened her eyes and 
 
 1 The lezhanka, a part of the oven built out as a 8ort of cone* 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 277 
 
 looked at the commode, at the table, and her white rai- 
 ment hanging up in the feeble light of the night-lamp. 
 Then it seemed hot to her in the feather-bed, and the 
 ticking of the watch on the table seemed unendurable ; 
 exasperating to the last degree, the snoring of the 
 maid. She wakened her, and bade her cease snoring. 
 
 Again the thoughts of the old count and of the 
 young count, and of the game of preference, became 
 strangely mixed in her mind. Now she seemed to see 
 herself waltzing with the former count; she saw her 
 own round white shoulders, she felt on them some one's 
 kisses, and then she saw her daughter in the young 
 count's embrace. 
 
 Once more Ustiushka began to snore. . . . 
 
 44 No, it's somehow different now, the men aren't the 
 same. He was ready to fling himself into the fire for 
 my sake. Yes, I was worth doing it for ! But this 
 one, have no fear, is sound asleep like a goose, instead 
 of wooing. How his father fell on his knees, and said, 
 fc Whatever you desire I will do, I could kill myself in 
 a moment ; what do you desire ? ' And he would have 
 killed himself, if I had bade him ! " . . . 
 
 Suddenly the sound of bare feet was heard in the 
 corridor ; and Liza with a shawl thrown over her came 
 in pale and trembling, and almost fell on her mother's 
 bed. . . . 
 
 After saying good-night to her mother, Liza had 
 gone alone to the room that had been her uncle's. 
 Putting on a white jacket, throwing a handkerchief 
 round her thick long braids, she put out the light, 
 opened the window, and curled up in a chair, turning 
 her dreamy eyes to the pond which was now all shining 
 with silver brilliancy. 
 
 All her ordinary occupations and interests came up 
 
278 TWO nUSSARS. 
 
 before her now in an entirely different light. Her ca- 
 pricious old mother, unreasoning love for whom had 
 become a part of her very soul, her feeble but amiable 
 old uncle, the domestics, the peasants who worshipped 
 their young mistress, the milch cows and the calves ; all 
 this nature which was forever the same in its continual 
 (hath and resurrection, amid which she had grown op, 
 with love for others, and with the love of others for 
 her, — all this that gave her that gentle, agreeable 
 peace of mind, — suddenly seemed to her something 
 different ; it all seemed to her dismal, superfluous. 
 
 It was as though some one said to her, •• Fool, fool ! 
 For twenty years you have been occupied in trivialities, 
 you have been serving others without reason, and you 
 have not knowu what life, what happiness, were ! " 
 
 This was what she thought now as she gazed down 
 into the depths of the motionless moonlit garden, and 
 the thought came over her with vastly more force than 
 ever before. And what was it that induced this train 
 of thought ? It was not in the least a sudden love for 
 the count, as might easily be supposed. On the con- 
 trary, he did not please her. It might rather have been 
 the cornet of whom she was thinking ; but he was 
 homely, poor, and taciturn. 
 
 41 No, it isn't that," she said to herself. 
 
 Her ideal was so charming ! It was an ideal which 
 might have been loved in the midst of this night, in 
 the midst of this nature, without infringing its supernal 
 beauty ; an ideal not in the least circumscribed by the 
 necessity of reducing it to coarse reality. 
 
 In days gone by, her lonely situation, and the absence 
 of people who might have attracted her, caused that 
 all the strength of the love which Providence has im 
 planted impartially in the hearts of each one of us, 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 279 
 
 was still intact and potential in her soul. But now she 
 had been living too long with the pathetic happiness of 
 feeling that she possessed in her heart this something, 
 and occasionally opening the mysterious chalice of her 
 heart, of rejoicing in the contemplation of its riches, 
 ready to pour out without stint on some one all that it 
 contained. 
 
 God grant that she may not have to take this mel- 
 ancholy delight with her to the tomb ! But who knows 
 if there be any better and more powerful delight, or if 
 it is not the only true and possible one? 
 
 " O Father in heaven," she thought, " is it possible 
 that I have lost my youth and my happiness, and that 
 they will never return? . . . Will they never return 
 again ? is it really true ? ' ' 
 
 She gazed in the direction of the moon at the bright 
 far-off sky, studded with white wavy clouds, which, as 
 they swept on toward the moon, blotted out the little 
 stars. 
 
 " If the moon should seize that little cloud above it, 
 then it means that it is true," she thought. A thin 
 smoke-like strip of cloud passed over the lower half 
 of the brilliant orb, and gradually the light grew fainter 
 on the turf, on the linden tops, on the pond : the black 
 shadows of the trees grew less distinct. And as though 
 to harmonize with the gloomy shade which was envel- 
 oping nature, a gentle breeze stirred through the leaves, 
 and brought to the window the dewy fragrance of the 
 leaves, the moist earth, and the blooming lilacs. 
 
 " No, it is not true! " she said, trying to console 
 herself ; u but *f the nightingale should sing this night, 
 then I should take it to mean that all mj' forebodings 
 are nonsense, and that there is no need of losing hope." 
 
 And long she sat in silence, as though expecting 
 
280 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 some one, while once more all grew bright and full of 
 life ; and then again and again the clouds passed over 
 the moon, and all became sombre. 
 
 She was even beginning to grow drowsy, as she sat 
 there b}' the window, when she was aroused by the 
 nightingale's melodious trills clearly echoing across 
 tlir pond. The rustic maiden opened her eyes. Once 
 more, with a new enjoyment, her whole soul was dedi- 
 cated to that mysterious union with the nature which 
 so calmly and serenely spread out before her. 
 
 She leaned on both elbows. A certain haunting 
 sensation of gentle melancholy oppressed her heart ; 
 and tears of pure, deep love, binning for satisfaction, 
 good consoling tears, sprang to her eyes. 
 
 She leaned her arms on the window-sill, and rested 
 her head upon them. Her favorite prayer seemed of 
 its own accord to arise in her soul, and thus she fell 
 asleep with moist eyes. 
 
 The pressure of some one's hand awakened her. 
 She started up. But the touch was gentle and pleas- 
 ant. The hand squeezed hers with a stronger pressure. 
 
 Suddenly she realized the true state of things, 
 screamed, tore herself away ; and trying to make her- 
 self believe that it was not the count who, bathed in the 
 brilliant moonlight, was standing in front of her window, 
 she hastened from the room. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 281 
 
 XV. 
 
 It was indeed the count. When he heard the maid- 
 en's cry, and the cough of the watchman who was 
 coming from the other side of the fence in reply to the 
 shriek, he had the sensation of being a thief caught in 
 the act, and started to run across the dew-drenched 
 grass, so as to hide in the depths of the garden. 
 
 " Oh, what a fool I was ! " he said instinctively. " I 
 frightened her. I ought to have been more gentle, to 
 have wakened her by gentle words. Oh ! I am a beast, 
 a blundering beast." 
 
 He paused and listened. The watchman had come 
 through the wicket-gate into the garden, dragging his 
 cane along the sanded walk. 
 
 He must hide. He went toward the pond. The 
 frogs made him tremble as they hastily sprang from 
 under his very feet into the water. There, notwith- 
 standing his wet feet, he crouched down on his heels, 
 and, began to recall all he had done, — how he had 
 crept through the hedge, found her window, and at 
 last caught a glimpse of a white shadow ; how several 
 times, while on the watch for the least noise, he had 
 hastened away from the window ; how at one moment 
 it seemed to him that doubtless she was waiting for 
 him with vexation in her heart that he was so dilatory, 
 and the next how impossible it seemed that she would 
 make an appointment with him so easily ; and how, 
 finally coming to the conclusion, that, through the em- 
 
282 TWO HUSSARS. 
 
 harrassmcnt n.-itunillv felt by a country maiden, she was 
 only pretending to be asleep, he had resolutely gone 
 up to the window, and seen clearly her position, :m<l 
 then suddenly, for some occult reason, had run away 
 again ; and only after a powerful effort of self-control, 
 being ashamed of his cowardice, he had gone boldly up 
 to her and touched her on the hand. 
 
 The watchman again coughed, and, shutting the 
 squeaky gate, went out of the garden. The window 
 in the young girl's room was shut, and the wooden 
 shutters inside were drawn. 
 
 The count was terribly disappointed to see this. He 
 would have given a good deal to have a chance to 
 begin it all over again ; he would not have acted so 
 stupidly. 
 
 44 A marvellous girl ! what freshness ! simply charm- 
 ing ! And so I lost her. Stupid beast that I was." 
 
 However, as he was not iu the mood to go to sleep 
 yet, he walked, as chance should lead, along the path, 
 through the linden alley, with the resolute steps of a 
 man who has been angry. And now for him also this 
 night brought, as its gifts of reconciliation, a strange, 
 calming melancholy, and a craving for love. 
 
 The clay path, here and there dotted with sprouting 
 grass or dry twigs, was lighted by patches of pale light 
 where the moon sent its rays straight through the thick 
 foliage of the lindens. Here and there a bending 
 bough, apparently overgrown with gray moss, gleamed 
 on one side. The silvered foliage occasionally rustled. 
 
 At the house there was no light in the windows ; all 
 sounds were hushed, only the nightingale filled with his 
 song all the immensity of silent and glorious space. 
 
 44 My God ! what a night ! what a marvellous night ! " 
 thought the count, breathing in the fresh fragrance 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 283 
 
 of the garden. "Something makes me feel blue, as 
 though I were dissatisfied with myself and with others, 
 and dissatisfied with my whole life. But what a splen- 
 did, dear girl! Perhaps she was really offended." 
 Here his fancies changed. He imagined himself there 
 in the garden with this district maiden in various and 
 most remarkable situations ; then his mistress Mina 
 supplanted the maiden's place. 
 
 " What a fool I am ! I ought simply to have put my 
 arm around her waist, and kissed her." 
 
 And with this regret the count returned to his room. 
 The cornet was not yet asleep. He immediately turned 
 over in bed, and looked at the count. 
 
 14 Aren't you asleep? " asked the count. 
 
 "No." 
 
 44 Shall I tell you what happened? " 
 
 "Well." 
 
 44 No, L'd better not tell you. . . . Yes, I will too. 
 Move your legs over a little." 
 
 And the count, who had already given up vain regret 
 for his unsuccessful intrigue, sat down with a gay smile 
 on his comrade's bed. "Could you imagine that the 
 young lady of the house gave me a rendezvous ? ' ' 
 
 " What is that you say ? " screamed Polozof, leaping 
 up in bed. 
 
 "Well, now listen." 
 
 44 But how? When? It can't be ! " 
 
 44 See here : while you were making out }'Our accounts 
 in preference, she told me that she would this night be 
 sitting at the window, and that it was possible to get 
 in at that window. Now, this is what it means to be a 
 practical man : while you were there reckoning up with 
 the old woman, I was arranging this little affair. You 
 yourself heard her say right out in your presence, that 
 
284 TWO I1USSARS. 
 
 she was going to sit at the window to-night, and look 
 at the pond." 
 
 44 Yes, but she said that without any meaning in it." 
 
 44 1 am not so sure whether she said it purposely or 
 otherwise. Maybe she did not wish to come at it all 
 at once, only it looked like that. But a wretched piece 
 of work came out of it. Like a perfect fool I spoilt 
 the whole thing," he added, scornfully smiling at 
 himself. 
 
 44 Well, what is it? Where have you been? " 
 
 The count told him the whole story, with the excep- 
 tion of his irresolute and repeated advances. u I 
 spoilt it myself ; I ought to have been bolder. She 
 screamed, and ran away from the window." 
 
 44 Then she screamed and ran away?" repeated the 
 cornet, replying with a constrained smile to the count's 
 smile, which had such a long and powerful influence 
 upon him. 
 
 44 Yes, but now it's time to go to sleep." 
 
 Polozof again turned his back to the door, and lay in 
 silence for ten minutes. God knows what was going 
 on in his soul ; but when he turned over again, his face 
 was full of passion and resolution. 
 
 44 Count Turbin," said he in a broken voice. 
 
 44 Are you dreaming, or not?" replied the count 
 calmly. 44 What is it, comet Polozof? " 
 
 44 Count Turbin, you are a scoundrel," cried Polozof, 
 and he sprang from the bed. 
 
TWO HUSSARS. 285 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The next day the battalion departed. The officers 
 did not see any of the household, or bid them farewell. 
 Neither did they speak together. 
 
 It was understood that they were to fight their duel 
 when they came to the next halting-place. But Captain 
 Schultz, a good comrade, an admirable horseman, who 
 was loved by everybody in the regiment, and had been 
 chosen by the count for his second, succeeded in ar- 
 ranging the affair in such a manner that not only they 
 did not fight, but that no one in the regiment knew 
 about the matter ; and Turbin and Polozof , though their 
 old relations of friendship were never restored, still 
 said " thou," and met at meals and at the gaming- 
 table. 
 
THEEE DEATHS. 
 
 A TALE. 
 1859. 
 
 I. 
 
 It was autumn. 
 
 Along the highway came two equipages at a brisk 
 pace. In the first carriage sat two women. One was 
 a lady, thin and pale. The other, her maid, with a 
 brilliant red complexion, and plump. Her short, dry 
 locks escaped from under a faded cap ; her red hand, 
 in a torn glove, put them back with a jerk. Her full 
 bosom, incased in a tapestry shawl, breathed of health ; 
 her restless black eyes now gazed through the window 
 at the fields hurrying by them, now rested on her mis- 
 tress, now peered solicitously into the corners of the 
 coach. 
 
 Before the maid's face swung the lady's bonnet on 
 the rack ; on her knees lay a puppy ; her feet were 
 raised by packages lying on the floor, and could al- 
 most be heard drumming upon them above the noise 
 of the creaking of the springs, and the rattling of the 
 windows. 
 
 The lady, with her hands resting in her lap and her 
 eyes shut, feebly swayed on the cushions which sup- 
 ported her back, and, slightly frowning, struggled with 
 a cough. 
 286 
 
THREE DEATHS. 287 
 
 She wore a white nightcap, and a blue neckerchief 
 twisted around her delicate pale neck. A straight 
 line, disappearing under the cap, parted her blonde 
 hair, which was smoothly pomaded ; and there was a 
 dry, deathly appearance about the whiteness of the 
 skin in this simple parting. The withered and rather 
 sallow skin was loosely drawn over her delicate and 
 pretty features, and there was a hectic flush on the 
 cheeks and cheek-bones. Her lips were dry and rest- 
 less, her thin eyelashes had lost their curve, and a cloth 
 travelling capote made straight folds over her sunken 
 chest. Although her eyes were closed, her face gave 
 the impression of weariness, irascibility, and habitual 
 suffering. 
 
 The lackey, leaning back, was napping on the coach- 
 box. The hired driver, 1 shouting in a clear voice, urged 
 on his four powerful and sweat\ r horses, occasionally 
 looking back at the other driver, who was shouting just 
 behind them in an open barouche. The tires of the 
 wheels, in their even and rapid course, left wide paral- 
 lel tracks on the limy mud of the highway. 
 
 The sky was gray and cold, a moist mist was falling 
 over the fields and the road. It was suffocating in the 
 carriage, and smelt of eau-de-cologne and dust. The 
 invalid leaned back her head, and slowly opened her 
 eyes. Her great eyes were brilliant, and of a beautiful 
 dark color. "Again!" said she, nervously pushing 
 away with her beautiful attenuated hand the end of her 
 maid's cloak, which occasional^ hit against her knee. 
 Her mouth contracted painfull}'. 
 
 Matriosha raised her cloak in both hands, lifting her- 
 self up on her strong legs, and then sat down again, 
 farther away. Her fresh face was suffused with a 
 brilliant scarlet. 
 
 1 yamshchik. 
 
2SS THREE DEATHS. 
 
 The invalid's handsome dark eyes eagerly followed 
 the maid's motions ; and then with both hands she took 
 hold of the seat, and did her best to raise herself a 
 little higher, but her strength was not sufficient. 
 
 Again her mouth became contracted, and her whole 
 face took on an expression of unavailing, angry irony. 
 
 " If you would only help me. ... Ah ! It's not 
 necessary. I can do it myself. Only have the good- 
 ness not to put those pillows behind me. ... On the 
 whole, you had better not touch them, if you dou't 
 understand! " 
 
 The lady closed her eyes, and then again, quickly 
 raising the lids, gazed at her maid. 
 
 Matriosha looked at her, and gnawed her red lower 
 lip. A heavy sigh escaped from the sick woman's 
 breast ; but the sigh was not ended, but was merged 
 in a fit of coughing. She scowled, and turned her face 
 away, clutching her chest with both hands. When the 
 coughing fit was over, she once more shut her eyes, 
 and continued to sit motionless. The coach and the 
 barouche rolled into the village. Matriosha drew her 
 fat hand from under her shawl, and made the sign of 
 the cross. 
 
 " What is this? " demanded the lady. 
 
 "A post-station, madame." 
 
 " Why did you cross yourself, I should like to 
 know?" 
 
 "The church, madame." 
 
 The lady looked out of the window, and began slowly 
 to cross herself, gazing with all her eyes at the great 
 village church, in front of which the invalid's carriage 
 was now passing. 
 
 The two vehicles came to a stop together at the 
 post-house. The sick woman's husband and the doc- 
 
THREE D EAT IIS. 289 
 
 tor dismounted from the barouche, and came to the 
 coach. 
 
 " How are you feeling? " asked the doctor, taking 
 her pulse. 
 
 "Well, my clear, aren't you fatigued?" asked the 
 husband, in French. "Wouldn't you like to go 
 out?" 
 
 Matriosha, gathering up the bundles, squeezed her- 
 self into the corner, so as not to interfere with the 
 conversation. 
 
 "No matter, it's all the same thing," replied the 
 invalid. " I will not get out." 
 
 The husband, after standing there a little while, 
 went into the post-house. Matriosha, jumping from 
 the carriage, tiptoed across the muddy road, into the 
 enclosure. 
 
 "If I am miserable, there is no reason why the 
 rest of you should not have breakfast," said the sick 
 woman, smiling faintly to the doctor, who was standing 
 by her window. 
 
 "It makes no difference to them how I am," she 
 remarked to herself as the doctor, turning from her 
 with slow step, started to run up the steps of the station- 
 house. " They are well, and it's all the same to them. 
 O my God!" 
 
 " How now, Eduard Ivanovitch," said the husband, 
 as he met the doctor, and rubbing his hands with a gay 
 smile. "I have ordered my travelling-case brought; 
 what do you say to that? " 
 
 "That's worth while," replied the doctor. 
 
 "Well now, how about kerf" asked the husband 
 with a sigh, lowering his voice and raising his brows. 
 
 "I have told you that she cannot reach Moscow, 
 much less Italy, especially in such weather." 
 
290 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 "What is to be doue, then? Oh! my God! my 
 God!" 
 
 The husband covered his eyes with his hand. . . . 
 44 Give it here," Km Added, addressing his man, who 
 came bringing the travelling-case. 
 
 41 You'll have to stop somewhere on the route," 
 replied the doctor, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 4k But tell me, how can that be done? " rejoined the 
 husband. " I have done every thing to keep her from 
 going : I have spoken to her of our means, and of our 
 children whom we should have to leave behind, and of 
 my business. She would not hear a word. She has 
 made her plans for living abroad, as though she were 
 well. But if I should tell her what her real condition 
 is, it would kill her." 
 
 44 Well, she is a dead woman now : j t ou may as well 
 know it, Vasili Dmitritch. A person cannot live with- 
 out lungs, and there is no way of making lungs grow 
 again. It is melancholy, it is hard, but what is to be 
 done about it? It is my business and yours to make 
 her last days as easy as possible. It is the confessor 
 that is needed here " 
 
 " Oh, my God ! Now just perceive how I am situ- 
 ated, in speaking to her of her last will. Let come 
 whatever may, yet I cannot speak of that. And yet 
 you know how good she is." 
 
 "Try at least to persuade her to wait until the 
 roads are frozen," said the doctor, shaking his head 
 significantly: 4t something might happen during the 
 journey." 
 
 "Akshisha, oh, Aksiiisha ! " cried the superintend- 
 ent's daughter, throwing a cloak over her head and 
 tiptoeing down the muddy back steps. 44 Come along. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 291 
 
 Let us have a look at the Shirkinskaya lady : they say 
 she's got lung-trouble, and they're taking her abroad. 
 I never saw how any one looked in consumption." 
 
 Aksiusha jumped down from the door-sill ; and the 
 two girls, hand in hand, hurried out of the gates. 
 Shortening their steps, they walked by the coach, and 
 stared in at the lowered window. The invalid bent her 
 head toward them ; but when she saw their inquisitive- 
 ness, she frowned and turnecl away. 
 
 " Oh, de-e-ar ! " said the superintendent's daughter, 
 vigorously shaking her head. . . . " How wonderfully 
 pretty she used to be, and how she has changed ! It is 
 terrible ! Did you see? Did you see, Aksiiisha? " 
 
 " Yes, but how thin she is!" assented Aksiusha. 
 " Let us go by and look again ; we'll make believe go 
 to the well. Did you see, she turned away from us ; 
 still I got a good view of her. Isn't it too bad, 
 Masha?" 
 
 " Yes, but what terrible mud ! " replied Masha, and 
 both of them started to run back within the gates. 
 
 " It's evident that I have become a fright," thought 
 the sick woman. ..." But we must hurry, hurry, and 
 get abroad, and there I shall soon get well." 
 
 "Well, and how are you, my dear?" inquired the 
 husband, coming to the carriage with still a morsel of 
 something in his mouth. 
 
 "Always one and the same question," thought the 
 sick woman, "and he's even eating! " 
 
 "It's no consequence," she murmured between her 
 teeth. 
 
 " Do you know, m} 7 dear, I am afraid that this jour- 
 ney in such weather will only make you worse. 
 Eduard Ivanitch says the same thing. Hadn't we 
 better turn back ? ' ' 
 
292 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 She maintained an angry silence. 
 
 " The weather will Improve maybe, the roads will 
 become good, and that would be better for you ; then 
 at least we could start all together." 
 
 " Pardon me. If I had not listened to you so long, 
 I should at this moment be at Berlin and have entirely 
 recovered." 
 
 M What's to be done, my angel? it was impossible, as 
 you know. But now if you would wait a month, you 
 would be ever so much better ; I could finish up my 
 business, and we could take the children with us." 
 
 " The children are well, and I am ill." 
 
 u But just see here, my love, if in this weather you 
 should grow worse on the road. ... At least we 
 should be at home." 
 
 u What is the use of being at home? . . . Die at 
 home?" replied the invalid peevishly. 
 
 But the word die evidently startled her, and she 
 turned upon her husband a supplicating and inquiring 
 look. He dropped his eyes, and said nothing. 
 
 The sick woman's mouth suddenly contracted in a 
 childish fashion, and the tears sprang to her eyes. 
 Her husband covered his face with his handkerchief, 
 and silently turned from the carriage. 
 
 " No, I will go," cried the invalid ; and lifting her 
 eyes to the sky, she clasped her hands, and began to 
 whisper incoherent words. "My God! why must it 
 be?" she said, and the tears flowed more violently. 
 She prayed long and fervently, but still there was just 
 the same sense of constriction and pain in her chest, 
 just the same gray melancholy in the sky and the fields 
 and the road ; just the same autumnal mist, neither 
 thicker nor more tenuous, but ever the same in its 
 monotony, falling on the muddy highway, on the roofs, 
 
THREE DEATHS. 293 
 
 on the carriage, and on the sheepskin coats of the 
 drivers, who were talking in strong, gay voices, as they 
 were oiling and adjusting the carriage. 
 
294 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 II. 
 
 The coach was ready, but the driver loitered. He 
 had gone into the driver's cottage, 1 where it was warm, 
 close, dark, and suffocating ; smelling of human occu- 
 pation, of cooking bread, of cabbage, and of sheepskin 
 garments. 
 
 Several drivers were in the room ; the cook was 
 engaged near the oven, on top of which lay a sick man 
 wrapped up in pelts. 
 
 44 Uncle Khveodor! hey! Uncle Khveodor," called 
 a young man, the driver, in a tulup, and with his knout 
 in his belt, coming into the room, and addressing the 
 sick man. 
 
 "What do you want, rattlepate? What are you 
 calling to Fyedka 2 for ? " demanded one of the drivers. 
 " There's your carriage waiting for you." 
 
 44 1 want to borrow his boots. Mine are worn out," 
 replied the young fellow, tossing back his curls and 
 straightening his mittens in his belt. 44 Why? is he 
 asleep? Say, Uncle Khveodor ! " he insisted, going to 
 the oven. 
 
 44 What is* it? " a weak voice was heard saying, and 
 a blowsy, emaciated face was lifted up from the oven. 
 
 A broad, gaunt hand, bloodless and covered with 
 hairs, pulled up his overcoat over the dirty shirt that 
 covered his bony shoulder. 44 Give me something to 
 drink, brother ; what is it you want? " 
 
 1 izba. * Fyedka and Fyedya are diminutives of Feodor, Theodore. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 295 
 
 The young fellow handed him a small dish of water. 
 
 u I say, Fye\lya," said he, hesitating, M I reckon you 
 won't want your new boots now; let me have them? 
 Probably you won't need them any more." 
 
 The sick man dropping his weary head down to the 
 lacquered bowl, and dipping his thin, hanging mustache 
 in the brown water, drank feebly and eagerly. 
 
 His tangled beard was unclean ; his sunken, clouded 
 eyes were with difficulty raised to the young man's face. 
 When he had finished drinking, he tried to raise his 
 hand to wipe his wet lips, but his strength failed him, 
 and he wiped them on the sleeve of his overcoat. 
 Silently, and breathing with difficulty through his nose, 
 he looked straight into the young man's eyes, and tried 
 to collect his strength. 
 
 " Maybe you have promised them to some one else? " 
 said the young driver. u If that's so, all right. The 
 worst of it is, it is wet outside, and I have to go out 
 to nvy work, and so I said to myself, ' I reckon I'll 
 ask Fy£dka for his boots ; I reckon he won't be need- 
 ing them.' But maybe you will need them, — just 
 say". . . 
 
 Something began to bubble up and rumble in the 
 sick man's chest ; he bent over, and began to strangle, 
 with a cough that rattled in his throat. 
 
 " Now I should like to know where he would need 
 them?" unexpectedly snapped out the cook, angrily 
 addressing the whole hovel. "This is the second 
 month that he has not crept down from the oven. Just 
 see how he is all broken up ! and you can hear how it 
 must hurt him inside. Where would he need boots? 
 They would not think of burying him in new ones ! 
 And it was time long ago, God pardon me the sin 
 of saying so. Just see how he chokes ! He ought to 
 
296 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 be taken from this hovel to another, or somewhere. 
 They say there's hospitals in the city ; but what's you 
 going to do? he take9 up the whole room, and that's 
 too much. There isn't any room at all. And yet you 
 are expected to keep neat." 
 
 " Hey ! Sery6ha, come along, take your place, the 
 people are waiting," cried the head man of the station, 
 coming to the door. 
 
 Seryoha started to go without waiting for his reply, 
 but the sick man during his cough intimated by his 
 eyes that he was going to speak. 
 
 " You can take the boots, Seryoha," said he, con- 
 quering the cough and getting his breath a little. 
 44 Only, do you hear, buy me a stone when I am dead," 
 he added hoarsely. 
 
 44 Thank you, uncle ; then I will take them, and as 
 for the stone, — k%-6tl — I will buy you one." 
 
 44 There, children, you are witnesses," the sick man 
 was able to articulate, and then once more he bent over 
 and began to choke. 
 
 44 All right, we have heard," said one of the drivers. 
 " But run, Seryoha, or else the starosta will be after 3-ou 
 again. You know Lady Shirkinskaya is sick." 
 
 Seryoha quickly pulled off his ragged, unwieldy 
 boots, and flung them under the bench. Uncle Feodor's 
 fitted his feet exactly, and the young driver could not 
 keep his eyes off them as he went to the carriage. 
 
 u Ek! what splendid boots ! Here's some grease," 
 called another driver with the grease-pot in his hand, 
 as Seryoha mounted to his box and gathered up the 
 reins. " Get them for nothing? " 
 
 44 So you're jealous, are 3 r ou?" cried Ser} r 6ha, lift- 
 ing up and tucking around his legs the tails of his 
 overcoat. "Off with you, my darlings," he cried to 
 
THREE DEATHS. 297 
 
 the horses, cracking his knout ; and the coach and 
 barouche with their occupants, trunks, and other be- 
 longings, were hidden in the thick autumnal mist, and 
 rapidly whirled away over the wet road. 
 
 The sick driver remained on the oven in the stifling 
 hovel, and, not being able to throw off the phlegm, by 
 a supreme effort turned over on the other side, and 
 stopped coughing. 
 
 Till evening there was a continual coming and going, 
 and eating of meals in the hovel, and the sick man was 
 not noticed. Before night came on, the cook climbed 
 upon the oven, and pulled off the sheepskin from his 
 legs. 
 
 " Don't be angry with me, Nastasya," murmured 
 the sick man. " I shall soon leave you your room." 
 
 " All right, all right, it's of no consequence. But 
 what is the matter with you, uncle? Tell me." 
 
 " All my innards are gnawed out. God knows what 
 it is!" 
 
 " And I don't doubt your gullet hurts you when you 
 cough so?" 
 
 " It hurts me all over. My death is at hand, that's 
 what *t is. Okh! Okh! Okh! " groaned the sick man. 
 
 " Now cover up your legs this way," said Nastasya, 
 comfortably arranging the overcoat so that it would 
 cover him, and then getting down from the oven. 
 
 During the night the hovel was faintly lighted by a 
 single taper. Nastasya and a dozen drivers were 
 sleeping, snoring loudly, on the floor and the benches. 
 Only the sick man feebly choked and coughed, and 
 tossed on the oven. 
 
 In the morning no sound was heard from him. 
 
 M I saw something wonderful in my sleep," said the 
 cook, as she stretched herself in the early twilight the 
 
► 298 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 next morning. " I seemed to see Uncle Khve6dor get 
 down from the oven, and go out to cut wood. 4 Look 
 here,' says he, 4 I'm going to help you, N&sya ; ' and I 
 says to him, 4 How can you split wood?' but he seizes 
 the hatchet, and begins to cut so fast, so fast that 
 nothing but chips fly. 4 Why,' says I, 4 ain't you been 
 sick?' — 4 No,' says he, 'I am well,' and he kind of 
 lifted up the axe, and I was scared ; and I screamed 
 and woke up. He can't be dead, can he? — Uncle 
 Khve6dor ! hey, uncle ! " 
 
 Feodor did not move. 
 
 44 Now he can't be dead, can he? Go and see," 
 said one of the drivers who had just waked up. The 
 emaciated hand, covered with reddish hair, that hung 
 down from the oven, was cold and pale. 
 
 44 Go tell the superintendent; it seems he is dead," 
 said the driver. 
 
 Feodor had no relatives. He was a stranger. On 
 the next day they buried him in the new burying- 
 ground behind the grove ; and Nast&sya for many days 
 had to tell everybody of the dream which she had seen, 
 and how she had been the first to discover that Uncle 
 Feodor was dead. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 299 
 
 III. 
 
 Spring had come. 
 
 Along the wet streets of the city swift streamlets ran 
 purling between bits of ice ; bright were the colors of 
 people's dresses and the tones of their voices, as they 
 hurried along. In the walled gardens, the buds on the 
 trees were bourgeoning, and the fresh breeze swayed 
 their branches with a soft gentle murmur. Everywhere 
 transparent drops were forming and falling. . . . 
 
 The sparrows chattered incoherently, and fluttered 
 about on their little wings. On the sunny side, on the 
 walls, houses, and trees, all was full of life and bril- 
 liancy. The sky, and the earth, and the heart of man 
 overflowed with youth and J03'. 
 
 In front of a great seignorial mansion, in one of the 
 principal streets, fresh straw was laid ; in the house 
 lay that same invalid whom we saw hastening abroad. 
 
 Near the closed doors of the house stood the sick 
 lady's husband, and a lady well along in years. On a 
 sofa sat the confessor, with cast-down eyes, holding 
 something wrapped up under his stole. 1 In one corner, 
 in a Voltaire easy-chair, reclined an old lady, the sick 
 woman's mother, weeping violently. 
 
 Near her the maid stood holding a clean handker- 
 chief, ready for the old lady's use when she should 
 ask for it. Another maid was rubbing the old lady's 
 temples, and blowing on her gray head underneath her 
 cap. 
 
 1 Called epitraehilion in the Greek Church. 
 
800 THREE DEATIIS. 
 
 " Well, Christ be with you, my dear," said the hus- 
 band to the elderly lady who was standing with him 
 near the door : " she lias such confidence in you ; you 
 know how to talk with her ; go and speak with her a 
 little while, my darling, please go! " 
 
 He was about to open the door for her; but his 
 cousin held him back, putting her handkerchief several 
 times to her eyes, and shaking her head. 
 
 " There, now she will not see that I have been weep- 
 ing," said she, and, opening the door herself, went to 
 the invalid. 
 
 The husband was in the greatest excitement, and 
 seemed quite beside himself. He started to go over to 
 the old mother, but after taking a few steps he turned 
 around, walked the length of the room, and approached 
 the priest. 
 
 The priest looked at him, raised his brows toward 
 heaven, and sighed. The thick gray beard also was 
 lifted and fell again. 
 
 " My God ! my God ! " said the husband. 
 
 "What can you do?" exclaimed the confessor, 
 sighing and again lifting up his brows and beard, and 
 letting them drop. 
 
 "And the old mother there!" exclaimed the hus- 
 band, almost in despair. " She will not be able to 
 endure it. You see, she loved her so, she loved her so, 
 that she ... I don't know. You might try, holy 
 father, 1 to calm her a little, and persuade her to go 
 away." 
 
 The confessor arose and went over to the old lady. 
 
 " It is true, no one can appreciate a mother's heart," 
 said he, " but God is compassionate." 
 
 The old lady's face was suddenly convulsed, and a 
 hysterical sob shook her frame. 
 
 1 bdtiushka. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 301 
 
 "God is compassionate," repeated the priest, when 
 she had grown a little calmer. " I will tell you, in my 
 parish there was a sick man, and much worse than 
 Marya Dmitrievna, and he, though he was only a shop- 
 keeper, 1 was cured in a very short time, by means of 
 herbs. And this very same shopkeeper is now in 
 Moscow. I have told Vasili Dmitrievitch about him ; 
 it might be tried, you know. At all events, it would 
 satisfy the invalid. With God, all things are pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " No, she won't get well," persisted the old lady. 
 " Why should God have taken her, and not me? " 
 
 And again the hysterical sobbing overcame her so 
 violently that she fainted away. 
 
 The invalid's husband hid his face in his hands, and 
 rushed from the room. 
 
 In the corridor the first person whom he met was a 
 six-year-old boy, who was chasing his little sister with 
 all his might and main. 
 
 " Do you bid me take the children to their mamma? " 
 inquired the nurse. 
 
 " No, she is not able to see them. The} 7 distract 
 her." 
 
 The lad stopped for a moment, and after looking 
 eagerly into his father's face, he cut a dido with his 
 leg, and with merry shouts ran on. "I'm playing 
 she's a horse, papasha," cried the little fellow, pointing 
 to his sister. 
 
 Meantime, in the next room, the cousin had taken 
 her seat near the sick woman, and was skilfully bring- 
 ing the conversation by degrees round so as to prepare 
 her for the thought of death. The doctor stood by the 
 window, mixing some draught. 
 
 1 meshchdnin. 
 
302 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 The invalid in a white dressing-gown, all surrounded 
 by cushions, was sitting up in bed, and gazed silently 
 at her cousin. 
 
 " Ah, my dear!" she exclaimed, unexpectedly in- 
 terrupting her, "don't try to prepare me; don't treat 
 me like a little child ! I am a Christian woman. I 
 know all about it. I know that I have not long to live ; 
 I know that if my husband had heeded me sooner, I 
 should have been in Italy, and possibly, yes probably, 
 should have been well by this time. They all told him 
 so. But what is to be done? it's as God saw fit. We 
 all of us have sinned, I know that ; but I hope in the 
 mercy of God, that all will be pardoned, ought to be 
 pardoned. I am trying to sound my own heart. I 
 also have committed many sins, my love. But how 
 much I have suffered in atonement ! I have tried to 
 bear my sufferings patiently " . . . 
 
 44 Then shall I have the confessor come in, my love? 
 It will be all the easier for you, after you have been 
 absolved," said the cousin. 
 
 The sick woman dropped her head in token of assent. 
 "O God ! pardon me a sinner," she whispered. 
 
 The cousin went out, and beckoned to the confessor. 
 44 She is an angel," she said to the husband, with tears 
 in her eyes. The husband wept. The priest went into 
 the sick-room ; the old lady still remained unconscious, 
 and in the room beyond all was perfectly quiet. At 
 the end of five minutes the confessor came out, and, 
 taking off his stole, arranged his hair. 
 
 "Thanks be to the Lord, she is calmer now," said 
 he. " She wishes to see you." 
 
 The cousin and the husband went to the sick-room. 
 The invalid, gently weeping, was gazing at the images. 
 
 44 1 congratulate you, my love," said the husband. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 303 
 
 " Thank you. How well I feel now ! what ineffable 
 joy I experience! " said the sick woman, and a faint 
 smile played over her thin lips. " How merciful God 
 is! Is it not so? He is merciful and omnipotent! " 
 And again with an eager prayer she turned her tear- 
 ful eyes towards the holy images. 
 
 Then suddenly something seemed to occur to her 
 mind. She beckoned to her husband. 
 
 "You are never willing to do what I desire," said 
 she in a weak and querulous voice. 
 
 The husband, stretching his neck, listened to her 
 submissively. 
 
 "What is it, my love?" 
 
 " How many times I have told you that these doc- 
 tors don't know any thing ! There are uneducated 
 women doctors : they make cures. That's what the 
 good father said. ... A shopkeeper . . . send for 
 him" . . . 
 
 " For whom, my love? " 
 
 "Good heavens! you can never understand me." 
 And the dying woman frowned, and closed her eyes. 
 
 The doctor came to her, and took her hand. Her 
 pulse was evidently growing feebler and feebler. He 
 made a sign to the husband. The sick woman re- 
 marked this gesture, and looked around in fright. The 
 cousin turned away to hide her tears. 
 
 " Don't weep, don't torment yourselves on my ac- 
 count," said the invalid. " That takes away from me 
 my last comfort." 
 
 u You are an angel ! " exclaimed the cousin, kissing 
 her hand. 
 
 " No, kiss me here. They only kiss the hands of 
 those who are dead. My God ! my God ! ' ' 
 
 That same evening the sick woman was a corpse, 
 
304 thr /■:/■: deaths. 
 
 and the corpse in the coffin lay in the parlor of the 
 great mansion. In the immense room, the doors of 
 which were closed, sat the clerk, 1 and with a monoto- 
 nous voice read the Psalms of David through his nose. 
 
 The bright glare from the wax candles in the lofty 
 silver candelabra fell on the white brow of the dead, 
 on the heavy waxen hands, on the stiff folds of the 
 cerement which brought out into awful relief the knees 
 and the feet. 
 
 The clerk, not varying his tones, continued to read 
 on steadily, and in the silence of the chamber of death 
 his words rang out and died away. Occasionally from 
 distant rooms came the voice of children and their 
 romping. 
 
 "Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled; thou takest 
 away their breath, they die and return to their dust. 
 
 " Tliou sendest forth thy Spirit, they are created; 
 and thou renewest the face of the earth. 
 
 "The glory of the Lord shall endure forever: the 
 Lord shall rejoice in his works.** 
 
 The face of the dead was stern and majestic. But 
 there was no motion either on the pure cold brow, or 
 the firmly closed lips. She was all attention. But did 
 she perhaps now understand these grand words? 
 
 1 diachdk. 
 
THREE DEATHS. 305 
 
 IV. 
 
 At the end of a month, over the grave of the dead a 
 stone chapel was erected. Over the driver's there was 
 as yet no stone, and only the fresh green grass sprout- 
 ed over the mound that served as the sole record of 
 the past existence of a man. 
 
 "It will be a sin and a shame, Sery6ha," said the 
 cook at the station-house one day, " if you don't buy 
 a gravestone for Khveodor. You kept saying, 'It's 
 winter, winter,' but now why don't you keep your 
 word ? I heard it all. He has already come back once 
 to ask why you don't do it ; if you don't buy him one, 
 he will come again, he will choke you." 
 
 "Well, now, have I denied it?" urged Seiyoha. 
 " I am going to buy him a stone, as I said I would. 
 I can get one for a ruble and a half. I have not for- 
 gotten about it ; I'll have to get it. As soon as I 
 happen to be in town, then I'll buy him one." 
 
 " You ought at least to put up a cross, that's what 
 you ought to do," said an old driver. " It isn't right 
 at all. You're wearing those boots now." 
 
 "Yes. But where could I get him a cross? You 
 wouldn't want to make one out of an old piece of 
 stick, would you? " 
 
 " What is that 3 7 ou say? Make one out of an old 
 piece of stick? No ; take your axe, go out to the wood 
 a little earlier than usual, and you can hew him out 
 one. Take a little ash-tree, and you can make one. 
 
806 THREE DEATHS. 
 
 You can have a covered cross. If you go then, you 
 won't have to give the watchman a little drink of vodka. 
 One doesn't want to give vodka for every trifle. Now, 
 yesterday I broke my axletrec, and I go and hew out 
 a new one of green wood. No one said a word." 
 
 Early the next morning, ahnost before dawn, Ser- 
 3'6ha took his axe, and went to the wood. 
 
 Over all things hung a cold, dead veil of falling 
 mist, as yet untouched by the rays of the sun. 
 
 The east gradually grew brighter, reflecting its pale 
 'light over the vault of heaven still covered by light 
 clouds. Not a single grass-blade below, not a single 
 leaf on the topmost branches of the tree-top, waved. 
 Only from time to time could be heard the sounds of 
 fluttering wings in the thicket, or a rustling on the 
 ground broke in upon the silence of the forest. 
 
 Suddenly a strange sound, foreign to this nature, 
 resounded and died away at the edge of the forest. 
 Again the noise sounded, and was monotonousl}' re- 
 peated again and again, at the foot of one of the 
 ancient, immovable trees. A tree-top began to shake 
 in an extraordinary manner; the juicy leaves whis- 
 pered something ; and the warbler, sitting on one of 
 the branches, flew off a couple of times with a shrill 
 cry, and, wagging its tail, finally perched on another 
 tree. 
 
 The axe rang more and more frequently ; the white 
 chips, full of sap, were scattered upon the dewy grass, 
 and a slight cracking was heard beneath the blows. 
 
 The tree trembled with all its body, leaned over, and 
 quickly straightened itself with a fearful shudder on 
 its base. 
 
 For an instant all was still, then once more the 
 tree bent over ; a crash was heard in its trunk ; and 
 
THREE DEATHS. 307 
 
 tearing the thicket, and dragging down the branches, 
 it plunged toward the damp earth. 
 
 The noise of the axe and of footsteps ceased. 
 
 The warbler uttered a cry, and flew higher. The 
 branch which she grazed with her wings shook for an 
 instant, and then came to rest like all the others with 
 their foliage. 
 
 The trees, more 303'ously than ever, extended their 
 branches over the new space that had been made in 
 their midst. 
 
 The first sunbeams, breaking through the cloud, 
 gleamed in the sky, and shone along the earth and 
 heavens. 
 
 The mist, in billows, began to float along the hol- 
 lows ; the dew, gleaming, played on the green foliage ; 
 translucent white clouds hurried along their azure path. 
 The birds hopped about in the thicket, and, as 
 though beside themselves, voiced their happiness ; the 
 juicy leaves joyfully and contentedly whispered on the 
 tree-tops ; and the branches of the living trees slowly 
 and majestically waved over the dead and fallen tree. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 A Russian of rank was serving as an officer in the 
 army of the Caucasus. His name was Zhilin. 
 
 There came to him one day a letter from his home. 
 His aged mother wrote him : u I am now getting along 
 in years, and before I die I should like to see my be- 
 loved son. Come and bid me farewell, lay me in the 
 ground, and then with my blessing return again to your 
 service. And I have been finding a bride for you, and 
 she is intelligent and handsome and has property. If 
 you like, you can marry and settle down together." 
 
 Zhilin cogitated, "It is very true : the old lady has 
 been growing feeble ; maybe I shall not have a chance 
 to see her again. Let us go, and if the bride is pretty 
 — then I might marry." 
 
 He went to his colonel, got his leave of absence, took 
 his farewell of his comrades, gave the soldiers of his 
 command nine gallons * of vodka as a farewell treat, and 
 made his arrangements to depart. 
 
 There was war at that time in the Caucasus. The 
 roads were not open for travel either by day or night. 
 If any of the Russians rode or walked outside of the 
 fortress, the Tatars were likely either to kill him or 
 
 1 Four vedros, equivalent exactly to 8.80 gallons. 
 308 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 309 
 
 carry him off to the mountains. And it was arranged 
 that twice a week an escort of soldiers should go from 
 fortress to fortress. In front and behind marched the 
 soldiers, and the travellers rode in the middle. 
 
 It was now summer-time. At sunrise the baggage- 
 train was made up behind the fortification ; the guard 
 of soldiery marched ahead, and the procession moved 
 along the road. . . 
 
 Zhilin was on horseback, and his effects were on a 
 cart that formed part of the train. 
 
 They had twenty-five versts 1 to travel. The train 
 marched slowly ; sometimes the soldiers halted ; some- 
 times a wagon-wheel came off, or a horse balked, and 
 all had to stop and wait. 
 
 The sun was alreadj T past the zenith, but the train 
 had only gone half way, so great were the dust and 
 heat. The sun was baking hot, and nowhere was there 
 shelter. A bald steppe ; not a tree or a shrub on the 
 road. 
 
 Zhilin rode on ahead, occasionally stopping and wait- 
 ing till the train caught up with him. He would listen, 
 and hear the signal on the horn to halt again. And 
 Zhilin thought, kl Would I better go on alone without 
 the soldiers? I have a good horse under me ; if I fall 
 in with the Tatars, I can escape. Or shall I wait? " 
 
 He kept stopping and pondering. And just then 
 another officer, also on horseback, rode up to him ; his 
 name was Kostuilin, and he had a musket. 
 
 He said, " Zhilin, let us ride on ahead together. I 
 am so hungry that I cannot stand it any longer, and 
 the heat too, — you could wring my shirt out !" Kos- 
 tuilin was a heavy, stout, ruddy man, and the sweat 
 was dripping from him. 
 
 1 Sixteen and a half uiilee. 
 
310 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 Zhilin reflected, and said, " And your musket is 
 loaded?" 
 
 "It is." 
 
 " All right, let us go. Only one condition : not to 
 separate.*' 
 
 And they started on up the road. They rode along 
 the steppe, talking and looking on each side. There 
 was a wide sweep of view. As soon as the steppe 
 came to an end, the road went into a pass between two 
 mountains. 
 
 And Zhilin said, " I must ride up on that mountain, 
 and reconnoitre, otherwise you see they might come 
 down from the mountain and surprise us." 
 
 But Kostuilin said, u What is there to reconnoitre? 
 Let us go ahead." 
 
 Zhilin did not heed him. 
 
 M No," says he, u you wait for me here below. I'll 
 just glance around." 
 
 And he spurred his horse up the mountain to the 
 left. 
 
 The horse that Zhilin rode was a hunter ; he had 
 bought him out of a drove of colts, paying a hundred 
 rubles for him, and he had himself trained him. He 
 bore him up the steep slope as on wings. He had 
 hardly reached the summit when before him less than 
 seven hundred feet distant mounted Tatars were stand- 
 ing, — thirty men. 
 
 He saw them, and started to turn back, but the Tatars 
 had caught sight of him ; they set out in pursuit of 
 him, unstrapping their weapons as they gallop. Zhilin 
 dashes down the precipice with all the speed of his 
 horse, and cries to Kostuilin, " Fire your gun ! " and 
 to his horse he says, though not aloud, " Little mother, 
 carry me safely, don't stumble ; if you trip, 1 am lost. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 311 
 
 If we get back to the gun, we won't fall into their 
 hands." 
 
 But Kostuilin, instead of waiting for him, as soon 
 as he saw the Tatars, galloped on with all his might 
 toward the fortress. With his whip he belabored his 
 horse, first on one side, then on the other ; all that 
 could be seen through the dust, was the horse switching 
 her tail. 
 
 Zhilin saw that his case was desperate. The gun 
 was gone ; nothing was to be done with a sabre alone. 
 He turned his horse back toward the train ; he thought 
 he might escape that way. 
 
 But in front of him, he sees that six are galloping 
 down the steep. His horse is good, but theirs are 
 better ; and besides, they have got the start of him. 
 He started to wheel about, and was going to dash 
 ahead again, but his horse had got momentum, and 
 could not be held back ; he flew straight down toward 
 them. 
 
 He §ees a red-bearded Tatar approaching him on a 
 gray mare. He is gaining on him ; he gnashes his 
 teeth ; he is getting his gun ready. 
 
 u Well," thinks Zhilin, " I know you devils ; if you 
 should take me prisoner, you would put me in a hole, 
 and flog me with a whip. I won't give myself up 
 alive." 
 
 Now, Zhilin was not of great size, but he was an 
 uhlan. He drew his sabre, spurred his horse straight 
 at the red-bearded Tatar. He says to himself, " Either 
 I will crush him with my horse, or I will hack him 
 down with my sabre." 
 
 Zhilin, however, did not reach the place on horse- 
 back ; suddenly, behind him, gun-shots were fired at 
 the horse. The horse fell headlong, and pinned 
 Zhilin's leg to the ground. 
 
312 A PR/SOXKR IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 He tried to arise; but already ill-smelling Tatars 
 were sitting on him, and pinioning his hands behind 
 his baek. 
 
 He burst from them, knocking the Tatars over; but 
 three others had dismounted from their horses, and 
 began to beat him on the head with their gun-stocks. 
 
 His sight failed him, and he staggered. 
 
 The Tatars seized him, took from their saddles extra 
 saddle-girths, bent his arms behind his back, fastened 
 them with a Tatar knot, and lifted him up. 
 
 They took his sabre from him, pulled off his boots, 
 made a thorough search of him, pulled out his money 
 and his watch, tore his clothes all to pieces. 
 
 Zhilin glanced at kis horse. The poor beast lay as 
 he had fallen, on his side, and was kicking, vainly 
 trying to rise. In his head was a hole, and from the 
 hole the black blood was pouring ; the dust for an 
 arshin around was wet with it. 
 
 A Tatar went to the horse to remove the saddle. 
 He was still kicking, so the man took out his dagger, 
 and cut his throat. The throat gave a whistling sound, 
 a trembling ran over the body, and all was over. 
 
 The Tatars took off the saddle and the other trap- 
 pings. The one with the red beard mounted his horse, 
 and the others lifted Zhilin behind him to keep him 
 from falling ; they fastened him with the reins to the 
 Tatar's belt, and thus they carried him off to the 
 mountains. 
 
 Zhilin sat behind, swaying and bumping his face 
 against the stinking Tatar's back. 
 
 All that he could see before him was the healthy 
 Tatar back, and the sinewy neck, and a smooth- 
 shaven nape, showing blue beneath the cap. 
 
 Zhilin' s head ached ; the blood trickled into his 
 
A PRISONER IN TIIE CAUCASUS. 313 
 
 eyes. And it was impossible for him to get a more 
 comfortable position on the horse, or wipe away the 
 blood. His arms were so tightly bound that his 
 collar-bones ached. They rode long from mountain 
 to mountain ; they forded a river ; then they entered 
 a highway, and rode along a valle}'. Zhilin tried to 
 follow the route that they took him ; but his eyes were 
 glued together with blood, and it was impossible for 
 him to turn round. 
 
 It began to grow dark ; they crossed still another 
 river, and began to climb a rocky mountain. There 
 was an odor of smoke. The barking of dogs was 
 heard. 
 
 They had reached an aid. 1 
 
 The Tatars dismounted. The Tatar children came 
 running up, and surrounded Zhilin, whistling and 
 exulting. Finally they began to fling stones at him. 
 
 The Tatar drove away the children, lifted Zhilin 
 from the horse, and called a servant. 
 
 A Noga'i, with prominent cheek-bones, came at the 
 call. He wore only a shirt. The shirt was torn ; his 
 whole breast was bare. The Tatar said something to 
 him. The servant brought a foot-stock. It consisted 
 of two oaken blocks provided with iron rings, and in 
 one of the rings was a clamp with a lock. They un- 
 fastened Zhilin's arms, put on the stock, and took him 
 to a barn, pushed him in, and shut the door. 
 
 Zhilin fell on the manure. As he lay there, he felt 
 round in the darkness, and when he had found a place 
 that was less foul, he stretched himself out. 
 
 1 Aul = Tatar's village. — Author's note. 
 
814 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ziiilin scarcely slept that night. The nights were 
 short. He saw through a crack that it was growing 
 light. Zhilin got up, widened the crack, and managed 
 to look out. 
 
 Through the crack he could see a road leading down 
 from the mountain ; at the right, a Tatar saklia * with 
 two trees near it. A black dog was lying on the road ; 
 a she-goat with her kids was walking by, all of them 
 shaking their tails. 
 
 He saw coming down the mountain a young Tatar 
 girl in a variegated shirt, ungirdled, in pantalettes and 
 boots ; her head was covered with a kaftan, and on it 
 she bore a great tin water-jug. 
 
 She walked along, swaying and bending her back, 
 and holding by the hand a little Tatar urchin, with 
 shaven head, who wore a single shirt. 
 
 After the Tatar maiden had passed with her water- 
 jug, the red-bearded Tatar of the evening before came 
 out, wearing a silk beshmet, a silver dagger in his belt, 
 and sandals on his bare feet. On his head was a high 
 cap of sheep-skin, dyed black, and with the point hang- 
 ing down. He came out, stretched himself, stroked 
 his red beard. He paused, gave some order to the 
 servant, and went off somewhere. 
 
 Then two children on horseback came along on their 
 way to the watering-trough. The hind-quarters of the 
 horses were wet. 
 
 I * A mountain -hut ill the Caucasus. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 315 
 
 Other shaven-headed youngsters, with nothing but 
 shirts on, and nothing on their legs, formed a little 
 band, and came to the barn ; they got a dry stick, 
 and stuck it through the crack. 
 
 Zhilin growled " ukh " at them. The children began 
 to cry, and scatter in every direction as fast as their 
 legs would cany them ; onl}- their bare knees glistened. 
 But Zhilin began to be thirsty ; his throat was parched. 
 He said to himself, " I wonder if they won't come to 
 look after me ? " 
 
 Suddenly the barn-doors are thrown open. 
 
 The red Tatar came in, and with him another, of 
 slighter stature and of dark complexion. His eyes 
 were bright and black, his cheeks ruddy, his little 
 beard well trimmed, his face jolly and always en- 
 livened with a grin. 
 
 The dark man's clothing was still richer : a silk 
 beshmet of blue silk, embroidered with gold lace. In 
 his belt, a great silver dagger; handsome morocco 
 slippers embroidered with silver, and over the fine 
 slippers he wore a larger pair of stout ones. His cap 
 was tall, of white lamb's wool. 
 
 The red Tatar came in, muttered something, gave 
 vent to some abusive language, and then stood leaning 
 against the wall, fingering his dagger, and scowling 
 under his brows at Zhilin, like a wolf. 
 
 But the dark Tatar, nervous and active, and always 
 on the go, as though he were made of springs, came 
 straight up to Zhilin, squatted down on his heels, 
 showed his teeth, tapped him on the shoulder, began 
 to gabble something in his own language, winked his 
 eyes, and, clucking his tongue, kept saying, "A fine 
 Kuss, a fine Kuss ! " l 
 
 i Urus in Tatar. 
 
316 A r/USOXER LV THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 Zhilin did not understand him, and said, "Drink; 
 give me some water." 
 
 The dark one grinned. 
 
 11 A fine Russ ! " and all the time he kept babbling. 
 
 Zhilin signified by his hands and lips that they should 
 give him water. 
 
 The dark one understood, grinned, put his head out 
 of the door, and cried, " Dina ! " 
 
 A young girl came running in, — a slender, lean 
 creature of thirteen, with a face like the dark man's. 
 Evidently she was his daughter. 
 
 She was dressed in a long blue shirt with wide 
 sleeves and without a belt. On the bottom, on the 
 breast, and on the cuffs it was relieved with red trim- 
 mings. She wore on her legs pantalettes and slippers, 
 and over the slippers another pair with high heels. Ou 
 her neck was a necklace wholly composed of half-ruble 
 pieces. Her head was uncovered ; she had her hair in 
 a black braid, and on the braid was a ribbon, and to 
 the ribbon were attached various ornaments and a 
 silver ruble. 
 
 Her father gave her some command. She ran out, 
 and quickly returned, bringing a little tin pitcher. 
 After she had handed him the water, she also squatted 
 on her heels in such a way that her knees were higher 
 than her shoulders. 
 
 She sits that way, and opens her eyes, and stares at 
 Zhilin while he drinks, as though he were some wild 
 beast. 
 
 Zhilin offered to return the pitcher to her. She 
 darted away like a wild goat. Even her father 
 laughed. 
 
 He sent her after something else. She took the 
 pitcher, ran out, and brought back some unleavened 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 317 
 
 bread on a small round board, and again squatted 
 down, and stared without taking her eyes from him. 
 
 The Tatars went out, and again bolted the door. 
 
 After a while the Noga'i also comes to Zhilin, and 
 sa} r s, tk A'i-da, khozydiu, aX-da! " 
 
 But he does not know Russian either. Zhilin, how- 
 ever, perceived that he wished him to go somewhere. 
 
 Zhilin hobbled out with his clog ; it was impossible 
 to walk, so he had to drag one leg. The Noga'i led the 
 way for him. 
 
 He sees before him a Tatar village, of half a score 
 of houses, and the native mosque with its minaret. 
 
 In front of one house stood three horses saddled. 
 Lads held them by the bridle. P'rom this house came 
 the dark Tatar, and waved his hand, signifying that 
 Zhilin was to come to him. He grinned, and kept 
 saying something in his own tongue, and went into the 
 house. 
 
 Zhilin followed him* 
 
 The room was decent ; the walls were smoothly plas- 
 tered with clay. Against the front wall were placed 
 feather-beds ; on the sides hung costly rugs ; on the 
 rugs were guns, pistols, and sabres, all silver-mounted. 
 
 On one side a little oven was set in, on a level with 
 the floor. 
 
 The floor was of earth, clean as a threshing-floor, 
 and the whole of the front portion was covered with 
 felt ; rugs were distributed over the felt, and on the 
 rugs were down pillows. 
 
 On tfie rugs were sitting some Tatars in slippers 
 only, — the dark Tatar, the red-bearded one, and 
 three guests. Behind their backs, down cushions were 
 placed ; and before them on wooden plates were pan- 
 cakes of millet-flour, and melted butter in a cup, and 
 
318 A PJi/SONt'R IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 tlu> Tatar beer, called buza, in a pitcher. They ate 
 with their fingers, and all dipped into the butter. 
 
 The dark man leaped up, hade Zhilin sit on one 
 side, not on a rug but on the bare floor ; going back 
 Again to his rag, he handed his guests cakes and buza. 
 
 The servant showed Zhilin his place ; he himself 
 took off his shoes, placed them by the door in a row 
 with the slippers of the other guests, and took his 
 seat on the felt as near as possible to his masters ; 
 and while they eat he looks at them, and his mouth 
 waters. 
 
 After the Tatars had finished eating, a Tatar woman 
 entered, dressed in the same sort of shirt as the girl 
 wore, and in pantalettes ; her head was covered with 
 a handkerchief. She carried out the butter and the 
 cakes, and brought a handsome finger-bowl, and a 
 pitcher with a narrow nose. 
 
 The Tatars finished washing their hands, then they 
 folded their arms, knelt down, and puffed on all sides, 
 and said their prayers. They talked in their own 
 tongue. 
 
 Then one of the guests, a Tatar, approached Zhilin, 
 and began to speak to him in Russian. kt Kazi Muha- 
 met made you prisoner," said he, pointing to the 
 red-bearded Tatar; " and he has given you to Abdul 
 Murat," indicating the dark one. "Abdul Murat is 
 now your master." 1 
 
 Zhilin said nothing. 
 
 Abdul Murat began to talk, all the time pointing 
 toward Zhilin, and grinned as he talked : * soldat 
 Urus, korosho Urus." 
 
 The interpreter went on to say, " He commands 
 you to write a letter home, and have them send money 
 
 1 khozydln. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 319 
 
 to ransom } T ou. As soon as money is sent, he will set 
 you free." 
 
 Zhilin pondered a little, and then said, " Does he 
 wish a large ransom? " 
 
 The Tatars took counsel together, and then the in- 
 terpreter said, — 
 
 u Three thousand silver rubles." 
 
 " No," replied Zhilin, " I can't pay that." 
 
 Abdul leaped up, began to gesticulate and talk to 
 Zhilin ; he seemed all the time to think that Zhilin un- 
 derstood him. 
 
 The interpreter translated his words. "He means," 
 says he, " how much will you give? " 
 
 Zhilin after pondering a little said, " Five hundred 
 rubles." 
 
 Then the Tatars all began to talk at once. Abdul 
 began to scream at the red-bearded Tatar. He grew 
 so excited as he talked, that the spittle flew from his 
 mouth. 
 
 But the red-bearded Tatar only frowned, and clucked 
 with his tongue. 
 
 When all became silent again, the interpreter said, 
 4 * Five hundred rubles is not enough to buy you of 
 your master. He himself has paid two hundred for 
 you. Kazi Muhamet was in debt to him. He took 
 you for the debt. Three thousand rubles ; it is no use 
 to send less. But if you don't write, they will put you 
 in a hole, and flog you with a whip." 
 
 u Ekhl " thinks Zhilin, " the more cowardly one is, 
 the worse it is for him." He leaped to his feet, and 
 said, — * 
 
 ** Now you tell him, dog that he is, that if he thinks 
 he is going to frighten me, then I will not give him a 
 single kopek nor will I write. 1 am not afraid of you, 
 
320 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 and you will never make me afraid of you, you dog ! " 
 The interpreter translated this, and again they all 
 began to talk at once. 
 
 They gabbled a long time, then the dark one got up 
 and came to Zhilin. 
 
 M Urus," says he, "jigit,jigit Urns!" 
 
 The word jig it among them signifies a brave young 
 man. And he grinned, said something to the inter- 
 preter, and the interpreter said, u Give a thousand 
 rubles." Zhilin would not give in. "I will not pay 
 more than five hundred. But if you kill me, you will 
 get nothing at all." 
 
 The Tatars consulted together, sent out the servant, 
 and they themselves looked first at the door, then at 
 Zhilin. 
 
 The servant returned, followed by a rather stout 
 man in bare feet and almost stripped. His feet also 
 were in stocks. 
 
 Zhilin made an exclamation : he recognized Kos- 
 tuilin. 
 
 And they brought him in, and placed him next his 
 comrade ; the two began to talk together, and the 
 Tatars looked on and listened in silence. 
 
 Zhilin told how it had gone with him ; Kostuilin told 
 how his horse had stood stock still, and his gun had 
 missed fire, and that this same Abdul had overtaken 
 him and captured him. 
 
 Abdul listened, pointed to Kostuilin, and muttered 
 something. The interpreter translated his words to 
 mean that they now both belonged to the same master, 
 and that the one who paid the ransom first would be 
 freed first. "Now," says he to Zhilin, "you lose 
 3 7 our temper so easily, but your comrade is calm ; he 
 has written a letter home ; they will send five thousand 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 321 
 
 silver rubles. And so he will be well fed, and he 
 won't be hurt." 
 
 And Zhilin said, " Let nry comrade do as he pleases. 
 Maybe he is rich. But I am not rich ; I will do as 
 1 have already told you. Kill me if you wish, but it 
 would not do you any good, and I will not pay you 
 more than five hundred rubles." 
 
 They were silent. 
 
 Suddenly Abdul leaped up, brought a little chest, 
 took out a pen, a sheet of paper, and ink, and pushed 
 them into Zhilin's hands, then tapped him on the shoul- 
 der, and said by signs, " Write." He had agreed to 
 take the five hundred rubles. 
 
 "Wait a moment," said Zhilin to the interpreter. 
 "Tell him that he must feed us well, clothe us, and 
 give us good decent foot-wear, and let us stay together. 
 We want to have a good time. And lastly, that he 
 take off these clogs." 
 
 He looked at his Tatar master, and smiled. The 
 master also smiled, and when he learned what was 
 wanted, said, — 
 
 u I will give you the veiy best clothes : a cherkeska l 
 and boots, fit for a wedding. And I will feed you like 
 princes. And if you want to live together, why, you 
 can live in the barn. But it won't do to take away the 
 clogs : you would run away. Only at night will I have 
 them taken off." Then he jumped up, tapped him on 
 the shoulder: " You good, me good." 
 
 Zhilin wrote his letter, but he put on it the wrong 
 address so that it might never reach its destination. 
 He said to himself, " I shall run away." 
 
 The} 7 took Zhilin and Kostuilin to the barn, strewed 
 corn-stalks, gave them water in a pitcher, and bread, 
 
 * A sort of long Circassian cloak. 
 
322 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 two old cherkeski, and some worn-out military boots. 
 It was evident that they had been stolen from some 
 dead soldier. When night came they took off their 
 clogs, and locked them up in the barn. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 323 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus Zhilin and his comrade lived a whole month. 
 Their master was always on the grin. 
 
 " You, Ivan, good — me, Abdul, good.'* 
 
 But he gave them wretched food ; unleavened bread 
 made of millet-flour, cooked in the form of cakes, but 
 often not heated through. 
 
 Kostuilin wrote home again, and was anxiously 
 awaiting the arrival of the money, and lost his spirits. 
 Whole days at a time, he sat in the barn, and counted 
 the days till his money should arrive, or else he slept. 
 
 But Zhilin had no expectation that his letter would 
 reach its destination, and he did not write another. 
 
 "Where," he asked himself, — "where would my 
 mother get the money for my ransom? And besides, 
 she lived for the most part on what I used to send her. 
 If she made out to raise five hundred rubles, she would 
 be in want till the end of her days. If God wills it, I 
 may escape." 
 
 And all the time he kept his eyes open, and made 
 plans to elude his captors. 
 
 He walked about the aul ; he amused himself by 
 whistling ; or else he sat down and fashioned things, 
 either modelling dolls out of clay or plaiting baskets 
 of osiers, for Zhilin was a master at all sorts of handi- 
 work. 
 
 One time he had made a doll with nose, and hands 
 and feet, and dressed in a Tatar shirt, and he set the 
 
324 A PRISONER JN TIIE CAUCASUS. 
 
 doll on the roof. The Tatar women were going for 
 water. l)ina > the master's daughter, caught sight of 
 the doll. She called the Tatar girls. They set down 
 their jugs, and looked and laughed. 
 
 Zhiliu took the doll, and offered it to them. They 
 keep laughing, but don't dare to take it. 
 
 He left the doll, went to the barn, and watched what 
 would take place. 
 
 Diua ran up to the doll, looked around, seized the 
 doll, and fled. 
 
 The next morning at dawn he sees Dina come out 
 on the doorstep with the doll. And she has already 
 dressed it up in red rags, and was rocking it like a 
 little child, and singing a lullaby in her own language. 
 
 An old woman came out, gave her a scolding, 
 snatched the doll away, broke it in pieces, and sent 
 Dina to her work. 
 
 Zhiiin made another doll, a still better one, and gave 
 it to Dina. 
 
 One time Dina brought a little jug, put it down, 
 took a seat, and looked at him. Then she laughed, 
 and pointed to the jug. 
 
 M What is she so gay about? " thinks Zhiiin. 
 
 He took the jug, and began to drink. He supposed 
 that it was water, but it was milk. 
 
 He drank up the milk. 
 
 "Good," says he. How delighted Dina was! 
 " Good, Ivan, good ! " 
 
 And she jumped up, clapped her hands, snatched 
 the jug, and ran away. And from that time she 
 began to bring him secretly fresh milk every day. 
 
 Now, sometimes the Tatars would make cheesecakes 
 out of goat's milk, and dry them on their roofs. Then 
 she used to carry some of these cakes secretly to him. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 325 
 
 And another lime, when her father had killed a sheep, 
 she brought him a piece of mutton in her sleeve. She 
 threw it down, and ran away. 
 
 One time there was a tremendous shower, and for a 
 whole hour the rain poured as from buckets ; and all 
 the brooks grew roily. Wherever there had been a 
 ford, the depth of the water increased to seven feet, 
 and bowlders were rolled along by it. Everywhere 
 torrents were rushing, the mountains were full of the 
 roaring. 
 
 Now, when the shower was over, streams were pour- 
 ing all through the village. Zhilin asked his master 
 for a knife, whittled out a cylinder and some paddles, 
 and made a water-wheel, and fastened manikins at the 
 two ends. 
 
 The little girls brought him some rags, and he 
 dressed up the manikins, one like a man, the other 
 like a woman. He fastened them on, and put the 
 wheel in a brook. The wheel revolved, and the dolls 
 danced. 
 
 The whole village collected : the little boys and the 
 little girls, the women, and even the Tatars, came and 
 clucked with their tongues. " ^17, Urns! a?, Ivan!" 
 
 Abdul had a Russian watch, which had been broken. 
 He took it, and showed it to Zhilin, and clucked with 
 his tongue. Zhilin said, — 
 
 ki Let me have it, I will fix it." 
 
 He took it, opened the penknife, took it apart. 
 Then he put it together again, and gave it back. The 
 watch ran. 
 
 The Tatar was delighted, brought him his old besh- 
 met which was all in rags, and gave it to him. Noth- 
 ing else to be done, — he took it, and used it as a 
 covering at night. 
 
326 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 From that time, Zhilin's fame went abroad, that he 
 was a M master." Even from distaut villages, they 
 came to him. One brought him a gun-lock or a pistol 
 to repair, another a watch. 
 
 His master furnished him with tools, — a pair of 
 pincers and gimlets and a little file. 
 
 One time a Tatar fell ill; they came to Zhilin: 
 u Come cure him ! " 
 
 Zhilin knew nothing of medicine. He went, looked 
 at the sick man, said to himself, " Perhaps he will get 
 well, anyway." He went into the barn, took water and 
 sand, and shook them up together. He whispered 
 a few words to the water in presence of the Tatars, 
 and gave it to the sick man to drink. 
 
 Fortunately for him, the Tatar got well. 
 
 Zhilin had by this time learned something of their 
 language. And some of the Tatars became accus- 
 tomed to him ; when they wanted him, they called him 
 by name, " Ivan, Ivan ; " but others always looked at 
 him as though he was a wild beast. 
 
 The red-bearded Tatar did not like Zhilin ; when he 
 saw him, he scowled and turned away, or else insulted 
 him. 
 
 There was another old man among them ; he did not 
 live in the aul, but came down from the mountain. 
 Zhilin never saw him except when he came to the 
 mosque to prayer. He was of small stature ; on his 
 cap, he wore a white handkerchief as an ornament. 
 His beard and mustaches were trimmed; they were 
 white as wool, and his face was wrinkled and brick- 
 red. His nose was hooked like a hawk's, and his eyes 
 were gray and cruel, and he had no teeth except two 
 tusks. 
 
 He used to come in his turban, leaning on his staff, 
 
A PR J SON KB IN TIIK CAUCASUS. 327 
 
 and glare like a wolf ; whenever he saw Zhilin, he 
 would snort, and turn his back. 
 
 One time Zhilin went to the mountain to see where 
 the old man lived. He descended a narrow path, and 
 sees a little stone-walled garden. On the other side 
 of the wall are cherry-trees, peach-trees, and a little 
 hut with a flat roof. 
 
 He went nearer ; he sees bee-hives made of straw, 
 and bees flying and humming around them. And the 
 old man is on his knees before the hives, hammering 
 something. 
 
 Zhilin raised himself up, so as to get a better view, 
 and his clog made a noise. 
 
 The old man looked up, — squealed; he pulled his 
 pistol from his belt, and fired at Zhilin, who had barely 
 time to hide behind the wall. 
 
 The old man came to make his complaint to Zhilin' s 
 master. Abdul called him in, grinned, and asked him : 
 
 t% Why did you go to the old man's? " 
 
 u I didn't do him any harm. I wanted to see how 
 he lived." 
 
 Abdul explained it to the old man ; but he was 
 angry, hissed, mumbled something, showed his tusks, 
 and threatened Zhilin with his hands. 
 
 Zhilin did not understand it all ; but he made out 
 that the old man wished Abdul to kill the two Rus- 
 sians, and not have them in the aul. 
 
 The old man went off. 
 
 Zhilin began to ask his master, " Who is that old 
 man? " And the master replied, — 
 
 "He is a great man. He used to be our first jiglt; 
 he has killed many Russians. He used to be rich. 
 He had three wives and eight sons. All lived in one 
 village. The Russians came, destroyed his village, and 
 
828 A PRISONER IN TI1E CAUCASUS. 
 
 killed seven of his sons. One son was left, and sur- 
 reudcrcd to the Russians. The old man went and gave 
 himself up to the Russians also. He lived among them 
 three months, found his son, killed him with his own 
 hand, and escaped. Since that time he has stopped 
 fighting. He went to Mecca to pray to God, and that's 
 why he wears a turban. Whoever has been to Mecca 
 is called a hadji, and wears a chalma. But he does 
 not love you Russians. He has bade me kill you, but 
 I don't intend to kill you. I have paid out money for 
 you, and besides, Ivan, I have come to like you. And 
 so far from wishing to kill you, I would rather not let 
 you go from me at all, if I had not given my word." 
 
 He laughed, and began to repeat in Russian, tfc Tvoyd 
 Ivdn, khordsh, moyd, Abdul, khordsh." 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 321) 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thus Zhilia lived a month. In the daytime he 
 walked about the aul or did some handiwork, but when 
 night came, and it grew quiet in the aul, he burrowed 
 in his barn. It was hard work digging because of the 
 stones, and he sometimes had to use his file on them ; 
 and thus he dug a hole under the wall big enough 
 to crawl through. 
 
 "Only," he thought, "I must know the region a 
 little first, so as to escape in the right direction. And 
 the Tatars wouldn't tell me any thing." 
 
 He waited till one time when his master was absent, 
 then he went after dinner behind the aul to a moun- 
 tain. His idea was to reconnoitre the country. 
 
 But when Abdul returned he commanded a small boy 
 to follow Zhilin, and not take his eyes from him. The 
 little fellow tagged after Zhilin, and kept crying, — 
 
 " Don't go there. Father won't allow it. I will 
 call the men if 3'ou go ! " 
 
 Zhilin began to reason with him. " I am not going 
 far," says he, — "only to that hill: I must get some 
 herbs. Come with me ; I can't run away with this 
 clog. To-morrow I will make you a bow and 
 arrows." 
 
 He persuaded the lad, they went together. To look 
 at, the mountain is not far, but it was hard work with 
 the clog ; he went a little distance at a time, pulling 
 himself up by main strength. 
 
330 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 Zhilin sat clown on the summit, and began to survey 
 the ground. 
 
 To the south behind the barn lay a valley through 
 which a herd was grazing, and another aul was in sight 
 at the foot of it. Back of the village was another hill 
 still steeper, and back of that still another. Between 
 the mountains lay a further stretch of forest, and then 
 still other mountains constantly rising higher and 
 higher. And higher than all, stood snow-capped peaks 
 white as sugar, and one snowy peak rose like a dome 
 above them all. 
 
 To the east and west also were mountains. In 
 every direction the smoke of auls was to be seen in the 
 ravines. 
 
 "Well," he said to himself, "this is all their 
 country." 
 
 He began to look in the direction of the Russian 
 possessions. At his very feet was a little river, his 
 village surrounded by gardens. By the river some 
 women, no larger in appearance than little dolls, were 
 standing and washing. Behind the aul was a lower 
 mountain, and beyond it two other mountains covered 
 with forests. And between the two mountains a plain 
 stretched far, far away in the blue distance ; and on the 
 plain lay what seemed like smoke. 
 
 Zhiliu tried to remember in what direction, when he 
 lived at home in the foutress, the sun used to rise, and 
 where it set. He looked. " Just about there," says 
 he, u in that valley, our fortress ought to be. There, 
 between those two mountains, I must make my 
 escape." 
 
 The little sun began to slope toward the west. The 
 snowy mountains changed from white to purple ; the 
 wooded mountains grew dark ; a mist arose from 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 331 
 
 the valley ; and the valley itself, where the Russian for- 
 tress must be, glowed in the sunset as though it were 
 on fire. Zhilin strained his gaze. Something seemed 
 to hang waving in the air, like smoke arising from 
 chimneys. 
 
 And so it seemed to him that it must be from the 
 fortress itself, — the Russian fortress. 
 
 It was already growing late. The voice of the mulla 
 calling to prayer was heard. The herds began to re- 
 turn ; the kine were lowing. The little lad kept 
 repeating, "Let us go!" but Zhilin could not tear 
 himself away. 
 
 They returned home. 
 
 "Well," thinks Zhilin, " now I know the place; 
 I must make my escape." 
 
 He proposed to make his escape that very night. 
 The nights were dark ; it was the wane of the moon. 
 
 Unfortunately the Tatars returned in the evening. 
 Usually they came in driving the cattle with them, and 
 came in hilarious. But this time they had no cattle ; 
 but they brought a Tatar, dead on his saddle. It was 
 Kazi MuhameVs brother. They rode in solemnly, and 
 collected for the burial. 
 
 Zhilin also went out to look. 
 
 They did not put the dead body in a coffin, but 
 wrapped it in linen, and placed it under a plane-tree 
 in the village, where it lay on the sward. 
 
 The mulla came ; the old men gathered together, 
 their caps bound around with handkerchiefs. They 
 took off their shoes, and sat in rows on their heels 
 before the dead. 
 
 In front was the mulla, behind him three old men 
 in turbans, and behind them the rest of the Tatars. 
 The mulla lifted the dead man's head, and said, 
 
332 A PRISONER IN ME CAUCASUS. 
 
 " Allah!" (That means God.) He said this one 
 word. and let the head fall back. All were silent; 
 they sat motionless. 
 
 Again the nnilla lifted the head, saying, " Allah!" 
 and all repeated it after him, — 
 
 " Allah!" 
 
 Then silence again. 
 
 The dead man lay on the sward ; he was motionless, 
 and they sat as though they were dead. Not one 
 made a motion. The only sound was the rustling of 
 the foliage of the plane-tree, stirred by the breeze. 
 
 Then the mulla offered a prayer. All got to their 
 feet ; they took the dead body in their arms, and car- 
 ried it away. 
 
 They brought it to a pit. The pit was not a mere 
 hole, but was hollowed out under the earth like a 
 cellar. 
 
 They took the body under the armpits and by the 
 legs, doubled it up, and let it down gently, shoved it 
 forcibly under the grouud, and laid the arms along 
 the belly. The Noga'i brought a green osier. They 
 laid it in the pit ; then they quickly filled it up with 
 earth, and over the dead man's head they placed a 
 gravestone. They smoothed the earth over, and again 
 sat around the grave in rows. There was a long 
 silence. 
 
 "Allah! Allah! Allah!" 
 
 They sighed and got up. The red-bearded Tatar 
 gave money to the old men, then he got up, struck his 
 forehead three times with a whip, and went home. 
 
 The next morning Zhilin sees the red-haired Tatar 
 leading a mare through the village, and three Tatars 
 following him. They went behind the village. Kazi 
 Muhamet took off his beshmet, rolled up his sleeves, 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 333 
 
 — his hands were powerful, — took out his dagger, 
 and sharpened it on a whetstone. The Tatars held 
 back the mare's head. Kazi Muhamet approached, 
 and cut the throat ; then he turned the animal over, 
 and began to flay it, pulling away the hide with his 
 mighty fists. 
 
 The women and maidens came, and began to wash 
 the intestines and the lights. Then they cut up the 
 mare, and carried the meat to the hut. And the whole 
 village collected at the Kazi Muhamet's to celebrate 
 the dead. 
 
 For three days they feasted on the mare and drank 
 buza. Thus they celebrated the dead. All the Tatars 
 were at home. 
 
 On the fourth day about noon, Zhilin sees that they 
 are collecting for some expedition. Their horses are 
 brought out. They put on their gear, and started 
 off, ten men of them, under the command of the Kazi 
 Muhamet; ouly Abdul staid at home. There was a 
 new moon, but the nights were still dark. 
 
 " Now," thinks Zhilin, " to-day we must escape." 
 And he tells Kostuilin. 
 
 But Kostuilin was afraid. " How can we escape? 
 We don't know the way." 
 
 " I know the way." 
 
 " But we should not get there during the night." 
 
 u Well, if we don't get there we will spend the night 
 in the woods. I have some cakes. What are you 
 going to do? It will be all right if they send you the 
 money, but you see, your friends may not collect so 
 much. And the Tatars are now angry because the 
 Russians have killed one of their men. They say 
 they are thinking of killing us." 
 
 Kostuilin thought and thought. " All right, let us 
 go!" 
 
834 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 V. 
 
 Ziiilin crept down into his hole, and widened it so 
 that Kostuilin also could get through, and then they 
 sat and waited till all should be quiet in the aul. 
 
 As soon as the people were quiet in the aul, Zhilin 
 crept under the wall, and came out on the other side. 
 He whispers to Kostuilin, u Crawl under.'* 
 
 Kostuilin also crept under, but in doing so he hit a 
 stone with his leg, and it made a noise. 
 
 Now, the master had a brindled dog as a watch, — 
 a most ferocious animal ; they called him Ulyashin. 
 
 Zhilin had been in the habit of feeding him. Ulya- 
 shin heard the noise, and began to bark and jump 
 about, and the other dogs joined in. 
 
 Zhilin gave a little whistle, threw him a piece of 
 cake. Ulyashin recognized him, began to wag his tail, 
 and ceased barking. 
 
 Abdul had heard the disturbance, and cried from 
 within the hut : — 
 
 "Hdit! hdit! Ulyashin." 
 
 But Zhilin scratched the dog behind the ears. The 
 dog makes no more sound, rubs against his legs, and 
 wags bis tail. 
 
 They wait behind the corner. 
 
 All became silent again ; the only sound was the 
 bleating of a sheep in the fold, and far below them 
 the water roaring Over the pebbles. 
 
 It is dark, but the sky is studded with stars. Over 
 
A PRISONER IN TIIE CAUCASUS. 335 
 
 the mountain the young moon hung red, with its horns 
 turned upward. 
 
 In the valleys a mist was rising, white as milk. 
 Zhilin started up, and said to his comrade in Tatar, 
 "Well, brother, ai-da!" 
 
 They set out again. 
 
 But as they get under way, they hear the call of the 
 mulla on the minaret : — 
 
 1 ' Allah ! Bis' m Allah ! el Bakhman I ' ' 
 
 "That means, the people will be going to the 
 mosque." 
 
 Again they sat down and hid under the wail. 
 
 They sat there long, waiting until the people should 
 pass. Again it grew still. 
 
 " Now for our fate ! " 
 
 They crossed themselves, and started. 
 
 They went across the dvor, and down the steep 
 bank to the stream, crossed the stream, proceeded 
 along the valley. The mist was thick, and closed in 
 all around them, but above their heads the stars could 
 still be seen. 
 
 Zhilin used the stars to guide him which way to go. 
 It was cool in the mist, it was easy walking, only their 
 boots were troublesome, — they were worn at the heels. 
 Zhilin took his off, threw them away, and walked bare- 
 foot. He sprang from stone to stone, and kept glan- 
 cing at the stars. 
 
 Kostuilin began to grow weary. " Go slower," says 
 he ; " my boots chafe me, my whole foot is raw." 
 
 " Then take them off, it will be easier." 
 
 Kostuilin began to go barefoot, but that was still 
 worse ; he kept scraping his feet on the stones and 
 having to stop. 
 
 Zhilin said to him, " You may cut your feet, but you 
 
836 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 will save j'our life ; but if you are caught they will kill 
 you, which would be worse." 
 
 Kostuiliu said nothing, but crept along, groaning. 
 For a long time they went down the valley. Suddenly 
 they hear dogs barking at the right. Zhilin halted, 
 looked around, climbed up the bank, and felt about 
 with his hands. 
 
 "Ekh!" says he, " we have made a mistake; we 
 have gone too far to the right. Here is one of the 
 enemy's villages. I could see it from the hill. We 
 must go back to the left, up the mountain. There 
 must be a forest there." 
 
 But Kostuilin objected. "Just wait a little while, 
 let us get breath. My feet are all blood." 
 
 " Eh, brother! they will get well. You should walk 
 more lightly. This way." 
 
 And Zhilin turned back toward the left, and up hill 
 toward the forest. 
 
 Kostuilin kept halting and groaning. Zhilin tried 
 to hush him up, and still hastened on. 
 
 They climbed the mountain. And there they found 
 the forest. They entered it ; their clothes were all torn 
 to pieces on the thorns. They found a little path 
 through the woods. They walked along it. 
 
 " Halt!" 
 
 There was the sound of hoofs on the path. They 
 stopped to listen. It sounded like the tramping of a 
 horse : then it also stopped. They set out once more ; 
 again the tramping hoofs. When they stopped, it 
 stopped. 
 
 Zhilin crept ahead, and investigated a light spot on 
 the path. 
 
 Something is standing there. It may be a horse, 
 or it may not, but on it there is something strange, not 
 at all like a man. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 337 
 
 It snorted — plainly ! " What a strange thing ! " 
 
 Zhilin gave a slight whistle. There was a dash of 
 feet from the path into the forest, a crackling in the 
 underbrush, and something rushed along like a hurri- 
 cane, with a crashing of dry boughs. 
 
 Kostuilin almost fell to the ground in fright. But 
 Zhilin laughed, and said, — 
 
 ''That was a stag. Do you hear how it crashes 
 through the woods with its horns? We frightened him, 
 and he frightened us." 
 
 They went on their way. Already the Great Bear 
 was beginning to set ; the dawn was not distant. And 
 they were in doubt whether they should come out right 
 or not. Zhilin was inclined to think that they were on 
 the right track, and that it would be about ten versts 
 farther before they reached the Russian fortress, but 
 there is no certain guide ; you could not tell in the 
 night. 
 
 They came to a little clearing. Kostuilin sat down 
 and said, — 
 
 ' k Do as you please, but I will not go any farther; 
 my legs won't carry me." 
 
 Zhilin tried to persuade him. 
 
 " No," says he, " I won't go, I can't go." 
 
 Zhilin grew angry ; he threatens him, he scolds him. 
 
 " Then I will go on without you. Good- by ! " 
 
 Kostuilin jumped up and followed. They went 
 four versts farther. The fog began to grow thicker 
 in the forest. Nothing could be seen before them ; 
 the stars were barely visible. 
 
 Suddenly they hear the tramping of a horse just in 
 front of them ; they can hear his shoes striking on the 
 stones. 
 
 Zhilin threw himself down on his belly, and tried to 
 listen by laying his ear to the ground. 
 
838 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 " Yes, it is, — it is some one on horseback coming 
 in our direction." 
 
 They slipped off to one side of the road, crouched 
 down in the bushes, and waited. Zhilin crept close 
 to the path, and looked. 
 
 He sees a mounted Tatar riding along, driving a 
 cow. The man is muttering to himself. When the 
 Tatar had ridden by, Zhilin returned to Kostuilin. 
 
 M Well, God has saved us. Up with you ! Come 
 along ! ' ' 
 
 Kostuilin tried to rise, and fell back. 
 
 "I can't; by God, I can't. My strength is all 
 gone." 
 
 The man was as though he were drunk. He was 
 all of a sweat; and as they were surrounded by the 
 cold fog, and his feet were torn, he was quite used up. 
 Zhilin tried to lift him by main force. Then Kostuilin 
 cried, u J*/ it hurt." 
 
 Zhilin was frightened to death. 
 
 l * What are you screaming for? Don't you know 
 that Tatar is near ? He will hear you." But he said 
 to himself, "Now he is really played out, what can 
 I do with him? I can't abandon a comrade. Now," 
 says he, "get up; climb on my back. I will carry 
 you if you can't walk any longer." He took Kostuilin 
 on his shoulders, holding him by the thighs, and went 
 along the path with his burden. "Only," says he, 
 "don't put your hands on my throat, for Christ's 
 sake ! Lean on m} r shoulders." 
 
 It was hard for Zhilin. His feet were also bloody, 
 and he was weary. He stopped, and made it a little 
 easier for himself by setting Kostuilin down, and get- 
 ting him better mounted. Then he went on again. 
 
 Evidently the Tatar had heard them when Kostuilin 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 339 
 
 screamed. Zhilin caught the sound of some one follow- 
 ing them and shouting in his language. Zhilin put into 
 the bushes. The Tatar aimed his gun ; he fired it off, 
 but missed ; began to whine in his native tongue, and 
 galloped up the path. 
 
 "Well," says Zhilin, M we are lost, brother. The 
 dog, — he will be right back with a band of Tatars 
 on our track. . . . If we don't succeed in putting three 
 versts between us, we are lost." And he thinks to him- 
 self, " The devil take it, that I had to bring this clod 
 along with me ! Alone, I should have got there long 
 ago." 
 
 Kostuilin said, " Go alone. Why should you be 
 lost on my account? " 
 
 t* No, I will not go ; it would not do to abandon a 
 comrade." He lifted him again on his shoulder, and 
 started on. Thus he made a verst. It was forest all 
 the way, and no sign of outlet. But the fog was now 
 beginning to lift, and seemed to be floating away in 
 little clouds: not a star could be seen. Zhilin was 
 tired out. 
 
 A little spring gushed out by the road : it was walled 
 in with stones. There he stopped, and dropped Kos- 
 tuilin. 
 
 u Let me rest a little," says he, " and get a drink. 
 We will eat our cakes. It can't be very far now." 
 
 He had just stretched himself out to drink, when the 
 sound of hoofs was heard behind them. Again they 
 hid in the bushes at the right under the crest, and 
 crouched down. 
 
 They heard Tatar voices. The Tatars stopped at 
 the very spot where they had turned in from the road. 
 After discussing a while, they seemed to be setting 
 dosjs on the scent. 
 
340 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 The refugees hear the sound of a crashing through 
 the bushes : a strange dog comes directly to them. He 
 stops and barks. 
 
 The Tatars followed on their track. They are also 
 strangers. 
 
 They seized them, bound them, lifted them on 
 horses, and carried them off. 
 
 After they had ridden three versts, Abdul, with two 
 Tatars, met them. He said something to their new 
 captors. They were transferred to Abdul's horses, 
 and were brought back to the aul. 
 
 Abdul was no longer grinning, and he said not a 
 word to them. 
 
 They reached the village at daybreak ; the prisoners 
 were left in the street. The children gathered around 
 them, tormenting them with stones and whips, and 
 howling. 
 
 The Tatars gathered around them in a circle, and 
 the old man from the mountain was among them. 
 They began to discuss. Zhilin made out that they 
 were deciding on what should be done with them. 
 Some said that they ought to be sent farther into the 
 mountains, but the old man declared that they must be 
 killed. Abdul argued against it. Says he, " I have 
 paid out money for them, I shall get a ransom for 
 them." 
 
 But the old man said, " They won't pay any thing ; 
 it will only be an injury to us. And it is a sin to 
 keep Russians alive. Kill them, and that is the end 
 of it." 
 
 They separated. Abdul came to Zhilin, and reported 
 the decision. 
 
 "If," says he, u the ransom is not sent in two weeks, 
 you will be flogged. And if you try to run away again, 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 341 
 
 I will kill you like a dog. Write your letter, and write 
 it good! " 
 
 Paper was brought them ; they wrote their letters. 
 Clogs were put on their feet again ; they were taken 
 behind the mosque. . . . There was a pit twelve feet ' 
 deep, and they were thrust down into this pit. 
 
 1 Five arshinB, 11.65 feet. 
 
842 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Life was made utterly wretched for them. Their 
 clogs were not taken off even at night, and they were 
 not let out at all. 
 
 Unbaked dough was thrown down to them as though 
 they were dogs, and water was let down in a jug. In 
 the pit it was damp and suffocating. 
 
 Kostuilin became ill, and swelled up, and had rheu- 
 matism all over his body, and he groaned or slept all 
 the time. 
 
 Even Zhilin lost his spirits ; he sees that they are 
 in desperate straits. And he does not know how to 
 get out. 
 
 He had begun to make an excavation, but there was 
 nowhere to hide the earth ; Abdul discovered it, and 
 threatened to kill him. 
 
 He was squatting down one time in the pit, and 
 thinking about life and liberty, and he grew sad. 
 
 Suddenly a cake 1 fell directly into his lap, then 
 another, and some cherries followed. He looked 
 up, and there was Dina. She peered down at him, 
 laughed, and then ran away. And Zhilin began to 
 conjecture, " Couldn't Dina help me? M 
 
 He cleared out a little place in the pit, picked up 
 some clay, and made some dolls. He made men and 
 women, horses and dogs ; he said to himself, " When 
 Dina comes, I will give them to her." 
 
 1 lepyoshka. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 343 
 
 But Dina did not make her appearance on the next 
 day. And Zhilin hears the trampling of horses' 
 hoofs : men came riding up : the Tatars collected at 
 the mosque, arguing, shouting, and talking about the 
 Russians. 
 
 The voice of the old man was heard. Zhilin could 
 not understand very well, but he made out that the 
 Russians were somewhere near, and the Tatars were 
 afraid that they would attack the aul, and they did not 
 know what to do with the prisoners. 
 
 They talked a while, and went away. Suddenly 
 Zhilin heard a rustling at the edge of the pit. 
 
 He sees Dina squatting on her heels, with her knees 
 higher than her head ; she leaned over, her necklace 
 hung down and swung over the pit. And her little 
 eyes twinkled like stars. She took from her sleeve 
 two cheesecakes, and threw them down to him. Zhilin 
 accepted them, and said, " Why did you stay away so 
 long? I have been making you some dolls. Here 
 they are." He began to toss them up to her one at a 
 time. 
 
 But she shook her head, and would not look at them. 
 " I can't take them," said she. She said nothing more 
 for a time, but sat there: then she said, "Ivan, they 
 want to kill you." 
 
 She made a significant motion across her throat. 
 
 44 Who wants to kill me? " 
 
 " Father. The old man has ordered him to. But 
 I am sorry for you." 
 
 And Zhilin said, "Well, then, if you are sorry for 
 me, bring me a long stick." She shook her head, 
 meaning that it was impossible. 
 
 He clasped his hands in supplication to her. " Dina, 
 please ! Bring one to me, Dinushka ! " 
 
344 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 " I can't,*' said she. "They would see me ; they 
 are all at home." And she ran away. 
 
 Afterwards, Zhilin was sitting there in the evening, 
 and wondering what he should do. He kept raising 
 his eyes. He could see the stars, but the moon was 
 not yet up. The mulla uttered his call, then all 
 became silent. 
 
 Zhilin began already to doze, thinking to himself, 
 " The little maid is afraid." 
 
 Suddenly a piece of clay fell on his head ; he 
 glanced up ; a long pole was sliding over the edge of 
 the pit, it slid out, began to descend toward him, it 
 reached the bottom of the pit. Zhilin was delighted. 
 He seized it, pulled it along, — it was a strong pole. 
 He had noticed it before on Abdul's roof. 
 
 He gazed up ; the stars were shining high in the 
 heavens, and Dina's eyes, at the edge of the pit, 
 gleamed in the darkness like a cat's. 
 
 She craned her head over, and whispered, " Ivan, 
 Ivan." And she waved her hands before her face, 
 meaning, "Softly, please." 
 
 " What is it?" said Zhilin. 
 
 " All have gone, there are only two at home." 
 
 And Zhilin said, " Well, Kostuilin, let us go, let us 
 make our last attempt. I will help you." 
 
 Kostuilin, however, would not hear to it. 
 
 44 No," says he, "it is not meant for me to get 
 away from here. How could I go when I haven't even 
 strength to turn over? " 
 
 "All right, then. Good -by. 1 Don't think me 
 unkind." 
 
 He kissed Kostuilin. 
 
 He clasped the pole, told Dina to hold it firmly, and 
 
 1 proshchau 
 
A PRISONER JN THE CAUCASUS. 345 
 
 tried to climb up. Twice he fell back, — his clog so 
 impeded him. Kostuilin boosted him ; he managed to 
 get to the top : Dina pulled on the sleeves of his shirt 
 with all her might, laughing heartily. 
 
 Zhilin pulled up the pole, and said, " Carry it back 
 to its place, Dina, for if they found it they would flog 
 you." 
 
 She dragged off the pole, and Zhilin began to go 
 down the mountain. When he had reached the bottom 
 of the cliff, he took a sharp stone, and tried to break 
 the padlock of his clog. But the lock was strong ; he 
 could not strike it fairly. 
 
 He hears some one hurrying down the hill, with light, 
 skipping steps. He thinks, " That is probably Dina 
 again." 
 
 Dina ran to him, took a stone, and says, " Let me 
 try it." 
 
 She knelt down, and began to work with all her 
 might. But her hands were as delicate as osiers. She 
 had no strength. She threw down the stone, and burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Zhilin again tried to break the lock, and Dina 
 squatted by his side, and leaned against his shoulder. 
 Zhilin glanced up, and saw at the left behind the 
 mountain a red glow like a fire ; it was the moon just 
 rising. 
 
 " Well," he says to himself, " I must cross the val- 
 ley and get into the woods before the moon rises." 
 He stood up, and threw away the stone. No matter 
 for the clog — he must take it with him. 
 
 " Good-by," says he. " Dinushka, I shall always 
 remember you." 
 
 Dina clung to him, reached with her hands for a 
 place to stow away some cakes. He took the cakes. 
 
346 A PR/SONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 44 Thank you," said be: "yon are a thoughtful 
 darling. Who will make you dolls after I am gone? " 
 and he stroked her hair. 
 
 Diua burst into tears, hid her face in her hands, and 
 scrambled up the hillside like a kid. He could hear, 
 in the darkness, the jingling of the coins on her 
 braids. 
 
 Zhilin crossed himself, picked up the lock of his 
 clog so that it might not make a noise, and started on 
 his way, dragging his leg all the time, and keeping 
 his eyes constantly on the glow where the moon was 
 rising. 
 
 He knew the way. He had eight versts to go in a 
 direct course, but he would have to strike into the 
 forest before the moon came entirely up. He crossed 
 the stream, and now the light was increasing behind the 
 mountain. 
 
 He proceeded along the valley : it was growing light. 
 He walks along, constantly glancing around ; but still 
 the moon was not visible. The glow was now chan- 
 ging to white light, and one side of the valley grew 
 brighter and brighter. The shadow crept away from 
 the mountain till it reached its very foot. 
 
 Zhilin still hurried along, all the time keeping to the 
 shadow. 
 
 He hurries as fast as he can, but the moon rises 
 still faster ; and now, at the right, the mountain-tops 
 are illuminated. 
 
 He struck into the forest just as the moon rose above 
 the mountains. It became as light and white as day. 
 On the trees all the leaves were visible. It was warm 
 and bright on. the mountain-side ; every thing seemed 
 as though it were dead. The only sound was the roar- 
 ing of a torrent far below. He walked along in the 
 
A PRISONER IN TI1E CAUCASUS. 347 
 
 forest; he had met no one. Zhilin found a little 
 spot in the forest where it was still darker, and began 
 to rest. 
 
 While he rested he ate one of his cakes. He pro- 
 cured a stone and once more tried to break the padlock, 
 but he only bruised his hands, and failed to break the 
 lock. 
 
 He arose and went on his way. When he had 
 gone a verst his strength gave out, his feet were 
 sore. He had to walk ten steps at a time, and then 
 rest. 
 
 44 There's nothing to be done for it," says he to 
 himself. u I will push on as long as my strength holds 
 out ; for if I sit down, then I shall not get up again. 
 If I do not reach the fortress before it is daylight, 
 then I will lie down in the woods and spend the day, 
 and start on to-morrow night again." 
 
 He walked all night. Once he passed two Tatars 
 on horseback, but he heaixl them at some distance, and 
 hid behind a tree. 
 
 Already the moon was beginning to pale, the dew 
 had fallen, it was near dawn, and Zhilin had not 
 reached the end of the forest. 
 
 44 Well," says he to himself, 44 I will go thirty steps 
 farther, strike into the forest, and sit down." 
 
 He went thirty steps, and sees the end of the forest. 
 He went to the edge ; it was broad daylight. Before 
 him, as on the palm of his hand, were the steppe and the 
 fortress ; and on the left, not far away on the mountain- 
 side, fires were burning, or dying out ; the smoke rose, 
 and men were moving around the watch-fires. 
 
 He looks, and sees the gleaming of fire-arms: 
 Cossacks, soldiers ! 
 
 Zhilin was overjoyed. 
 
848 A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 
 
 He gathered his remaining strength, and walked 
 down the mountain. And he says to himself, "God 
 help me, if a mounted Tatar should get sight of me 
 on this bare field ! I should not escape him, even 
 though I am so near." Even while these thoughts 
 are passing through his mind, he sees at the left, on 
 a hillock not fourteen hundred feet away, three Tatars 
 on the watch. They caught sight of him, — bore 
 down upon him. Then his heart failed within him. 
 Waving his arms, he shouted at the top of his voice, 
 44 Brothers ! help, brothers ! M 
 
 Our men heard him, — mounted Cossacks dashed out 
 toward him. The Cossacks were far off, the Tatars 
 near. And now Zhilin collected his last remaining 
 energies, seized his clog with his hand, ran toward the 
 Cossacks, and, without any consciousness of feeling, 
 crossed himself and cried, u Brothers, brothers, 
 brothers! " 
 
 The Cossacks were fifteen in number. 
 
 The Tatars were dismayed. Before they reached 
 him, they stopped short. And Zhilin reached the 
 Cossacks. 
 
 The Cossacks surrounded him, and questioned him : 
 4 * Who are you ? • ' " What is your name ? ' ' M Where 
 did you come from? " 
 
 But Zhilin was almost beside himself ; he wept, and 
 kept on shouting, " Brothers, brothers ! " 
 
 The soldiers hastened up, and gathered around him ; 
 one brought him bread, another kasha-gruel, another 
 vodka, another threw a cloak around him, still another 
 broke his chains. 
 
 The officers recognized him, they brought him into 
 the fortress. The soldiers were delighted, his comrades 
 pressed into Zhilin' s room. 
 
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. 349 
 
 Zhilin told them what had happened to him, and he 
 ended his tale with the words, — 
 
 4 "That's the way I went home and got married! 
 No, I see that such is not to l)e my fate." 
 
 And he remained in the service in the Caucasus. 
 
 At the end of a month Kostuilin was ransomed for 
 five thousand rubles. 
 
 He was brought home scarcely alive. 
 
COUNT TOLSTOI'S WORKS. 
 
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 Survey of the Field. 
 
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