ff TBI 
 
 fllTOStTV 
 
 % 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 “ She came to her senses, and tried to free herself from my embrace. But I held 
 her more firmly ; my cheek touched hers, which glowed like fire .” — Fage 174. 
 
 
A HERO 
 
 OF OUR OWN TIMES. 
 
 FROM THE RUSSIAN OF LERMONTOF. 
 
 NOW FIRST TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 DAVID BOGUE, 86, FLEET STBEET. 
 
 MDCCCLIV. 
 
C3 
 
 u I ■ ' 
 
 
 \M~ 
 
 i . \ 
 
 
 W i 
 
 HEVRY VIZETELLY, PRINTilR AND ENGRAVER, 
 GOUGH SQUARE, FLEET STREET. 
 
BRIEF NOTICE 
 
 or 
 
 MICHAEL LEEMONTOE. 
 
 The present is a book wbicb few people will peruse 
 without a strong desire to know something of its 
 author. It is, however, far easier to excite this curiosity 
 than to allay it; for a single sent^pce is almost suffi- 
 cient to sum up the few facts that have reached 
 western Europe respecting the career of Michael Ler- 
 montof. We know that he was regarded as one of 
 the most promising disciples of the poet Pouchkin, on 
 ^ the occasion of whose death, in a duel— mourned by all 
 Russia as a national calamity — ^he wrote an enthusiastic 
 : ode, utterly devoid of political allusion, but which the 
 
 jj Czar Nicholas, in his hostility to literature, nevertheless 
 iO resented by forthwith banishing the author of it to the 
 Q Caucasus. 
 
 ~ The Czar, only too happy that death had relieved 
 him from the presence of one poet who had been 
 thrice exiled from the capital, was determined, it 
 
2 
 
 BBIEF NOTICE OF MICHAEL LEEMONTOF. 
 
 would seem, to check any fresh display of the poetic 
 faculty in the bud. To the Caucasus, therefore, Ler- 
 montof was inexorably sent ; and while undergoing 
 the imperial sentence the present work, together 
 with a small volume of poems, was written. In about 
 a couple of years after “ The Hero of our own Times” 
 had issued from the press, and just as the young au- 
 thor was attaining a deserved popularity, the more 
 educated of the Russian people were surprised and 
 grieved by the intelligence that, like his master Pouch - 
 kin, Lermontof had fallen a victim in a deplorable duel. 
 The Czar, although he had, with a pretence of magna- 
 nimity, accorded to the thrice banished Pouchkin a 
 public funeral, had not the smallest meed of sympathy 
 to bestow on his disciple. On hearing of Lermontof’ s 
 death, Nicholas had the brutality to exclaim — “ He has 
 lived like a dog, and has died like one ! ” Such was 
 the imperial estimate of a man against whom no poli- 
 tical accusation was ever made, and whose only crime 
 was the possession of faculties which, among other 
 people, are honoured by the epithet of god-like.” 
 Lermontof has been characterized as one of those 
 natures gifted with energy, at once passionate and con- 
 centrated, of which Byron forms perhaps the most mag- 
 nificent example. A wild, indeed impatient, love of 
 independence appears to have consumed him. Those 
 who knew him best, caution us that his clever and 
 sceptic style of criticism and observation should not 
 
BRIEF NOTICE OF MICHAEL LERMONTOI’. 
 
 3 
 
 be attributed to the misanthropy of a hardened and 
 discouraged mind, but rather to the result of a forced 
 idleness — to the hatred, however, and not the weariness, 
 of the void. It will be readily admitted that he was 
 not one of those factitious and superficial writers who 
 supply the want of genius with praiseworthy inten- 
 tions — with half-real half-dissembled convictions ; but 
 that he was a true and a great poet. No other Rus- 
 sian ever wrote verses so energetic in their simplicity, 
 and with so great a contempt for all vain ornament, as 
 those few poems that remain to us as examples of the 
 genius of Michael Lermontof, 
 
I 
 
AUTHORS PEEFACE. 
 
 The preface of a book is a thing at once important and 
 subordinate; it may serve as an explanation of the 
 work, or as a justification of the author when attacked 
 by critics. But, generally, a reader cares but little for 
 the moral aim of a work, and quite as little for the sen- 
 tence pronounced on it by the reviewers ; and therefore 
 it is, that- a preface rarely finds a reader. ’Tis a pity, 
 particularly in Russia. Our public is still so new, and 
 so simple, that it does not comprehend a fable, unless 
 terminated by an explanatory moral. It cannot see a 
 jest, nor discover the aim of irony ; in a word, it has 
 been badly brought up. It ignores, to this hour, that, 
 in good company, as in a good book, a plain, downright 
 rebuke is not admissible ; that modern civilisation has 
 a weapon more powerful, almost invisible, and of which 
 the blows are more terrible — more certain. Our public 
 somewhat resembles a simple provincial, who, after 
 having listened to the conversation of two envoys from 
 
6 
 
 author’s preface. 
 
 rival powers, should retain the conviction that each of 
 them was disposed to sacrifice the interests of his 
 cabinet to considerations of personal friendship. 
 
 It is thus that, even quite lately, the ideas printed 
 in this book have been taken, to the very letter, by 
 many readers, and even by reviewers. Some have been 
 shocked at our ofiering them for a model such a person- 
 age as Petchorin ; others thought they discovered that 
 the author had presented to the public his own portrait, 
 and that of his friends — a pitiful jest, that has not even 
 the merit of novelty. It seems that everything else 
 renews itself in Russia, except these wretched puerilities. 
 The most agreeably- told tale will with difficulty escape 
 attacks that soon assume a personal character. 
 
 The ‘‘ Hero of our Own Times,” courteous reader, is, 
 indeed, a portrait, but not an individual one ; it per- 
 sonifies the vices of our whole generation. You will 
 object, perhaps, that no man could attain to such a 
 degree of perversity ; but I ask why, if you admit, as 
 probabilities, the crimes daily committed by exalted 
 villany, you refuse to believe in the reality of a Pet- 
 chorin ? You have read with interest far more monstrous 
 conceptions. Why cannot this character, were it only 
 as the creature of imagination, find favour in your eyes ? 
 Is it not because it is sketched with more regard for 
 truth than you are willing to allow ? 
 
 You will say, that mankind can profit nothing by such 
 sketches. Permit me to be of a difierent way of think- 
 
author’s preface. 
 
 7 
 
 ing. The abuse of sweetmeats ruins the stomach ; it 
 requires bitter remedies, and food less insipid. Let it 
 not be thought, however, that the writer of these pages 
 has the presumption to set himself up as a reformer of 
 the vices of society. Heaven guard him from such 
 folly ! He simply meant to portray, in an amusing 
 manner, a character of our own time, according as it 
 presented itself to his own observation ; and one that, 
 for his misfortune and yours, is more common than 
 people will admit. It was enough to denounce the evil : 
 as for the remedy, Heaven alone knows what that 
 may be ! 
 

 
CONTENTS, 
 
 j>agk 
 
 BELA 9 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH 67 
 
 TAMAN , , 84 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY ,104 
 
 THE FATALIST . 
 
 217 
 
BELA. 
 
 I WAS coming from Tillis ; my travelling carriage was 
 lightly laden, for a single portmanteau, half filled with 
 notes on Georgia, /ormed my sole baggage. Fortunately 
 for the reader, the greater part of these notes are lost ; 
 and yet more fortunately for myself, the portmanteau 
 with the rest of its contents accompanied me safely 
 home. 
 
 When I entered the valley of Koitaour, the sun was 
 just disappearing behind the snowy crests of the moun- 
 tain ridges. The Ossete who drove me, used every 
 endeavour to hurry on his steeds, in order to arrive 
 at Mount Koitaour before nightfall, singing all the 
 while up to, nay beyond, the very top of his voice. 
 
 The aspect of this valley is truly magnificent. On 
 all sides are inaccessible mountains, red-tinted rocks, 
 covered with green ivy, and crowned with clusters of 
 plane-trees ; here and there upon its slopes, is to be 
 traced the yellow line of a torrent bed, and above all, at 
 an elevation that fatigues the sight, a golden fringe of 
 I B 
 
10 
 
 BELA. 
 
 snow ; whilst in the depth of the valley, the Aragva, after 
 having received the waters of some nameless torrent, 
 which rushed wildly forth from a dark cavern, unfolds 
 itself like a silver ribband, or a glittering scaled serpent. 
 We pulled up at the foot of the mountain. A score of 
 Georgians and mountaineers were grouped near the 
 station ; and, as is usual with these people, their con- 
 versation assumed all the energy of a lively dispute. 
 Not far off a caravan of camels had halted for the 
 night. 
 
 I was obliged to have oxen yoked to my carriage, 
 for this accursed mountain slope is a league and a half 
 in length, and the icy frost of autumn added to the 
 difficulty of the ascent. 
 
 As there was no help for it, I hired six oxen, and 
 some Ossetes to drive them. One of these carried my 
 portmanteau on his shoulder, w^hile the others urged 
 the beasts forward ; their efforts in this respect, how^- 
 ever, were limited to a free use of their voices. 
 
 Another carriage followed close behind us, and 
 though it was drawn by only four oxen, and was filled 
 with a great pile of baggage, yet it rattled along with 
 the greatest ease. This appeared to me strange. The 
 owmer of this equipage followed on foot, smoking a 
 silver-mounted pipe, such as are manufactured in Ka- 
 bardia ; he wore the frock coat of an officer, but without 
 epaulettes, and a fur cap after the Circassian fashion. 
 He might be about fifty. His bronzed visage announced 
 an acquaintance of long standing with the sun of the 
 Caucasus ; and his moustachios, in their premature 
 
BELA. 
 
 11 
 
 whiteness, contrasted strangely with an exterior, ex- 
 pressive at once of vigour and resolution. I approached 
 and saluted him. Without uttering a syllable, he re- 
 turned my salutation, sending forth from his mouth at 
 the same time a copious puff of smoke. 
 
 ‘‘ It appears,” said I, that we are both following 
 the same road.” 
 
 Still without answering, he bowed his acquies- 
 cence. 
 
 “ I presume you’re going to Stavropol ?” 
 
 “ Precisely so. With a government convoy.” 
 
 ‘‘ Would you be kind enough to explain to me how 
 it happens, that your carriage, heavily laden as it is, 
 gets on in the best possible manner with four oxen ; 
 while mine, which is nearly empty, is moved with the 
 greatest difficulty by six, without reckoning the Ossetes, 
 whose help, I suppose, ought to be considered as some- 
 thing.” 
 
 He smiled a knowing smile, and surveyed me 
 attentively. 
 
 “You have not been long in the Caucasus r” 
 
 “ About a year,” I answered. 
 
 He smiled a second time. 
 
 “ But I asked you .” 
 
 “ Why, you see, these Asiatics are sly rascals ; you 
 think, perhaps, that they are of use because they 
 halloo? The devil himself knows what it is they 
 shout ; but it is a fact that the beasts guess at their 
 meaning. Yoke twenty of them to your carriage, and 
 in despite of this species of encouragement, they’ll 
 
 B 2 
 
12 
 
 BELA. 
 
 scarcely stir. A rascally set ! There’s nothing to be 
 got out of them. They only know how to tax travel- 
 lers. It must be allowed they have been spoiled. 
 You’ll see they’ll ask you for something to drink. 
 They’ll not find me requiring their help. I know them 
 too well.” 
 
 “ Have you served long in the Caucasus ?” I asked. 
 
 “ Ay, ever since the time of Alexander Petrovitch, 
 (Yermolof),” replied the officer, with the proud air of 
 a veteran. “ When he came to take the command of 
 the line, I was a sub -lieutenant, and I have advanced 
 two steps in the wars with the mountaineers.” 
 
 “ And now ?” 
 
 Now, I am in active service in the third battalion 
 of the line. And you, sir, may I ask in my turn ?” 
 
 I replied to his inquiry, and our conversation ter 
 minated. We continued to walk on side by side i 
 silence. 
 
 Towards the summit of the mountain we found 
 some snow. The sun had set, and night succeeded 
 to day, as it ever does in the East, without inter- 
 vening gradation. Still the light reflected from the 
 snow, enabled us easily to distinguish the road, which 
 continued up hill, but with a less steep ascent. 
 
 After having had my portmanteau placed in my car- 
 riage, and exchanged my oxen for horses, I turned to 
 take a last look at the valley, but it was entirely hidden 
 by the mist which issued like waves from the sides of 
 the mountain. At this height no sound reached us. 
 The Ossetes asked me for drink money, but the Captain 
 
BELA, 
 
 13 
 
 apostrophised them in such a style, that they vanished 
 in the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 “ There’s a delightful brood,” said he ; they can- 
 not ask for bread in Euss, yet they will say intelligibly 
 enough : ‘ Give us something to drink, my officer.’ I 
 like the Tartars even better than these fellows ; at least, 
 they are not such drunkards.” 
 
 We were now only a quarter of a league from the 
 station. Around us all was calm ; so calm, that one 
 could have tracked a fly by the buzzing of its wings. 
 
 On our left, yawned a dark abyss ; above us, were 
 the dark blue mountain summits, whose peaks stood out 
 against the horizon, from which the last pale glimmer- 
 ing of twilight was fading. In the slate-coloured azure 
 of the heavens, the stars were beginning to twinkle, 
 and one was tempted to believe them far higher above 
 our heads, than they appear to be in our northern regions. 
 On both sides of the road, were huge, projecting masses 
 of black, naked rock ; and, here and there, some clusters 
 of small trees pierced through the snow ; but not even 
 a withered leaf stirred, and I listened, with delight, in 
 the midst of this deep sleep of nature, to the breathing 
 of our wearied horses, and the tinkling of the little 
 post-bell. 
 
 “ To-morrow will be a splendid day,” I remarked 
 to the Captain. 
 
 Without answering me, he pointed with his finger 
 to a high mountain peak, which rose right in front of us. 
 
 “Well?” said I. 
 
 “ It is the Gout Gora — see how it smokes !” 
 
14 
 
 BELA. 
 
 And, in fact, the Gout Gora did really smoke. Up 
 its sides, fleecy masses of vapour were creeping ; while, 
 at its summit, one remarked a black cloud, looking like 
 a stain upon the sky. 
 
 Already, w'e could perceive the station, and the 
 roofs of the neighbouring cottages; already, our eyes 
 welcomed the hospitable fires — when, all at once, a 
 damp and freezing wind sprung up ; the rocky chasm 
 sent forth its dreary howlings, in reply to the voice of 
 the storm ; and a fine, drizzling rain set in. I had only 
 time to throw my cloak over me, before the snow fell 
 fast and thick. I looked deferentially towards the 
 Captain. 
 
 “We must pass the night here,’’ he said, evidently 
 somewhat vexed ; “ for, in this sort of weather, one 
 must not think of venturing into the mountains.” 
 
 There was no hope of a night’s lodging at the post- 
 house itself ; we were conducted, therefore, to a smoky 
 hut. I invited my travelling companion to drink tea, 
 for I had brought with me a metal teapot — my only 
 consolation during my excursions in the Caucasus. 
 
 The hut, in which we sought shelter, was built 
 against a rock ; three muddy, slippery steps led up to 
 its door. As I groped my way in, I* came bolt up 
 against a cow — the stable, it seems, served for the 
 antechamber. I knew not which way to turn — what 
 with the bleating of sheep, on the one side, and the 
 barking of a dog, on the other. At length, a faint ray 
 of light allowed me to distinguish an opening that 
 might pass for a door. 
 
BELA. 
 
 15 
 
 The roof of the hut was supported by two smoky 
 rafters. The hut itself was of tolerable size, and full 
 of people ; an aguish, miserable sort of a fire was burn- 
 ing in the middle of the floor, and the smoke, that the 
 wind drove back through the opening of the roof, was 
 so thick, that I was, for some time, unable to dis- 
 tinguish any of the objects around. Near the hearth 
 squatted two old crones, a meagre Georgian, and a heap 
 of ragged children. There was nothing to be done, but 
 to submit to circumstances ; so we lighted our pipes, 
 after having established ourselves, as best we could, in 
 the neighbourhood of the fire ; and our kettle soon 
 began to send forth a most delectable murmur. 
 
 Poor creatures!” said I to the Captain, pointing 
 to our tattered hosts, who remained staring at us, in 
 stupid amazement. 
 
 “ Miserable race ! ” he replied ; ‘‘ iPs beyond belief. 
 They have nothing in their favour — they are capable 
 of nothing. The Kabardians, the Tchetchenzes, are 
 little else but savages and thieves, I grant you, but, 
 still, they are daring rascals ; while these vermin, your 
 Ossetes, donT even know the value of arms. You’ll 
 not find one of them with a decent poignard — they are 
 a wretched race 1 ” 
 
 “ Did you live any time among the Tchetchenzes 
 
 “ I was ten years in a fort, with my company, near 
 Kamennoi-Brod — do you know it?” 
 
 “ I have heard of it.” 
 
 “ Those murderous rascals did not spare us. Now, 
 thank Heaven ! they are rather quieter ; it is not so 
 
16 
 
 BELA. 
 
 very long ago, since one could not venture into tlie 
 valley, without meeting one of those hairy devils in 
 ambush. There was no time for a yawn — a slip-knot 
 was round one’s neck, or a ball thrQugh one’s head. 
 What scoundrels ! ” 
 
 My curiosity urged me on. “You have not gone 
 through all this without having met with some adven- 
 tures in your time?” I remarked. 
 
 “No, indeed! Adventures — ah! I’ve had my 
 share of them.” ' 
 
 Here the Captain twisted his left moustachio, and, 
 moving his head, somewhat after the manner of a pen- 
 dulum, appeared lost in meditation. I had a strong 
 desire to extract something in the shape of an anecdote 
 out of him, which was natural enough, with a person 
 who wanders, far and wide, for the sake of picking up 
 stray incidents for the benefit of the public. Mean- 
 while, tea was ready. I drew from my portmanteau, 
 two travelling cups, which I filled with the grateful 
 beverage, and placed one before the Captain. He 
 raised it to his lips, sipped a few drops of the steaming 
 fiuid, and repeated, as if speaking to himself, — “ Yes — 
 I have had my share of adventures !” 
 
 This exclamation acted as a stimulus to my hopes. 
 I knew the fondness of the veterans of the Caucasus for 
 spinning a yarn ; they so rarely have an opportunity 
 of indulging in that way. You will meet with men 
 who have been, for five years, at the head of their com- 
 pany, in some wretched out-of-the-way place ; and who, 
 during those five years, have not once been greeted 
 
BELA. 
 
 17 
 
 with the familiar every-day phrase — ‘‘ How do you do, 
 Captain?’’ for this simple reason: that the junior 
 officer on duty says, and ought to say, — “ I have the 
 honour to wdsh you good morning.” 
 
 There must be, however, ample matter for conversa- 
 tion, in the midst of this wild and singular people. 
 There, each day has its dangers, and everything bears 
 the stamp of originality. It is to be regretted, that we 
 Russians do not write more. 
 
 “ If you would like any rum,” I said, to my guest, “ I 
 have some white rum from Tiffis — the night is very cold.” 
 “ Thanks ; but I never touch it.” 
 
 ‘‘Why so?” 
 
 “ Because of a vow I have made. One day, you 
 must know — I was only a sub-lieutenant at the time — 
 we had been drinking like Poles. In the night the 
 alarm was given. We ran to arms in a state that you 
 can pretty well imagine. Yermolof knew it, and he 
 bullied us in style. Heaven and earth ! what a rage 
 he was in ! We were very near having our ac- 
 counts settled by a court-martial. You see, that in a 
 country where one ought always to be on one’s guard, 
 if one begins to drink, one’s done for.” 
 
 I began to despair of my story. 
 
 “ Let me tell you, when the Circassians get at their 
 houza^ whether it be at a wedding or at a funeral, they 
 are not long before they draw their swords. Once, I 
 had a narow escape, and with a Prince with whom we 
 were at peace, too !” 
 
 “ How was that? ” 
 
18 
 
 BELA. 
 
 “ Why, in this way 
 
 Here the Captain interrupted himself to fill his 
 pipe; which done, he continued in these words : — 
 
 I must tell you that I was with my men in a fort, 
 on the other side of the Terek ; this was nearly five 
 years ago. One day, it was in the autumn, there 
 comes a convoy of provisions, escorted by a young man 
 of about five- and- twenty. He waited on me in full 
 uniform, and told me he had orders to remain in the 
 fort, under my eye. 
 
 His waist was so slender, his complexion so 
 clear, his uniform so irreproachably fresh, that it was 
 easy to divine that he came from the capital. A few 
 questions on my part, and affirmative answers on his, 
 proved to me that my conjectures were correct. 
 
 “ ‘ Sir,’ said I, ‘ I am delighted to see you among 
 us. The place is not the most agreeable in the world, 
 but I will do all I can to make you as comfortable as 
 possible ; and in the first place, if you think proper, 
 we will lay aside all ceremony. Call me, there- 
 fore, simply Maximus Maximitch. This full uniform, 
 too, is unnecessary; the foraging cap will be quite 
 sufficient.’ 
 
 His quarters were allotted to him, and he estab- 
 lished himself in the fort.” 
 
 “ His name ? I pray ! ” 
 
 Gregory Alexander owitcii Petchorin ; a charming 
 youth, although rather eccentric. He would hunt, for 
 example, in the cold and rain for days together ; while 
 every one else was half frozen, and their teeth chattering 
 
BELA. 
 
 19 
 
 with the cold, he hardly seemed to think about it. At 
 other times he would keep his room, dreading lest a 
 breath of air should give him cold, and if his window 
 shutter chanced to flap to, he would start and turn 
 pale ; and yet I have seen him with my own eyes 
 attack a wild boar. Sometimes, he remained for hours 
 together without opening his lips ; but then to make up 
 for it, when he was in the humour, he became inex- 
 haustible, and you were ready to split your sides with 
 laughter, whether you would or no ; in short, he was 
 original to a degree that cannot be matched. He must 
 be rich, for he possessed heaps of most expensive 
 jewels and gew-gaws.’’ 
 
 “ Did he remain long with you 
 
 “ About a year ; it is a time that I shall never forget. 
 Such scenes ! It seems to me that there are people 
 predestined before their birth to adventures that could 
 only happen to themselves.’’ 
 
 This word adventure probably gave to my features 
 the expression of a mark of interrogation ; and the 
 Captain, as if by an efibrt of politeness, continued in the 
 following manner : — 
 
 “ Six versts from the fort, lived a Prince with 
 whom we were at peace. His son, a boy of fifteen, 
 often came to visit us under one pretext or another. It 
 must be confessed that we treated him — Petchorin 
 and myself — like a spoiled child. He was a very demon 
 of cleverness and audacity. He would throw his cap 
 on the ground, and pick it up while his horse was in 
 full gallop ; and you should have seen him handle a 
 
20 
 
 BELA. 
 
 gun! He had, however, a grand fault — an immoderate 
 love of money. Petchorin once jokingly promised him 
 a ducat, if he stole the finest goat out of his father’s 
 flock ; the next night the rogue brought it to us tied 
 by the horns. At the least sarcasm, although in jest, 
 the whites of his eyes would redden, and his hand seek 
 his dagger. ‘ Beware, Azamat,’ I would say to him, 
 ‘ take heed, this will turn out badly.’ 
 
 “ One day, the old Prince came to invite us to the 
 wedding of his eldest daughter. Our regard for his 
 hospitality, and the alliance that existed between us, 
 would not allow us to refuse. We arrived at the 
 Prince’s dwelling at the hour agreed upon. As we 
 crossed the village, the dogs barked enough to stun 
 one, and the women ran to hide themselves. The open 
 court of the Prince’s house was already crowded ; for 
 you must know that when the Asiatics celebrate a 
 marriage, they invite indiscriminately all whom they 
 happen to meet. 
 
 ‘‘ They received us with every imaginable honour, 
 and led us at once into the hall. 
 
 “ Before entering, Petchorin had remarked to me, 
 that the Circassian women were not worthy of their 
 reputation for beauty. 
 
 Wait awhile,’ I answered. I had my reasons for 
 this. While defending the fair sex, however, I took 
 care to note where they led our horses to ; with these 
 people two precautions are better than one.” 
 
 And what are their marriage ceremonies like r ” 
 I inquired. 
 
BELA. 
 
 21 
 
 “Nothing out of the way/’ replied the Captain. 
 “ First of all the Mullah reads them a passage from the 
 Koran ; then presents are made to the young couple, 
 and to the parents. They eat, they drink houza^ they 
 dance a species of jig ; and some ragged clown, as dirty 
 as he well can be, mounted on a lame hack, goes through 
 all sorts of contortions to amuse the honourable com- 
 pany ; lastly, they have a ball after their fashion. An 
 old musician plays upon a three-stringed instrument, of 
 which the name has escaped me, but which is something 
 like our halaleika. The young men and girls place 
 themselves in rows, opposite to each other, and sing, 
 and clap their hands. A young man and a young 
 woman leave the ranks and address one another alter- 
 nately in verses, — anything that comes into their 
 heads, — which they chant in a drawling sort of tone, 
 and the rest repeat it as a chorus. 
 
 “ Petchorin and myself were seated in the place of 
 honour. Suddenly, the youngest daughter of the Prince 
 advanced towards Petchorin — she might be about 
 fifteen — and began a complimentary sort of speech or 
 chant.” 
 
 “ Do you not remember,” I asked, “the words she 
 addressed to him ? ” 
 
 “ They were something to this effect : — ^ Our young 
 dancers have graceful figures, their caftans are em- 
 broidered with silver ; but the figure of the young 
 Russian officer is yet more graceful, and his lace is gold. 
 He towers above them like a young poplar, but we 
 shall not behold him grow and flourish in our gardens.’ 
 
22 
 
 BELA. 
 
 Petcliorin rose, bowed to the young Princess, placed 
 one hand on his forehead, and the other on his heart, 
 and begged me to translate his answer to her. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Well,’ I said in a low voice to -Petchorin, when 
 she was out of hearing, ‘ what do you think of her ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ She is charming ! bewitching ! and her name ? ’ 
 “‘Bela.’ 
 
 ‘‘ She was indeed a lovely girl : tall, slender, with 
 dark eyes like those of a gazelle, that seemed to look 
 into your very soul. Petchorin never lost sight of her, 
 and she on her part stole more than one sidelong glance 
 at him. He was not the only one present who thought 
 her beautiful. From a remote corner of the hall, two 
 eyes, ardent and motionless, were gazing intently, pas- 
 sionately upon Bela. I soon recognized Kazbitch. 
 This Kazbitch, I must tell you, was on neither decidedly 
 hostile nor decidedly pacific terms with the Russians. 
 Although often suspected, he had never been detected 
 in any hostile enterprise. Now and then he used to 
 bring sheep to the fort, and sell them to us at a rea- 
 sonable price ; but whatever he asked, had to be given 
 to him without bargaining. He would have allowed 
 himself to be cut to pieces rather than bate a copeck. 
 It was said of him, that he took no unwilling part in 
 certain expeditions beyond the Kouban ; and in truth, 
 judging by his appearance, he would have made a 
 splendid brigand: he was short, muscular, broad- 
 shouldered, and active as a very devil. 
 
 “ His hesclimeet was always in rags, but his arms were 
 bright with silver, and his horse had not its rival in all 
 
BELA. 
 
 23 
 
 Kabardia. It was in fact the perfection of a steed. 
 More than one envied it, and more than once an attempt 
 had been made to rob him of it. I can fancy I see it 
 now before me, black as jet, with its pasterns like 
 spindles ; and as for its eyes ! Bela herself could scarcely 
 boast of finer ; then, too, its strength ! it would carry 
 you twelve leagues without stopping ; and it had 
 been so well broken that it would run at the sound of 
 its master’s voice just like a dog, while it was as obedient 
 as a child. Will you believe it, there was no necessity 
 to tie him up ? in short, he was the very beau-ideal of a 
 brigand’s horse. That evening Kazbitch appeared more 
 gloomy than usual, and I remarked that he wore his 
 coat of mail under his heschmeet, ‘ It’s not for nothing,’ 
 I said to myself, ‘ that Kazbitch has put on his shirt of 
 iron ; he has something in his head.’ 
 
 “ The hall was oppressively hot ; I went out to 
 breathe the air. The mountains were already shrouded 
 in darkness, and clouds of mist w’ere issuing from their 
 clefts. It occurred to me to give a look at our horses, 
 and satisfy myself that they wanted for nothing. Mine 
 was a magnificent one, and more than one Kabardian, 
 while examining it with a wistful eye, had exclaimed, 
 ‘ Jahchi ildie / tchetz iakchi ! ’ 
 
 “ I stole along the palisade, and suddenly heard the 
 sound of voices. That of Azamat at once struck me ; 
 his companion spoke only at intervals, and in a lower 
 tone. 
 
 “ ‘ What can they have to say to each other ? ’ I 
 said to myself, and drew nearer to the enclosure, that I 
 
24 
 
 EELA. 
 
 might not lose a Avord of their conversation. Some- 
 times the songs and the din of voices within doors 
 drowned it, and prevented me from making out what 
 they said. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ You have got a superb horse, and if I were my own 
 master, and had a herd of three hundred mares, I would 
 give you half of them for your steed, Kazbitch.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Ah ! its Kazbitch,’ said I, and I remembered 
 the coat of mail. 
 
 “ ‘ Ay/ replied Kazbitch, after a silence of some 
 moments ; ‘ you would go far to find its equal. One 
 day, it was beyond the Terek, I had set out with 
 a band of companions to hunt down some Russian 
 horses ; but we were out of luck, and had dispersed, 
 some of us going one way, some another. I had 
 four Cossacks at my heels. I heard already behind 
 me the yells of the villains; before me lay a thick 
 copse. I crouched down on the saddle, recom- 
 mended myself to Allah, and for, the first time I in- 
 sulted my horse by letting him feel the spur. His 
 flight among the branches was like that of a bird; 
 the thorns tore and slashed my garments ; the dead 
 boughs slapped me in the face ; my horse cleared 
 every obstacle, and breasted his way through the 
 thickest underwood. It would perhaps have been 
 wiser to have allowed him to take his own course, and 
 to have hidden myself in the forest, but I could not 
 make up my mind to -part from him. At length the 
 Prophet rewarded me. More than one ball had 
 whizzed close to my ears. The Cossacks were gaining 
 
BELA. 
 
 25 
 
 on me rapidly ; a deep ravine barred my onward pro- 
 gress. My horse, after an instant’s pause, leapt it; 
 the opposite bank crumbled beneath the pressure of 
 his hind feet, and he remained suspended by his fore 
 legs. I let go the reins, and jumped into the chasm. 
 My horse was saved. He made one spring, and re- 
 gained his footing. The Cossacks had seen all, but 
 did not care to descend into the ravine to look for me. 
 Doubtless, they thought I was killed on the spot ; 
 and I heard them start off in pursuit of my horse. The 
 blood rushed back to my heart. I crept along the 
 ravine, hidden amid the thick grass, and looked about. 
 The wood ended there. I saw some Cossacks de- 
 bouching across the plain, and my horse bounding 
 before them. The whole pack were yelling frightfully. 
 One of them was twice on the point of throwing his 
 lasso over my horse’s neck. I trembled, my eyes 
 closed, and I prayed fervently. After some minutes, I 
 looked again, and saw my noble steed, with his tail 
 spread, flying over the plain, free as the winds 
 of heaven ; while the Cossacks, out-distanced, were 
 toiling along the steppes on their jaded beasts. By 
 Allah ! this is truth, nothing but the truth ! I re- 
 mained sculking in the ravine till night-fall, when, all 
 at once, I heard amid the darkness the gallop of a 
 horse ; it neighed and pawed the ground : I recognised 
 my faithful steed ! From that time we have never been 
 separated.’ As he finished this recital, the Tartar 
 tenderly patted his horse’s neck, bestowing on it at 
 the same time the most endearing epithets. 
 
 c 
 
26 
 
 BELA. 
 
 “ ^ If I had a herd of a thousand mares,’ said Azamat 
 with a sighj ‘ I would give the whole to you for this 
 noble animal.’ 
 
 “ ‘ And I would refuse the exchange,’ answered 
 Kazbitch, coldly. 
 
 “ ‘ Hear me, Kazbitch : you are good as brave ; you 
 know that my father, for fear of the Russians, forbids 
 my making any excursions in the mountains ; give me 
 up your horse, and I will do anything for you, every- 
 thing that you ask of me. Sh?Jl I rob my father of his 
 best carbine, his finest scimitar ? Speak but the word — 
 the blade was forged in Kurdistan. If you but lay 
 your hand against its edge, it seems as though the 
 steel would cut of itself. And as for his coat-of-mail, 
 it is like your own, without price.’ 
 
 “ Kazbitch remained silent. 
 
 “ ‘ The first time,’ continued Azamat, ‘ that I saw 
 your horse prancing and capering under you, its nos- 
 trils dilating, and the sparks fiying from the stones 
 beneath its hoofs, I felt within me a something — I know 
 not what. Everything else has now become valueless 
 to me. I look with contempt on the finest steeds that 
 my fiither possesses, and feel ashamed to mount them. 
 I am completely overcome with grief; whole days 
 together, I seat myself on the slopes of the mountains, 
 and ahvays before my mind’s eye is your beautiful horse, 
 with its graceful paces, its polished back, straight as an 
 arrow. To me it appears as though its intelligent eye 
 sought mine, for all the world as if it had a something 
 to tell me. If you refuse to let me have that horse, 
 Kazbitch, I shall die ! ’ 
 
BELA. 
 
 27 
 
 “ And the voice of the boy faltered with emotion ; 
 he sobbed aloud. I must tell you that Azamat had a 
 will of iron, and that from his childhood no one had 
 ever seen him shed a tear. 
 
 “ A scornful laugh was Kazbitch’s only answer. 
 
 “ ‘ Listen ! ’ said Azamat in a resolute tone, ‘ you 
 may see that I am prepared for anything. If you con- 
 sent, I will give you up my sister. Ah ! how gracefully 
 she dances, how beautifully she sings ; the stuffs which 
 she embroiders in gold, are wonderful to look at. She 
 would eclipse the fairest creature in the harem of the 
 Turkish Padishah. Do you consent ? Speak, Kazbitch ! 
 You shall wait for me in the valley to-morrow, there, 
 near the spring. I wiU take her that way to the neigh- 
 bouring village. Speak but the word, and she is yours. 
 What, you hesitate.^ Is Bela then not worth thy 
 horse ? ’ 
 
 “ For a long, long time Kazbitch remained silent ; at 
 length I heard him hum this old song : 
 
 ‘ Our maidens are our mountains’ choicest flov/ers ; 
 
 Like summer lightning flash their bright black eyes ! 
 
 Happy the youth who with them spends his hours ; 
 
 Happier still who from their beauty flies ! 
 
 V/omen and gold are, after all, the same : 
 
 Women with gold are bought — But gold ne’er buys 
 
 A courser true ! He moves a living flame, 
 
 And conquers ; or, to save his rider, dies ! ’ 
 
 In vain Azamat implored, wept, swore ; at length 
 Kazbitch, out of patience, said abruptly : 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Leave off, young madman, that you are ; how can 
 you presume to think of mounting my horse ; before he 
 
 c 2 
 
28 
 
 EELA. 
 
 had taken three steps, he would throw you out of the 
 stirrups, and break your neck upon some rock.’ 
 
 “ ‘ I,’ exclaimed the boy, wild with rage, and his 
 poignard resounded against the cuirass of his adversary. 
 A powerful arm threw him off, and he fell against the 
 palisade, which echoed back the shock. 
 
 “ ‘ This is turning out badly,’ said I to myself. I 
 ran to the stable to unloose our horses, and led them 
 towards the back-gate. 
 
 ‘‘ Two minutes later, and the whole house was in an 
 uproar. This is what had happened: — Azamat had 
 re-entered precipitately with his clothes torn, saying, 
 that Kazbitch had tried to murder him. Each one 
 seized his gun, and the sport commenced. On all sides 
 were yells, blows, and firing of arms. Our friend Kaz- 
 bitch was already in the saddle, moving about from 
 group to group among the crowd, like one possessed, 
 and brandishing his scimitar. 
 
 “ ‘ Gregory Alexan dr o witch,’ said I to my friend, 
 taking him by the arm, ‘ its bad to get drunk among 
 strangers — come along ; believe me, it’s the best thing 
 you can do.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Pshaw, let us see how it will all end/ 
 
 ‘ It can only end badly. These Asiatics never do 
 otherwise. They have fuddled themselves with lousa, 
 and now they fall to fighting.’ 
 
 We mounted our steeds, and galloped posthaste to 
 the fort.” 
 
 “ And Kazbitch,” I inquired of the Captain, what 
 became of him r ” 
 
BELA. 
 
 29 
 
 “Heaven only knows! those rascals have great 
 tenacity of life — I have seen them in action ; a man 
 riddled like a sieve with bayonet wounds, will fight 
 with his lance as with a two-handed sword. Perhaps 
 he was wounded, but at all events he decamped.’’ 
 
 After a pause the Captain resumed, at the same 
 time stamping his foot upon the ground. 
 
 “ There is one thing that I will never forgive myself 
 for having done. On our return to the fort, the devil 
 prompted me to tell Petchorin all that I had heard. He 
 laughed, but at the same moment he drew up his plan.” 
 “ What plan ? — pray go on.” 
 
 “ Since I have begun, I may as well tell you all : 
 Some days after, Azamat came to the fort as usual, and 
 went to see Petchorin, who always gave him some 
 dainty or other. I remember perfectly, that the con- 
 versation turned upon horses. Petchorin began to 
 praise that of Kazbitch. ‘ What lightness,’ said he, 
 ‘ what beauty of form ! it is like an antelope — nothing 
 can be more perfect.’ 
 
 ‘ “ The eyes of the young Tartar sparkled ; Petchorin 
 did not seem to notice it. I tried to change the con- 
 versation, but he always returned to Kazbitch’ s horse. 
 This invariably happened each time that Azamat came. 
 At the end of three weeks I remarked a change in the 
 boy — he was visibly thinner. It was like the effect of 
 love, as it is described in novels. Gregory Alexandro - 
 witch had goaded him into a species of madness. 
 ‘ Azamat,’ he said to him one day, ‘ I see that you have 
 an imhappy passion for that horse, and unfortunately 
 
30 
 
 BELA. 
 
 you are not very likely to get hold of it. Let’s see, 
 now, — v/hat will you give to the man who should make 
 you a present of it ? ’ , 
 
 ‘ Anything that he would ask,’ replied the young 
 mountaineer. 
 
 “ ‘ In this case, I undertake to procure it for you ; 
 but on one condition, and only one. Do you swear to 
 fulfil it ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ I swear ! And you ? ’ 
 
 ‘ Certainly, I swear to put you in possession of 
 Kazbitch’s horse, if you put me in possession of your 
 sister Bela. I hope you are content with the 
 bargain,’ 
 
 “ Azamat was silent. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ You will not ? Be it so ! I thought you were 
 a man, and yet you are but a child. In truth you are 
 but young to manage such a steed.’ 
 
 “ The boy reddened with anger. 
 
 ‘ And my father !’ he exclaimed, with a faltering 
 
 voice. 
 
 ‘ Your father, — does he never leave home ?’ 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Ah! you remind me,’ said Azamat. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Is it agreed ?’ 
 
 “ ‘ It is,’ he murmured faintly, and turning pale as 
 as death. ‘ And when ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ The next time that Kazbitch comes here; he has 
 promised to bring some sheep to the fort. The rest is 
 my business.’ 
 
 The bargain was concluded. In good truth it 
 was no very creditable affair. I spoke of it afterwards 
 
BELA. 
 
 31 
 
 to Petchorin : he replied, > That the Circassian girl 
 would only be too happy to be his ; that, according to 
 their customs, he would be to her as a husband. That 
 as for Kazbitch, he was a rascal who would only be 
 treated as he deserved.’ I knew not what to answer, 
 and he knew so well how to calm one’s scruples ! 
 
 “ One day, then, Kazbitch came to offer us some 
 sheep, and some honey. I told him to come again the 
 next day. 
 
 “ It was as though it had happened on purpose ; a 
 few hours later Azamat made his appearance. 
 
 “ ‘ Listen,’ said Petchorin to him ; ^ to-morrow 
 
 Karagos will be in my power. Bring me Bela this 
 night, or never shall you set eyes on the beautiful 
 steed.’ And Azamat ran in all haste to the village. In 
 the evening, Petchorin armed himself, and rode out of 
 the fort. 
 
 “ I never knew exactly how they had concerted this 
 expedition ; at any rate, when they returned at night- 
 fall, the sentinel saw a woman lying across Azamat’s 
 saddle. The captive was bound hand and foot, and a 
 veil covered her head.” 
 
 “ And the horse ?” I inquired. 
 
 “ Patience ! he’s coming. 
 
 The next day, Kazbitch brought his honey and 
 his sheep. After having tied up his horse, he came to 
 me. I ordered some tea for him. He was but a 
 brigand ; still this brigand was my guest. 
 
 ^‘We were speaking of different things. All at 
 once I saw him start and change colour. He rushed 
 
32 - 
 
 BELA. 
 
 to the window, which unfortunately looked only into the 
 yard. 
 
 “ ‘ What’s the matter ? ’ said I. 
 
 ^ My horse! My horse!’ exclaimed he, trem- 
 bling from head to foot. 
 
 “ In fact, I heard the sound of a horse’s gallop. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Some Cossack has arrived,’ I remarked. 
 
 “ ‘ No, no ! Oh ! a curse upon him ! ’ he exclaimed, 
 foaming with rage ; and he rushed from the room like 
 an angry leopard. 
 
 “ In two bounds he had reached the door, the sentry 
 tried to barricade the way with his musket ; Kazbitch 
 leaped over the piece, and the next instant he was 
 running along on the high-road. 
 
 “ A cloud of dust was perceptible in the distance. 
 It was Azamat, flying at the full speed of his newly- 
 acquired courser. Still running, Kazbitch drew forth 
 his rifle from its case, and fired ; we heard a report. 
 He stopped a moment, long enough to convince himself 
 that he had missed his aim ; then, perverse as a true 
 pagan, he dashed the weapon against a stone, and 
 broke it into pieces. Then he threw himself upon the 
 ground, and sobbed like a child. 
 
 “ His outcries had attracted a crowd round the fort ; 
 he was hemmed in and questioned on all sides, but he 
 would see — would hear nothing. Each person formed 
 his own conclusions ; and at length, all left him. I 
 ordered the amount of our purchase to be placed near 
 him ; he would not touch it ; he laid himself down with 
 his face to the ground, as though he were dead, and 
 
BELA. 
 
 33 
 
 remained the whole night in that position. The next 
 day he returned to the fort, to endeavour to discover 
 who was the thief. The sentry, who had seen Azamat 
 let loose the horse, and then gallop off, informed him of 
 all the circumstances. Kazbitch on hearing the name 
 of Azamat, ran like a madman to the village where 
 the Prince lived.’’ 
 
 “ And the father ?” inquired I. 
 
 “ He had been absent some days, and this circum- 
 stance had facilitated the enterprise. At his return, he 
 fmmd neither his daughter nor his son. Azamat, 
 cunning as he was, judged that it would be all over 
 with him if he were caught. Since that time no 
 one has heard of him. He probably joined some band 
 of marauders on the Terek or the Kouban, where he 
 has very likely left his bones — a specific cure for all the 
 evils and embarrassments of this world. All I know 
 is, that in this unfortunate affair, I had my full share 
 of troubles. When I learned that the Circassian was 
 with Petchorin, I donned my epaulettes, belted on my 
 sword, and went to his quarters. I found him in his 
 outer room, lying on the sofa, supporting his head with 
 one hand, while in the other he still held his pipe, 
 although it had burned itself out. The door of the inner 
 room was locked. I remarked all this at a glance. 
 
 I coughed, and tapped the floor lightly with the 
 heel of my boot. He still pretended not to hear. 
 
 “ ‘ Lieutenant ! ’ said I, in a tone that I endeavoured 
 to render severe ; ‘ do you not perceive my presence ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ Ah, how do you do, Maximus Maximitch ! You 
 
34 
 
 BELA. 
 
 will smoke a pipe, of course, won’t you ?’ said he, with- 
 out stirring. 
 
 ‘ Excuse me. It is not Maximus Maximitch who is 
 here. It is the Captain.’ 
 
 “ ‘ It’s all the same ; perhaps you’ll take some tea ? 
 If you knew .’ 
 
 “ ‘ I know all,’ I continued, approaching the sofa. 
 
 “ ‘ I am very glad of it ; for to tell you the truth, I 
 am not much in the humour for entering into details.’ 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Lieutenant ! you have committed a fault, the re- 
 sponsibility of which falls upon me.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Come, come ! we have gone halves in every- 
 thing, since I don’t know how long.’ 
 
 “ ‘ This is no time for jesting. Your sword, if you 
 please ! ’ 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Mitka, my sword ! ’ 
 
 “ Mitka brought it. 
 
 “ Having performed my duty, I seated myself on the 
 sofa, and said to him : — 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Gregory Alexandro witch, you must own that this 
 is not well done.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Where’s the great harm ? ’ 
 
 ‘“You have acted very wrong in carrying off Bela. 
 Curse that Azamat ! Come, allow that you have done 
 wrong ! ’ 
 
 ‘“I have done right, since she pleases me !’ 
 
 “ What the deuce could one say to that ! I was 
 dumbfoundered. However, I ended by declaring that 
 if her father claimed her, he must positively give 
 her up. 
 
BELA. 
 
 35 
 
 “ ‘ I dare say,’ said Petchorin. 
 
 ‘ And if he hears she is here ?’ 
 
 “ ‘ How can he hear it ?’ 
 
 “ I could make him no answer. 
 
 “ ‘ Hear me, Maximus Maximitch,’ replied he, 
 slightly raising himself from his recumbent posture. 
 ‘ I know you to be an honest man. If we give Bela 
 back to this savage, either he will stab her, or he will 
 sell her. The thing is done ; we should only be pur- 
 posely making bad worse. Leave the Circassian with 
 me, and keep my sword.’ 
 
 “ ‘ At least, let me see her,’ said I. 
 
 “ ‘ She is in the next room ; but just now it is 
 useless to try to speak to her ; she is crouched up in a 
 corner, with her coverlet wrapped round her. She is 
 shy and timid as a fawn. I have placed near her a 
 woman who can speak nothing but Tartar, whom I 
 have told to take care of her, and gradually accustom 
 her to the idea, that henceforward she belongs to me ; 
 for mine, and none else’s shall she be,’ he added, striking 
 the table with his clenched fist. 
 
 “ I ended by giving up the point. What could one 
 do ? It is ever so with some people ; one discusses, one 
 disputes with them, to come round at last to their 
 opinions.” 
 
 How did matters terminate ? Did Petchorin suc- 
 ceed in overcoming Bela’s timid reserve ? Or, did the 
 poor girl die of grief for her family and her country ? ” 
 
 “ As to her family, you have seen how tender the 
 brother was. Heaven only knows what the father was 
 
36 
 
 BELA. 
 
 capable of doing ! As to her country, she could see, 
 from the fort, the same mountains she was accustomed 
 to look upon at home ; for these barbarians this is all- 
 sufficient. Then, Petchorin offered her some new 
 present every day. At first she proudly refused to 
 accept of anything, and the presents formed the per- 
 quisites of her companion, who became in consequence 
 more and more attentive in her duties. With presents, 
 look you, one sooner or later arrives at anything. 
 What will a woman not do for a piece of coloured 
 frippery ! Nevertheless, the struggle lasted some time ; 
 sufficiently long for him to learn Tartar, and for her to 
 become familiar with Puss. By degrees she grew 
 accustomed to the presence of Petchorin ; sometimes, 
 indeed, she stole a glance at him ; but she was always 
 sad. When she warbled one of her country’s songs, it 
 was with so melancholy an expression, that I felt 
 myself deeply moved while listening to her from an 
 adjoining room. 
 
 “ One day, I witnessed a scene that I shall never 
 forget. As I passed her window, which happened to be 
 open, I cast a look into the apartment. She was seated 
 upon a stool, her head bent forward. Petchorin was 
 standing before her. 
 
 “ ‘ Listen, my Peri ! ’ said he ; ‘ as, sooner or later, 
 you must be mine, what do you gain by torturing me ? 
 If you have given your heart to some Circassian, 
 speak, and you are free this very instant !’ 
 
 “ The young girl gave a scarcely perceptible start, 
 and shook her head. 
 
BELA. 
 
 37 
 
 “ ‘ Perhaps,’ added Petchorin, ‘ you have an un- 
 conquerable aversion to me.’ 
 
 “ She sighed. 
 
 “ ‘ Do you fear to oflPend your religion, which 
 forbids you to love me ? Believe me, Allah is the 
 father of all races. Since He allows me to love you, 
 how should He be angry at your loving me ? ’ 
 
 ‘‘ Here, as if struck by this new idea, she fixed on 
 Petchorin eyes that expressed, at once, the anxiety of 
 doubt and the desire of conviction. What eyes they 
 were ! they flashed lightning. 
 
 ‘ Listen, Bela,’ he continued ; ‘ thou Imowest how 
 I love thee ! I would give all on earth to see thee gay 
 and happy. If thou remainest thus sad, I shall die. 
 Tell me thou wilt be Jess sorrowful.’ 
 
 ‘‘ Still pensive, she followed him with her eyes. At 
 length her features assumed a smile — a kind of caress- 
 ing expression, and she made with her head a sign of 
 acquiescence. Petchorin had meanwhile taken her 
 hand; becoming bolder, he coaxed her to bestow on 
 him a kiss. She resisted faintly ; nothing could be 
 more graceful than her entreaties, expressed, as they 
 were, in a foreign accent. She wept, she trembled. 
 
 “ ‘ I am your captive — your slave,’ said she; ‘ without 
 doubt, you can use compulsion.’ And she wept anew. 
 
 “ Gregory Alexandro witch struck his forehead 
 violently, and rushed into the other room. I went to 
 him. He was gloomy, and was walking up and down 
 with his arms folded across his breast. 
 
 “ ‘ Well,’ said I. 
 
38 
 
 BELA. 
 
 “ ' She is a demon, and not a woman ! ’ he ex- 
 claimed. ‘ But I wont be conquered ! I give you my 
 word of honour ! ’ 
 
 ‘‘ I shook my head. 
 
 ‘6 ‘ Will you wager that before eight days ? ^ 
 
 “ I accepted the wager. He placed his hand in 
 mine, and I left him. 
 
 “ The very next day, he despatched a messenger to 
 Kizliar to make several purchases. There were stuffs 
 from Persia — one more beautiful than the others, of 
 which I will spare you the catalogue. 
 
 ‘ Maximus Maximitch,’ said Petchorin, showing 
 me these stuffs, ‘ do you believe that an Asiatic beauty 
 can resist this species of attack ? ’ 
 
 ‘‘‘You don’t know the Circassians,’ I answered; 
 
 ‘ they are totally different from the Georgians, and 
 from the Tartar women beyond the Caucasus. You 
 must not confuse one with the other. These have their 
 own ways; they are differently brought up.’ 
 
 “ Petchorin smiled, and began to whistle a march. 
 
 “ The result proved that I was right. The pre- 
 sents only partially effected what he had contemplated. 
 Bela was less timid, more confiding ; but that was all. 
 
 “ Piqued by this resistance, he had recourse to a 
 final measure. One morning, he ordered his horse, and 
 entered her room ready armed, and dressed like a 
 Circassian. 
 
 “ ‘ Bela,’ said he, ‘ when I resolved to carry you 
 away, I did it in the hope that when you knew me, 
 you would grant love for love. I have been deceived 
 
BELA. 
 
 39 
 
 in that hope ! Farewell ! I leave you all I possess. 
 If you will return to your father, you are free to do so, 
 I am guilty in your eyes ; and will punish myself for 
 that guilt. Adieu ! I leave you. I have no aim, no pur- 
 pose ; but it matters not. Perhaps in exposing myself 
 to balls and poignards, I may soon be rid of my ex- 
 istence. When I am no more, Bela, will you bestow 
 on me one thought, — will you forgive me ?’ 
 
 “ He held out his hand to her, and turned away 
 his head. 
 
 “ She remained silent and motionless as a statue. 
 I was watching her through a crevice in the door. 
 She was pale as death. 
 
 “ Beceiving no answer, Petchorin walked a few 
 steps, as if going. He trembled. Look you, he was 
 just the man to act up to the very letter of the engage- 
 ment, that he had at first entered upon as a jest. The 
 most unintelligible of characters ! He was just at the 
 door ; all at once, she made a spring, threw her arms 
 round his neck, and sobbed. Will you believe it, there 
 were tears in my own eyes. When I say tears, I mean 
 — in short, it was childishness.” 
 
 Here the Captain paused. 
 
 “ I confess,” he continued, smoothing his mousta- 
 chios, “ I regretted no woman had ever loved me thus.” 
 And did their happiness last ? ” I inquired of him. 
 
 “ Yes, indeed ! Bela allowed that, since she first 
 saw Petchorin at her father’s house, she had often 
 dreamed of him, and that no man had ever made so 
 great an impression on her. Yes, they were happy ! ” 
 
40 
 
 BELA. 
 
 ‘‘What a disappointment!” I exclaimed, involun- 
 tarily. “ I had been all along expecting a tragic ending 1 
 And the father, did he never learn that his daughter 
 was at the fort ?” 
 
 “ I believe that he had some suspicions of the fact, 
 but he had no opportunity to verify them. A few days 
 afterwards, we heard that the old man had been killed. 
 I will tell you how.” 
 
 My interest revived. 
 
 “ Kazbitch — at least I imagine so — thought that 
 Azamat had robbed him of his horse, with his father’s 
 privity and consent. One day, therefore, he lay in 
 wait for the old man, about three versts away from the 
 village. The Prince was returning from a fruitless 
 search after his daughter; his retainers were some 
 distance in the rear. It was growing dark. He was 
 riding pensively along at a slow pace ; when suddenly 
 Kazbitch sprung from a bush like a wild cat, leaped 
 upon the saddle behind the old man, struck him to the 
 earth by a blow with his dagger, then seized the bridle, 
 and galloped away. Some of the Prince’s vassals, who 
 had seen the whole proceeding from the hill, hastened 
 in pursuit of him ; but he had the start, and gained the 
 mountain fastnesses.” 
 
 “ His act procured him compensation and revenge 
 at the same time,” said I to the officer, to draw forth 
 his opinion. 
 
 “Without doubt,” replied he; “looking at the 
 matter in the light they do themselves, he was perfectly 
 right.” 
 
BELA. 
 
 41 
 
 This reflection struck me ; I could not help admiring 
 the aptitude of the Kussian for accommodating himself 
 to the prejudices and customs of the people with whom 
 he happens to come in contact. I am not certain that 
 this aptitude is praiseworthy, but at any rate it proves 
 the surprising flexibility of his nature, and a wholesome 
 appreciation of the things which lead him to excuse 
 evil, whenever it is the efiect of necessity, and to accept 
 it without a murmur when it is without remedy. 
 
 We had finished our tea, and our horses, that had 
 been put to some time since, were impatiently pawing 
 the snow-covered ground. 
 
 In the west, the moon was growing paler and 
 paler, as if preparing to disappear behind the clouds, 
 that hung upon the heights like the shreds of a torn 
 curtain. We came out from the hut. 
 
 Contrary to the predictions of the Captain, the 
 weather had cleared up, and gave promise of a fine 
 morning. The stars seemed scattered in shapeless 
 groups over the horizon, and vanished one after the 
 other, as the pale gleam from the east extended itself 
 over the azure of the firmament, lighting up the moun- 
 tain summits, in their robes of eternal and virgin snow. 
 On each side the eye plunged into mysterious and 
 fathomless depths, with clouds of mist, rolling up and 
 then unfolding themselves, looking like gigantic rep- 
 tiles crawling into the abyss, through the fissures of 
 the rock, as if wishing to hide themselves from the 
 light of day. 
 
 This scene, in its rich magnificence, was impressed 
 
 D 
 
42 
 
 BELA. 
 
 with a religious stillness. Only at intervals a fresh 
 breeze, wafted from the east, raised the frost-bespangled 
 manes of our horses. 
 
 We set out. Five sorry hacks dragged our carriages 
 with great difficulty up the winding path that leads to 
 the Gout Gora. 
 
 We followed on foot, occasionally blocking the 
 wheels with stones, to prevent the vehicle from rolling 
 backwards down the slope, when the panting horses 
 stopped to breathe. 
 
 It seemed as if this path led up to the sky, for as far 
 as the eye could reach, it mounted uninterruptedly to 
 the clouds ; which, since yesterday eve, rested on the 
 mountain crest, like vultures watching for their prey. 
 
 The snow crackled under our feet — the air was so 
 rarefied that we could hardly breathe — at every instant 
 the blood rushed violently to my head ; yet an inde- 
 scribable sensation of enjoyment circulated through my 
 veins. I felt a sort of voluptuous pleasure, in seeing 
 from this height the world, as it were, at my feet. This, 
 I admit, was only a childish kind of joy ; but man, in 
 casting off the social fetters that bind his existence, to 
 enable him to attain to a greater intimacy with nature^ 
 in defiance of his own will becomes again a child. Then 
 the soul throws off all that is artificial, and aspires 
 to restore itself to its originally pure condition, to 
 which it will doubtless one day return. He who, like 
 me, has wandered over desert mountains, has con- 
 templated their marvellous forms under every aspect, 
 and has inhaled the life- stirring air, wafted through 
 
BELA. 
 
 43 
 
 their rocky crevices, will understand without diffi- 
 culty the longing desire that I feel to recall by lan- 
 guage, pen, or pencil, these scenes of magical attraction. 
 
 On the summit of the Gout Gora we stopped to 
 gaze around. A gray cloud, hanging suspended over the 
 mountain, chilled us with its icy damp, and announced a 
 coming storm ; but the east was radiant with a hue so 
 clear and golden, as to make us forget both the cloud 
 and what it menaced. 
 
 I say us^ for the Captain felt the fascination as power- 
 fully as myself. I believe even that these grand and 
 sublime scenes of nature produce on simple minds like 
 his, a deeper and more vivid impression than they do on 
 us, who are merely enthusiasts in words and on paper. 
 
 “ You are accustomed to these magnificent scenes,” 
 I observed to him. 
 
 “ Yes, as one gets accustomed to the whizzing of 
 bullets, as one accustoms one’s self to master the in- 
 voluntary emotions of the heart.” 
 
 “ They say, however, that for the old soldier the 
 music you mention has a charm.” 
 
 “ I admit it, but it is always because the heart beats 
 quicker than usual. Look,” said he, “towards the 
 east — what a view ! ” 
 
 And in truth this panorama is unrivalled in beauty. 
 Beneath us the valley of the Koitaoui*, with the Aragva 
 and another river winding through it like two threads 
 of silver ; a bluish mist was creeping up its side ; and 
 on the right and left extended a line of jagged rocks, 
 covered with snow and clusters of trees. The sun was 
 
 D 2 
 
44 
 
 BELA. 
 
 just beginning to appear from behind the mountain 
 tops, which could scarce be distinguished from the 
 vapours that covered them ; and above the sun stretched 
 a blood-red streak, which particularly arrested the at- 
 tention of my companion. 
 
 ‘*I told you,” he exclaimed, ‘^that we should have 
 a storm to-day. We had better make haste, if we do 
 not wish to be caught on the Krestovo’i. Come, I say, 
 all of you there, rouse, will you ! ” he called out to the 
 drivers. 
 
 We locked the wheels for fear of accidents, and 
 began to descend. 
 
 On our right extended a ravine ; on our left there 
 was a precipice so deep, that an Ossete village, in the 
 bend of the valley appeared to us, like a swallow’s 
 ne.st. 
 
 I could not help shuddering at the thought, that in 
 the dead of night, the crown courier passed ever this 
 same road ten times in the year, without descending 
 from his frail vehicle. 
 
 One of our drivers was a Russian peasant from the 
 environs of Jaroslavle ; the other was an Ossete. The 
 latter led the shaft horse by the bridle, after having 
 taken the precaution to unyoke the others. As to our 
 Russian, he had not troubled himself to get down from 
 his seat. 
 
 * I represented to him that a little more zeal would 
 not be amiss, if it were only for the sake of my port- 
 manteau, which I was not inclined to dive aAer in 
 'tliat gulf. 
 
BELA. 
 
 45 
 
 “ Pooh ! ’’ he replied. “If it please God, we shall 
 arrive safely, just the same as hundreds of others ! ’’ 
 
 He was right : we did arrive safely ! It is true, 
 that we might not have done so ; but, nevertheless, 
 we did. 
 
 This indifference, may it not be the supremacy of 
 reason ? After all, is life really worth so many 
 cares and anxieties ? 
 
 The reader will think, perhaps, that my reflections 
 and my descriptions, are not worth the end of Bela’s 
 story. But first, I beg that he will bear in mind that 
 I am not writing a novel, but simply the relation of a 
 journey. It is not my fault if the Captain did not 
 resume his narrative, at the very instant that the 
 interest began to flag. A little patience, then ; unless 
 it be more agreeable to skip a few leaves, which I do 
 not advise, for the reason that the Krestovoi, or, as the 
 learned Garnba ridiculously calls it. Mount St. Christo- 
 pher, is not unworthy of attention. 
 
 We continued to descend the slope of the Gout 
 Gora into the Devil’s valley. 
 
 You imagine, perhaps, by this romantic appella- 
 tion, some site worthy of the spirit of darkness, sur- 
 rounded by inaccessible rocks. Nothing of the sort. 
 
 “ This is the Krestovoi,” said the Captain, as he 
 descended into the valley, showing me a hill covered 
 with snow, on the top of which rose a black cross of 
 stone. Bound this hill winds a path, that one perceives 
 with difficulty, and that is only followed when the 
 ordinary route is impeded by snows. 
 
46 
 
 BELA. 
 
 Our drivers observed to us that there was not the 
 slightest trace of an avalanche ; and to spare our 
 horses, they took the circuitous path. At the com- 
 mencement of the slope we met some Ossetes, who 
 offered us their services, and who, with great shouting, 
 set about pushing and steadying our carriages. 
 
 The way was really dangerous ; on our right were 
 suspended masses of snow, which, at the first gust of 
 wind, threatened to roll into the ravine. The path 
 was narrow and covered with snow, that gave way 
 under our feet in some places, while in others it had 
 been converted into ice by the alternate action of the 
 sun and frosts, so that we advanced with the greatest 
 difficulty. 
 
 The horses were slipping and falling about. Through 
 the ravine which opened to our left, there rolled a tor- 
 rent, which was sometimes covered with ice, and some- 
 times dashed and foamed over the dark-coloured rocks. 
 We were two long hours winding up this path — half a 
 league in two hours !' 
 
 Suddenly the cloud burst into whirlwinds of snow 
 and hail ; the wind howled furiously through the clefts 
 of the ravines, whistling like the robber Nightingale, of 
 whom the tradition runs, that his whistle was audible 
 from one end of Russia to the other. The cross soon 
 disappeared in the mist, clouds of which, more and 
 more dense and serried, kept advancing from the east. 
 By the way, a tradition — strange and much accredited — 
 will have it, that Peter the Great erected that cross 
 when he advanced into the Caucasus. In the first 
 
BELA. 
 
 47 
 
 place, Peter never went beyond Daghestan ; and more- 
 over, an inscription, engraved in large letters, declares 
 that it was raised in 1824, by order of Yei*molof. The 
 tradition, in spite of the evidence of the stone itself, is 
 so general, that one is puzzled what to believe, par- 
 ticularly as the learned have made inscriptions say so 
 many things ! 
 
 We had yet a league and a quarter to get over — 
 still down hill and a stony road, where we only quitted 
 the slippery ice to sink into melting snow — ^before 
 we could reach the station of Kobi. Our horses were 
 jaded, ourselves benumbed. The fury of the hurricane 
 continued to increase. It was a regular storm of our 
 northern climate ; except that its voice had a tone 
 somewhat more sad and plaintive. Spirit of the 
 snow-storm!” I exclaimed, “thou weepest for thy 
 native Steppe ! There, at least, thou mayest unfold 
 freely thine icy wings ; but here thou lackest space, like 
 the eagle who screams as he beats against the iron bars 
 of his cage.” 
 
 “ This is turning out badly,” said the Captain ; “on 
 all sides nothing is to be seen but mist and snow. We 
 have the delightful alternative of a ravine or a snow- 
 drift. If one fell into the ravine, one would not be certain 
 of not going lower still, and the Baidara doesn’t appear 
 to me in a very good condition to be forded. This 
 is just like Asia! The rivers and the men are all 
 alike — neither are to be depended on.” 
 
 Our drivers kept swearing and beating their horses, 
 which nothing on earth could induce to move. At 
 
48 
 
 BELA. 
 
 length, one of these fellows said to the Captain : “Your 
 honour doubtless sees that it will not be possible for 
 us to get to Kobi to-day. If you would allow us to turn 
 to the left, you may see there, on the hill-side, a black 
 spot — probably some hut in which travellers, surprised 
 by a storm, take shelter. These Ossetes engage to 
 lead us there for a trifle to drink.” 
 
 “ Friend,” replied the Captain, “ I know well 
 enough, without your telling me, that there is nothing 
 those people will not do for drink-money.” 
 
 “ You must allow, however,” said I, “ that without 
 them we might be still worse ofi*.” 
 
 “ Pshaw ! nonsense ! ” said the oflicer. “ Nice guides 
 they are, upon my word ! They find themselves by 
 instinct wherever there is anything to be gained.” 
 
 ■We turned to the left, and after encountering 
 obstacles of every kind, at length arrived at a miserable 
 shelter, consisting of two huts, formed of chalk and 
 pebbles, surrounded by a wall of the same mate- 
 rials. 
 
 The owners of these wretched habitations gave us 
 a cordial welcome. I learned afterwards that govern- 
 ment pays and supports them, on condition that they 
 harbour distressed travellers. 
 
 “ Everything is for the best,” said I to the Captain, 
 seating myself by the fire ; “ now you can resume the 
 story of Bela, for I am sure it is not finished.” 
 
 “ And what makes you think so?” replied he, with 
 a knowing look. 
 
 “ Because nothing seems more likely. What had 
 
BELA. 
 
 49 
 
 SO remarkable a beginning, must have a singular con- 
 clusion.” 
 
 “ Well, you are right.” 
 
 I am glad of it.” 
 
 ‘‘ Be glad of it if you will. For my own part, I 
 cannot think of it without a sensation of painful regret. 
 She was a lovely and interesting creature, that poor 
 Bela ! I had learned to love her like a child, and she 
 showed great confidence and great afiection towards me. 
 I must tell you I have no family. It is twelve years 
 since I have heard anything of my father and mother. 
 As to marrying, I did not think of it till it was too 
 late. Now, you see, it would scarcely suit my age. 
 I was, therefore, delighted to have some one to 
 spoil. Sometimes she would sing to us or dance the 
 Lesghien. Such dancing ! I have seen our fine ladies 
 in the provinces. Once, even, I chanced to get into 
 good society in Moscow. It’s now about twenty years 
 ago ; but what a difference ! It was quite another 
 thing. Petchorin dressed her out like a doll; he thought 
 of nothing but patting and caressing her ; and she 
 grew more and more lovely every day. Her face and 
 hands lost their sunburnt hue, her cheeks bloomed like 
 roses. Playful as a child, she was always practising 
 some trick upon me. Heaven forgive the poor 
 thing!” 
 
 “ How did she bear the intelligence of her father’s 
 death?” 
 
 “ We kept it from her for some time, wishing her 
 first to become used to her new position. She knew it 
 
50 
 
 BELA. 
 
 at last, however ; then she wept bitterly for some 
 days, but love consoled her. 
 
 “ During four months everything went on delight- 
 fully. I think I told you that Petchorin was passion- 
 ately fond of hunting. Formerly he would plunge into 
 the thickest of the forest after a boar or a fawn ; but 
 since Bela was with us he hardly went beyond the 
 valley which the fort overlooks. One day, however, 
 he appeared to me unusually pensive ; he was walking 
 up and down his room with a thoughtful air. Suddenly 
 he went out to shoot without saying a word to any one, 
 and remained away all the morning. This happened 
 several times, at intervals less and less distant. A bad 
 sign, I thought to myself. Some black cat has jumped 
 between them ! 
 
 “ One day I entered their apartment. I could fancy 
 myself there now, so distinctly can I recall everything. 
 Bela was seated on a sofa, so pale and languid that I 
 felt alarmed at her appearance. She was dressed in a 
 black silk robe. 
 
 ‘ Where is Petchorin ? ’ I asked. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Hunting.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Did he go out to-day ? ’ 
 
 “ She was silent. It was painful for her to explain. 
 ‘ No,’ she said at length, ‘ he did not come home 
 yesterday.’ And she sighed deeply. 
 
 “ ^ Can anything have happened to him ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ Yesterday,’ added she, weeping, ‘ I imagined all 
 the most dreadful accidents. A wild boar has wounded 
 him, I said to myself, or some Tchetchenitz has led 
 
BELA. 
 
 51 
 
 him captive into the mountains ; but to-day I have only 
 one thought — he loves me no more ! ’ 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ To say the truth, my dear child, of all casualties, 
 that would be the worst.’ 
 
 “ She began to weep anew ; then suddenly raising 
 her head with a proud movement, she dried her tears. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ If he does not love me,’ she went on, ‘ w^hy not 
 send me back to my home ? Do I force him to keep 
 me ? If this continues, I shall find means to leave 
 him ! I am not his slave. My father was a prince ! ’ 
 
 “ I tried to reason with her. 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Listen, Bela,’ I said ; ‘ he cannot remain all day, 
 as if tied to the skirts of your dress. He is young, 
 hunting amuses him ; but he will return. The surest 
 way to send him away, is to fret thus.’ 
 
 “ ‘ ’Tis true ! ’tis true ! Well, I will be gay.’ She 
 took her tambourine, and began to sing, to dance, and 
 frolic around me. But this fit did not last long. She 
 threw herself on her couch, and covered her face with 
 her hands. 
 
 “ What was I to do ? I never could get on with 
 women. I racked my brain trying to find some means 
 of consoling her. Nothing presented itself to my 
 mind. For some time we remained opposite to each 
 other, without speaking a word. I know nothing more 
 tedious than such a situation. At length, it came into 
 my head to ask her if she would not take a turn in the 
 valley. It was a fine September day ; the air was 
 mild, without being too warm, and the mountains stood 
 out distinctly, as if they were ranged upon a platform. 
 
52 
 
 EELA. 
 
 “We went out, then, and walked in silence, with- 
 out straying far from the fort. At length she sat 
 down upon the turf, and I placed myself beside her. 
 It was laughable to witness. I watched over her like 
 a nurse. The fort was built on an eminence, and from 
 the ramparts the view was magnificent. On one side 
 extended a vast meadow, diversified, however, by the 
 broken nature of the ground. This terminated in a 
 wood, which clothed the whole mountain slope, even 
 to its summit. The smoke rose here and there from 
 some villages, and from time to time a herd of horses 
 passed before us. On the other side, flowed a little 
 river, in which were mirrored the clusters of trees 
 which crown these rocky heights, that stretch away, 
 until they at length unite with the great Caucasian 
 chain. 
 
 “We were seated upon the angle of a bastion, con- 
 templating this rich and. varied landscape. Suddenly, 
 a horseman debouched from the wood ; he rode a gray 
 horse — he stopped on the opposite bank of the river, 
 about two hundred feet off. 
 
 “ There he began to make his horse turn and caper 
 like one possessed. 
 
 “ ‘ Your eyes are younger than mine/ said I to 
 Bela ; ‘just look — what the devil is he about ?’ 
 
 “ ‘ It is Kazbitch,’ replied she. 
 
 Ah, the scoundrel! is it for us he’s playing off 
 this farce ? ’ 
 
 “ I soon recognised him myself, by his bistre- 
 coloured face, and his tattered dress. 
 
BELA. 
 
 53 
 
 ‘‘‘It is my father’s horse!’ said Bela, with great 
 emotion. She trembled like an aspen leaf, and her eyes 
 flashed Are. 
 
 “ ‘ Oh, oh !’ said I, ‘ this little girl has also some of 
 the mountain blood in her veins.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Come here,’ said I to the sentinel ; ‘ take your 
 musket, and bring me down that varlet; you shall have 
 a silver rouble, if you take good aim.’ 
 
 “ ‘ I’ll settle him. Commandant ; but he wont stand 
 still.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Well, tell him to be polite enough to do so.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Hark ye, friend ! ’ said the sentinel, making a 
 sign to him with his hand ; ‘ stop a moment, you turn 
 round upon yourself like a top.’ 
 
 “ Upon this invitation, Kazbitch stopped a moment 
 to listen. My grenadier takes aim, fires — ‘ Your ser- 
 vant, sir.’ The powder had not time to fall into the 
 pan, when our man wheeled round ; he drew himself 
 up in the stirrups, sent us some compliments after his 
 own peculiar style, and was ofi*, threatening us with his 
 whip. 
 
 “ ‘ This is not to your honour,’ said I to the sentinel. 
 
 “ ‘ Commandant, he will soon be killed ; but with 
 these people, one shot is not enough.’ 
 
 “ A quarter of an hour afterwards, Petchorin came 
 home from the chase. Bela threw herself into his arms 
 without uttering a word of complaint — without address- 
 ing to him a single reproach. For my part, I was 
 really angry with him. 
 
 “ ‘ What are you thinking about ? ’ I said to him. 
 
54 
 
 BELA. 
 
 ‘ Do you know that Kazbitch was, a moment or two 
 ago, on the opposite bank of the river, and that we 
 fired at him ? Is it not the most flagrant imprudence ? 
 these mountaineers are so vindictive. Do you think 
 he does not suspect that you acted in concert with 
 Azamat ? I’ll wager he recognised Bela ; it is scarcely 
 a year since he was desperately in love with her : he 
 told me so himself. If he could have scraped together 
 sufficient money, he would certainly have married her.’ 
 “ Here Petchorin began to reflect. 
 
 “ ‘You are right ; I must be more prudent. Bela, 
 from this day, I forbid you to go into the valley.’ 
 
 I had a long explanation with Petchorin. I saw, with 
 pain, that he was no longer the same towards this poor 
 child. Not satisfied with spending half his time in 
 hunting, he treated her daily more and more coldly. 
 Bela pined away visibly; her pretty features had an 
 expression of suffering, and her beautiful eyes had no 
 longer the same brightness. 
 
 “ I sometimes would say to her : ‘ Why do you sigh, 
 Bela? You are sorrowful.’ 
 
 “ ‘ No.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Do you desire anything ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘No.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Would you like to see your relations?’ 
 
 “ ‘ I have no relations.’ 
 
 “ For whole days, the only answer that could be 
 elicited from her, was a ‘ Yes,’ or a ‘ No.’ 
 
 “ She made me unhappy. I spoke to Petchorin 
 about her. 
 
BELA. 
 
 55 
 
 “ ‘ Maximus Maximitch,’ lie replied ; ‘ I have an 
 unfortunate disposition; whether education has made 
 it for me, or whether God created me thus, I know not. 
 I only know, that if I am the cause of the misfortunes 
 of others, I am not the happier for it myself. You will 
 say that, for those I afflict, this is but a sorry consola- 
 tion. But what’s to be done ? — it is so. In my earliest 
 youth, when scarcely freed from my guardians, I tasted 
 madly of all the pleasures that fortune can procure ; 
 and, as you will easily believe, after excessive in- 
 dulgence in these pleasures, came the disgust of them. 
 Then I entered upon public life, and public life became 
 to me a burden. I sought for amusement in love. I 
 loved — I was loved ; but this fluctuating sentiment 
 only stimulated my imagination or my vanity. My 
 heart remained empty — void — untouched. I took 
 
 refuge in study ; of which I tired, as of all the rest. I 
 was not long in perceiving that science leads neither to 
 fame nor to happiness, since the happiest people are 
 the most ignorant ; and fame, being the result of blind 
 chance, proceeds more from intrigue than merit. Thus, 
 I was disgusted with everything. By-and-by, I was 
 sent to the Caucasus, and that was the happiest time 
 of my life. I did hope, that one could hardly be weary 
 among the bullets of the mountaineers — another illusion. 
 At the end of a month, I had become so accustomed to 
 the whizzing of the shot, that the musquittoes — I say it 
 without exaggeration — troubled me the most ; and I felt 
 more bored than ever, seeing that this last resource 
 failed me. The first time I saw Bela at her father’s. 
 
56 
 
 BELA. 
 
 and afterwards, when I pressed to my lips her dark 
 tresses, I deceived myself so far as to believe that she 
 was an angel sent to me by the compassionate mercy of 
 Heaven — another deception. The love of a wild girl 
 is scarce worth more than that of a fine lady; one 
 wearies of the ignorance of the one, as of the coquetry 
 of the other. It is not but I love her still ; I owe to 
 her some moments of delight, and I would give my life 
 for her; but that does not prevent me from feeling 
 weary of her. Is it folly ? is it perverseness ? — I know 
 not. But I am decidedly as worthy of compassion as 
 she is ; perhaps more so. My nature has been spoiled 
 by the breath of the world ; with a fervid imagination, 
 I have an insatiable heart. Nothing sufiices for me ; I 
 could give myself up to sadness as easily as to pleasure ; 
 and, day by day, my life becomes devoid of interest. 
 I have, however, one thing more to try — travelling, but 
 not in Europe — Heaven keep me from it ! but, as soon 
 as may be, I will visit America, Arabia, India. Perhaps, 
 I shall meet with death, by hoping for it. At least, I 
 have reason to suppose that variety cannot immediately 
 fail me ; thanks to tempests, nocturnal attacks, and 
 bad roads.’ 
 
 ‘‘ He continued for some time in this strain. His 
 words have remained graven in my memory, for it was 
 the first time I had heard such things from lips of five- 
 and-twenty — Heaven grant that the first time may be 
 the last ! What a contrast ! Tell me,” said the Cap- 
 tain, turning towards me ; “ tell me — you have been in 
 the capital — are all our young men like that?” 
 
EELA. 
 
 61 
 
 I replied, tliat this style of language was, indeed, 
 very usual, and that with some, at least, it was, I 
 thought, sincere. Moreover, that this disenchantment 
 of everything, like all fashions, had had its rise in the 
 higher classes of society, and had descended afterwards 
 to the others, among whom it had become so vulgarised, 
 that those who suffer most acutely from this defect of 
 their nature, conceal it as they would a crime.’’ 
 
 The Captain did not comprehend these subtleties ; he 
 shook his head, and said, with his old, knowing smile : 
 “ And is it to the French that we owe the fashion of 
 being wearied ? ” 
 
 “ No ; to the English.” 
 
 ‘‘ That does not astonish me ; they have always 
 been incorrigible drunkards.” 
 
 This sally reminded me of a lady of Moscow, who 
 maintained that Byron was simply a sot. 
 
 But the Captain’s remark was excusable. In his 
 resolution to abstain from wine, he had ended by per- 
 suading himself that all the evils of this world took 
 their source from wine-drinking. 
 
 After this digression, he thus resumed the story of 
 Bela : — 
 
 “ We did not see any more of Kazbitch ; never- 
 theless, I could not help thinking that he was man- 
 oeuvring some dark vengeance. One day, Petchorin 
 asked me to accompany him on one of his hunting 
 expeditions. I sought to excuse myself as well as I 
 could; but he ended, as usual, by persuading me to 
 consent. We took with us an escort of five soldiers, 
 
 E 
 
58 
 
 BELA. 
 
 and set out very early. We scoured the woods and the 
 marshes till ten o’clock, hut started no game. ‘ Would 
 it not be better,’ said I, ‘ to return home ? What can 
 we do ? this is evidently one of those unlucky sort of 
 days.’ 
 
 “ Petchorin, careless alike of heat and fatigue, would 
 not return with his pieces loaded. It was hopeless 
 endeavouring to persuade him to give up his point, 
 when once he had taken a thing into his head. With- 
 out doubt, in his childhood, his mother had humoured 
 all his whims. At length, towards mid-day, we dis- 
 covered a boar. We fired once — twice. Pshaw! it 
 made for the reeds, and got clear off — in short, it was 
 a day of ill luck. There was no help for it but to 
 return home. 
 
 “ We rode along in silence at a slow pace, and were 
 but a short distance from the fort, which was hidden 
 from our view by a copse — all at once we heard a shot 
 fired. We looked at each other — we had both feared 
 the same thing, at the same instant. We started off 
 in the direction of the report. Some soldiers, who had 
 hastened to join us, pointed out to us a horseman flying 
 rapidly across the plain, and bearing some white object 
 before him on his saddle-bow. Petchorin, who was as 
 good a shot as any Tchetchenetz, slipped his gun from 
 its case, and sped after him — I followed. 
 
 “ Fortunately, thanks to the bad success of oui- sport, 
 our horses were still fresh ; they seemed to slide from 
 beneath their saddles, and at each bound we gained 
 upon the ravisher. At length I recognised Kazbitch, 
 
BELA. 
 
 59 
 
 but without being able to make out what he held before 
 him. 
 
 “ ‘ It’s Kazbitch ! ’ I called out, as I neared Petchorin. 
 He nodded, and spurred forward. We were within 
 gunshot of the mountaineer. Whether his horse was 
 not so strong as ours, or whether it was fatigued by 
 a double load, I know not, but he certainly made way 
 with difficulty. I am sure that at this moment he 
 remembered his own good steed. Still galloping for- 
 ward, Petchorin had taken aim. ‘ Do not fire,’ I 
 exclaimed ; ^ do not risk your shot, we are coming up 
 with him.’ Oh, young people ! all energy and fire, 
 where they are not wanted. 
 
 “ He fired, and hit one of the horse’s hind legs. The 
 startled animal advanced about ten paces, and then 
 sunk on his knees. Kazbitch leaped to the ground. 
 
 “ Then we perceived that he held in his arms a 
 woman, whose head was covered with a veil. It was Bela 
 — poor Bela! He called out something in his own tongue, 
 menacing her with his poignard. There was no time 
 to lose. I fired in my turn, without daring to take aim. 
 The ball must have struck his shoulder, for his arm fell 
 to his side. 
 
 When the smoke had cleared away, we perceived 
 the wounded horse stretched on the ground, and near 
 him lay Bela. As for Kazbitch, after having thrown 
 away his gun, he clambered like a cat along the edge 
 of a precipice. I had a great desire to dislodge him, 
 but my gun was not loaded. We sprung from our 
 horses, and ran to Bela. 
 
 E 2 
 
60 
 
 BELA. 
 
 “ Poor young tiling ! she was lying extended without 
 sense or movement, and the blood was fast bubbling 
 forth from her wound. The mean scoundrel ! had he 
 struck her to the heart at once, he had been less cruel ! 
 she would have suffered less — but the back ! Ah, it 
 was indeed a brigand’s stroke ! ^ 
 
 “We tore off her veil to bind up the wound. Pet- 
 chorin covered her cold lips with kisses — nothing could 
 revive her. 
 
 “He remounted, and I succeeded in placing her 
 upon his saddle. He put his arm round her waist, 
 and we set off at a walking pace. ‘ If we do not go 
 faster,’ said Petchorin, ‘ we shall never return with her 
 alive.’ 
 
 “ ‘ True,’ I answered, and we went as fast as our 
 horses could carry us. 
 
 “ A crowd of people awaited us at the entrance of the 
 fort. We carried the dying girl to Petchorin’s quarters, 
 with all possible care, and sent for the doctor. Although 
 intoxicated, he came immediately, and after having ex- 
 amined the wound, declared she had not four and twenty 
 hours to live ; but he was wrong.” 
 
 “ She recovered ? ” I asked of the Captain, taking 
 hold of his hands in the excess of my joy. 
 
 “No,” replied the officer, accustomed to military 
 precision ; “ but instead of four and twenty hours, she 
 died two days after.” 
 
 “ And how had Kazbitch contrived to carry her 
 off?” 
 
 “ In this way : notwithstanding Petchorin had for- 
 
BELA. 
 
 61 
 
 bidden it, she had left the fort to walk by the side of 
 the little river. It was a warm day, she had rested 
 herself on a rock, and was bathing her feet in the 
 stream. Kazbitch, who lay in ambush, rushed on her, 
 gagged her mouth, and carried her into the copse. He 
 held his prey, and he had his horse ready ; with these, 
 a Circassian is never at a loss. 
 
 “ However, she had managed to cry out ; the senti- 
 nels gave the alarm, and fired at him, but missed their 
 aim — just then we came up.” 
 
 “ But why did Kazbitch wish to carry her off ? ” 
 
 “ How do you mean — Why? Because these moun- 
 taineers are always doing these sort of things. They 
 are the very personification of brigandage. If a thing is 
 useless to them, no matter ; they take it for the pleasure 
 of robbing ; such is the fact. Besides, this man had 
 been in love with Bela.” 
 
 So Bela died? ” 
 
 “Two days after — poor child! how she suffered ! 
 We suffered too, and plentifully ! 
 
 “ At about ten at night she came to her senses. 
 W e were seated near her bed-side. 
 
 “ She had scarcely opened her eyes, when she asked 
 for Petchorin. 
 
 “ ‘ I amhere near thee, my djanetchha — that would 
 be, in Buss, ‘ My soul ! my best beloved ! ’ and he took 
 her hand. 
 
 “ ‘ I am dying ! ’ she said to him. 
 
 “We tried to comfort her — told her the surgeon 
 had promised to bring her round. 
 
62 
 
 BELA. 
 
 “ She shook her head, and turned her face towards 
 the wall — poor child ! she did not wish to die. 
 
 In the night she was delirious ; her head burned, 
 and every now and then, feverish shiverings agitated 
 her frame. 
 
 “ She spoke incoherently of her father, her brother ; 
 she longed for her own home, her dear mountains. 
 Then she turned to Petchorin, and called him by a 
 thousand caressing , names — or else she would ask him 
 why he loved her no longer. 
 
 ‘‘He listened in silence: leaning his head on his 
 hand — but I did not see a single tear moisten his eye- 
 lashes. Perhaps it is not in his nature to weep,, or he 
 has sufficient strength to control his feelings. For 
 myself, I had never been so deeply, nor so painfully 
 moved. 
 
 “Towards morning the delirium ceased. For 
 nearly an hour she remained motionless. She was 
 pale as death, and so weak that one could hardly be 
 certain that she breathed. Then for a few moments 
 she was better, and she began to speak. You imagine 
 of what? Those thoughts only come to the dying. 
 She regretted that she was not a Christian, because 
 in the next world her soul would not be with that 
 of Petchorin, and that in heaven another would be 
 his companion. The idea came into my mind to 
 christen her before she closed her eyes. I proposed it 
 to her. She looked at me some time as if perplexed, 
 and without being able to utter a word. At length, she 
 replied that she would die in the faith of her fathers. 
 
BEL.A. 
 
 63 
 
 ‘‘ Oh, how she was changed already ! Her cheeks 
 were pale and hollow, her eyes seemed immeasurably 
 large, and her lips were parched. She complained of 
 an internal sensation of burning heat, as though a red- 
 hot iron had entered her breast. 
 
 “ The second night approached ; we did not take our 
 eyes off her. She suffered dreadfully, but she no 
 sooner felt the least relief than she tried to persuade 
 Petchorin she was better. She kissed his hand, which 
 she held constantly in her own. 
 
 Towards morning she began to feel that feverish 
 anguish which announces death. She tossed from side to 
 side, tore off her bandages, and the blood began to flow 
 afresh. When we had dressed her wounds anew, she be- 
 came calm for a moment, and asked Petchorin to kiss her. 
 
 He was kneeling by her bedside; he gently 
 raised the head of the young girl with the pillow, and 
 pressed his lips to her mouth, which was already cold. 
 With her trembling hands she clasped convulsively the 
 neck of her lover, as if to leave him her whole soul in 
 this last embrace. Look you! she could not have 
 done better than to die. Petchorin would have left 
 her sooner or later, and the stab of the poignard was the 
 better of the two. 
 
 “ All the morning of the next day she remained 
 silent, and docile as an angel, under the prescriptions 
 of the doctor, who spared neither fomentations nor 
 potions. ‘ For mercy’s sake,’ I said to him, ‘ what’s 
 the use of all these remedies ? Have you not declared 
 yourself that she cannot live ? ’ 
 
64 
 
 BELA. 
 
 4 
 
 “^No matter, Maximus Maximitcli ; we must do 
 our work conscientiously.’ 
 
 What think you of that, for a conscience ? 
 
 “ In the afternoon she complained of a burning 
 thirst. We opened the windows, but the air without 
 was more stifling than that of the room. We placed ice 
 near her bed ; nothing was of any use. I knew that 
 this thirst was the forerunner of death, and said so to 
 Petchorin. 
 
 “ ‘Water ! water !’ she cried, with a hoarse voice, 
 raising herself on her couch. 
 
 “ He turned pale as a sheet, filled her a glass, and 
 presented it to her. 
 
 “ For my part, I hid my face in my hands, that I 
 might not witness this spectacle ; and I recited, I know 
 not what prayer. Look you, now, I have often seen 
 people die in hospitals and on the field of battle — but 
 no ! — oh, no ! — it was nothing to be compared to this. 
 
 “And then, I must confess it, one thing was very 
 painful to me. In the face of death she never once 
 remembered me — I, who had loved her as a father ! If 
 she had only said to me, ‘ Adieu, my old Maximus Maxi- 
 mitch ! ’ I think I could have died with her. But, 
 heaven forgive her ! And indeed, what am 1, that she 
 should think of me in that solemn moment ? 
 
 “ After having drank, she felt relieved ; but in a 
 few moments she expired. 
 
 “We put a glass to her lips — there was not the 
 faintest breath. I led Petchorin from the room. We 
 walked for some time in the valley, side by side, without 
 
BELA. 
 
 65 
 
 speaking. His face did not betray any particular 
 emotion. I felt ashamed of him. In his place I should 
 have died of grief. 
 
 ‘‘ At length he sat down, and began to trace with 
 his cane I know not what kind of figures on the sand. 
 I thought the circumstance required some words of 
 consolation ; he raised his head and smiled. 
 
 This smile had upon me the effect of the sudden 
 touch of an icicle. I went away to order the coffin. 
 These last offices partially diverted me from my grief. 
 I took a melancholy pleasure in ornamenting her coffin 
 with all that I could find that was most precious, 
 
 “ The next morning, we buried her behind the fort, 
 not far from the river, and near the same spot where 
 she had rested herself for the last time. Around this 
 narrow tomb, clusters of acacias and elders have grown 
 up since. I had a great wish to erect a cross over it, 
 but I was deterred by the thought that she was not a 
 Christian,” 
 
 “ And Petchorin ? ” I inquired. 
 
 “ His health suffered, — he grew thin and pale ; but 
 I never spoke to him of Bela. I feared to annoy him. 
 What could I think ? Three months afterwards, he 
 entered another corps, and went to Georgia. Since 
 that time we have not seen each other, but I think I 
 heard some little while ago that he had returned to 
 Russia, but without being in active service. The fact 
 is, news of one’s friends reaches us here very seldom.” 
 
 Here the Captain entered into a long dissertation 
 to prove how disagreeable it was to wait a whole year 
 
66 
 
 BELA. 
 
 for the answer to a letter. I was not deceived by this. 
 I saw he sought to divert the course of bitter reflections 
 and remembrances. I did not interrupt him, and I 
 did not listen to him. An hour afterwards, all was 
 ready for our departure. The hurricane was calmed, 
 the sky was again serene ; and we set out. 
 
 On the road, I could not help returning to the 
 subject of Bela and Petchorin. 
 
 “ And have you learned nothing of Kazbitch ? ” I 
 asked. 
 
 “ No faith, nothing ! I have heard, though, that a 
 certain Kazbitch — a desperate sort of fellow — bothers 
 the left flank of our corps. He wears a red heschmeet^ 
 and dips under our bullets with wonderful adroitness, 
 whenever he hears them whiz. That may be him.’^ 
 
 At Kobi we parted. I took post-horses. The Cap- 
 tain could not follow me on account of his baggage. It 
 did not seem likely we should ever meet again ; but 
 we did meet. It lies with you to learn how. 
 
 Meanwhile, grant that his was at least a good and 
 estimable nature. 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 Afteh having parted from Maximus Maximitch, I 
 hastened to cross the ravines of the Terek and the 
 Darial. I had breakfasted at Kazbek, and taken tea at 
 Lars ; and arrived in time to dine at Vladikavkaz. I 
 will spare you the descriptions of the mountains — of 
 the echoes that repeat nothing — of the views which 
 present nought interesting, particularly for those who 
 do not know the country; and still more willingly do I 
 abstain from statistical details, for which no one cares. 
 I stopped at an inn, the usual halting-place with all 
 travellers, where it is impossible to obtain even a 
 pheasant, — nay, a mess of pottage, — because the three 
 invalids who keep it, are either too stupid, or too 
 drunken, to comprehend the most trifling request. 
 
 I was told that I should not be able to proceed any 
 further for three days, and that I must wait for an 
 ‘^occasion” to go to lekaterinograd. I had no other 
 resource in the meantime, except to write the anecdote 
 of Bela ; and this I did, without suspecting that it 
 would form the first link in a chain of romances. This 
 shows how the most trifling circumstances may be 
 productive of the most serious consequences. But I 
 
68 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 perceive I am forgetting to tell you what an “ occasion ’’ 
 is. It is, then, nothing more nor less than a detachment 
 of infantry with a single cannon, which escorts every 
 convoy going from Vladikavkaz to lekaterinograd. 
 
 I was wearied to death the first day. On the 
 morning of the second, I saw a chariot enter the inn- 
 yard. Maximus Maximitch ! We greeted each other 
 like old acquaintances, and I placed my room at his 
 disposal. He did not require the ofier to be made 
 twice ; he tapped me familiarly on the shoulder, ac- 
 companying this action with a grimace, that might have 
 passed for a smile. What an original ! Maximus 
 Maximitch was profoundly versed in the culinary art. 
 None knew better than he how to roast a pheasant, 
 or basted it better with brine of cucumber ; in short, I 
 feel it my duty to confess, that without him I should 
 have fared but badly. A bottle of generous wine 
 helped me to forget the simplicity of our bill of fare, 
 which consisted of one solitary dish. After having 
 smoked our pipes together, we sat down ; I near the 
 window, and he near the stove, for the weather was 
 cold and damp. We were silent. What had we 
 to say ? 
 
 He had already related to me what he knew 
 worthy of being told ; and for myself, I had not the 
 smallest anecdote wherewith to wile away an idle hour. 
 I looked out of the window. A multitude of small, low 
 houses, scattered over the banks of the Terek, which 
 widens as it flows onwards, were to be seen amid 
 clusters of trees ; beyond them rose the jagged ridges 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 69 
 
 of the mountains ; and again, behind these the Kazbek, 
 surmounted by its cardinal’s hat. I mentally bade 
 adieu to all these things, and in doing so experienced a 
 sentiment of regret. We remained sometime thus 
 engaged. The sun disappeared behind the snowy 
 crests ; a white mist was floating in the distance ; when 
 the sound of a little post-bell resounded through the 
 streets, mingling with the cries of the conductors. 
 Some chariots, accompanied by a troup of Armenians 
 of a more than usually neglected exterior, entered the 
 inn-yard, followed by a light and apparently empty 
 travelling carriage. The graceful appearance of this 
 equipage, and the careful workmanship displayed in 
 its construction, bore a decidedly foreign stamp. 
 Behind the carriage walked a man with moustachios, 
 habited in a Polish frock-coat, and rather superior- 
 looking for a servant. From the dexterity with which 
 he emptied a pipe, and the style in which he addressed 
 the conductor, it was easy to make a good guess as to 
 his condition in life. He was to all appearance the 
 spoiled valet of an indolent master ; in fact, a sort of 
 Russian Figaro. 
 
 “ My good fellow,” I said from the window, 
 “ what is that coming this way ; is it the ‘ occasion ’ ?” 
 
 He cast rather an impertinent look towards me, 
 and arranged his cravat. An Armenian who was 
 standing near him, smiled ; and answered in his stead, 
 that it was indeed the “occasion,” and that the convoy 
 would start the next morning. 
 
 “ Heaven be praised,” said Maximus Maximitch, 
 
70 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 / 
 
 who had just approached the window. “ What a 
 singular carriage ! ” he added. I dare say it’s some 
 great man going to Tiflis. He probably is not well 
 acquainted with our mountains. They’ll settle his 
 carriage for him. But who can he be ? Let’s 
 see ! ” 
 
 We went into the passage. Towards the further 
 end we saw an open door, and a valet and a coachman 
 carrying trunks and portmanteaus into the room. 
 
 “ I say, my good friend,” exclaimed the Captain to 
 the servant, to whom does this carriage belong ? 
 It’s a deuced nice one ! ” 
 
 The valet, without answering, muttered something 
 to himself, and went on with his w^ork. Maximus 
 Maximitch grew angry, and striking the ill-mannered 
 varlet on the shoulder, said to him : — 
 
 “I ask ” 
 
 Whose is that carriage ? ” interrupted the valet. 
 “ It is my master’s.” 
 
 “ And who is your master?” 
 
 “ Petchorin ! ” 
 
 “ How ! What do you say ? Petchorin ! Good 
 Heavens ! Has he not served in the Caucasus ? ’ ’ 
 
 Maximus Maximitch pulled me by the sleeve ; his 
 eyes sparkled wuth joy. 
 
 “ I believe so,” replied the valet. I have not 
 been long with him.” 
 
 “It must be him ! Gregory Alexandro witch — that’s 
 his name, is it not ? I have been very intimate 
 with your master,” continued he, tapping the valet’s 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 71 
 
 shoulder in a friendly manner, but sufficiently hard to 
 make him stagger. 
 
 “ Excuse me, sir ; but you prevent me from doing 
 something that is of importance,” grumbled out the man. 
 
 “ Oh ! indeed,” continued the Captain ; “ you don’t 
 know that your master was very intimate with me. 
 We lived together — but whereabouts is he ? ” 
 
 The servant informed him that his master had dined, 
 and intended to pass the night, with Colonel N— — . 
 
 “Won’t he come here this evening? — or, are you 
 not going to him ? In the latter case, do not forget to 
 tell him that Maximus Maximitch is here. That will 
 be sufficient. I will give you enough for a glass of 
 something to drink.” 
 
 The valet put on a disdainful look at the mention 
 of so poor a remuneration ; however, he promised to 
 deliver the message. 
 
 “ He is coming here ! ” said Maximus Maximitch, 
 in ecstacy, to me. “ I intend to wait for him at the 
 door. I am in despair at not knowing Colonel N .” 
 
 He seated himself on a bench before the door, and 
 I returned to my room. I confess that I felt curious 
 to see this Petchorin. Although the Captain’s story 
 had not given me a very favourable impression of him, 
 I yet thought there were some traits in his character 
 rather out of the common way. 
 
 In about an hour an invalid brought in the kettle 
 and a tea-pot. 
 
 “ Will you have some tea ? ” I called out to Maximus 
 Maximitch. 
 
72 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 ‘^No, thank you — I do not wish for any.” 
 
 And why ? If s late, and the air is cold.” 
 
 “ Thank you very much — but no.” 
 
 As you please.” 
 
 I took my tea alone. In about ten minutes the 
 Captain entered the room. 
 
 “ You are right,” said he ; “ it will be better to take 
 something warm. I was expecting — the servant has been 
 gone some time — something must have detained him.” 
 
 He drank off one cup of tea, refused to take a 
 second, and returned to watch, in the greatest agitation 
 imaginable. 
 
 Petchorin’s indifference evidently vexed him, and 
 the more so that he had spoken to me of their intimacy. 
 An hour before, he had felt certain that if Petchorin 
 had known he was there he would have hastened to 
 meet him. 
 
 It was late, and very dark ; I opened the window 
 and called out to Maximus Maximitch that it was time 
 to retire to rest. I heard him mutter something be- 
 tween his teeth. I renewed my invitation, but could 
 obtain no answer. 
 
 I stretched myself on the divan, and threw my cloak 
 over me. I left a lighted candle on the lejanka^ and 
 soon fell asleep. I think I should have passed a very 
 comfortable night, if I had not been disturbed at a late 
 hour by Maximus Maximitch. He thr^w his pipe upon 
 the table, walked up and down the room, looked at the 
 fire, and ended by getting into bed. For a considerable 
 time I heard him coughing and tossing about. 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCF. 
 
 73 
 
 “ Are you troubled with fleas in your bed ? ” I 
 asked. 
 
 ‘‘ Ah, indeed,’’ he replied, and sighed deeply. 
 
 The next morning I arose early, but Maximus 
 Maximitch was beforehand with me. He was already 
 seated on his bench at the door. 
 
 “T must go to the Commandant,” said he; ‘Hf 
 Petchorin should happen to come, pray send for me.” 
 
 I promised him this, and he strode ofi*. He seemed 
 to have recovered all the vigour and agility of his 
 younger days. 
 
 It was a fresh and brilliant morning ; golden clouds 
 floated over the mountains, forming as it were an aerial 
 chain. In front of our door was a spacious square. It 
 was Sunday, and the bazaar was crowded with people : 
 young barefooted Ossetes, carrying on their shoulders 
 baskets filled with honey in the comb, kept running 
 round and round after their customers. But this view 
 had no longer any interest for me ; I was beginning to 
 share the impatience of the Captain. 
 
 Ten minutes had scarcely passed when I saw the 
 individual we were waiting for, at the other end of the 
 square. He was with Colonel N , who after accom- 
 
 panying him to the inn door, bade him farewell, and 
 re-entered the fort. I sent ofi* immediately for Maxi- 
 mus Maximitch. Petchorin’ s valet hastened to meet 
 his master, and informed him that the carriage was 
 nearly ready ; he then handed him a box of cigars, 
 and set about preparing for their departure wdth con- 
 siderable zeal. 
 
 F 
 
74 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 Petchorin smoked a cigar, yawned twice, and sat 
 down on tlie other side of the doorway. This is the 
 best time to sketch his portrait. 
 
 He was of a middling height, graceful, and perfectly 
 proportioned ; his broad chest indicated a vigorous 
 constitution, capable of withstanding the effects of a 
 wandering life, and the changes of climate, as well as 
 the dissipation of a capital, or the excesses of the pas- 
 sions ; his greatcoat of light gray buttoned only at the 
 waist, and allowed one to contemplate linen of dazzling 
 whiteness. His closely-fitting gloves seemed to have 
 been made upon the model of his aristocratic hands; and 
 when he removed one of them, I was struck with the 
 exquisite delicacy of his fingers. His step displayed an 
 air of careless indolence ; but I remarked that he walked 
 without swinging his arms, a certain indication of a re- 
 served disposition. These remarks, however, are to be 
 taken merely as the result of my own impressions. I 
 have no desire to pass them off as infallible. When 
 he seated himself on the bench, his upright figure bent 
 as though it were boneless ; his attitude indicated a 
 species of nervous debility. He reclined there like a 
 coquette of thirty upon a down cushion, after the 
 fatigues of a ball. At first sight, I should not have 
 pronounced him more than three-and- twenty ; but on a 
 closer examination, I would have gone as far as thirty. 
 His smile had a childlike expression, and his complexion 
 was delicate as a woman’s. His fair hair curled natur- 
 ally, gracefully shading a noble and pale forehead, on 
 which scarcely the faintest network of wrinkles could 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 iO 
 
 be traced ; these, however, probably deepened when he 
 was excited by anger or any other passion. Although 
 his hair was very light, his moustachios and eye-brows 
 were dark ; this is a sign of good breed in men, as is 
 a dark mane and tail in a white horse. To complete 
 his picture, I will add, that his nose was inclined to turn 
 upwards, and that his teeth were irreproachably white. 
 As to his eyes, they require a little further description. 
 In the first place, when his mouth smiled, his eyes ex“ 
 pressed no sympathetic accompaniment. Have you 
 never remarked this peculiarity in certain individuals ? 
 It is the sign either of a perverse nature, or of some 
 deep and incurable sorrow. They shone with a phos- 
 phorescent light, as it were, from beneath their half- 
 closed lids. This expression was neither the reflection 
 of inward warmth, nor that of an excited imagination ; 
 it was the brightness of polished steel — vivacity with- 
 out ardour. 1 His glance, which was wandering, was 
 nevertheless grave and penetrating, producing the effect 
 of an indiscreet question ; it would have been positively 
 importunate, had it not likewise expressed tranquillity 
 and indifierence. Perhaps the above remarks have only 
 suggested themselves to me, because I knew something 
 of his life ; and it is possible that he might have pro- 
 duced a totally different impression on any other person. 
 But as the reader will never hear of my hero, except 
 through me, his best plan will be to make up his mind 
 to see with my eyes. I must say, however, that, take 
 
 1 The eye of a Jesuit. — T uans. 
 
 r 2 
 
76 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 him all in all, he was an agreeable man, with one 
 of those faces which generally please, especially 
 women. 
 
 The horses were already to ; the^little bell suspended 
 to the yoke had rung more than once. Twice had 
 the servant announced to Petchorin that all was ready, 
 and Maximus Maximitch was not yet in sight. For- 
 tunately, Petchorin was plunged in one of his reveries. 
 He was contemplating the jagged summits of the 
 Caucasus, and appeared in no hurry to set out. I ap- 
 proached him ; “ If you will wait a few moments,” I 
 said, “ you will have the pleasure of seeing an old 
 friend.” 
 
 ‘^Ah, true!” he replied quickly, ‘‘they told me 
 that yesterday — but, where is he ? ” 
 
 I cast a look round the square, and saw Maximus 
 Maximitch running towards us with all his might. A 
 few minutes and he had joined us, quite out of breath ; 
 the perspiration dropping from his forehead, the moist- 
 ened locks of his gray hair escaping from beneath his 
 chapha and sticking to his face ; his knees trembled. 
 He was going to throw himself upon Petchorin’ s 
 neck, but the latter with an air of coldness, softened, 
 however, by an affable smile, held out his hand. The 
 Captain stood motionless, but soon clasped Petchorin’ s 
 hand with both his own, without being able to utter a 
 word. 
 
 “ How delighted I am to see you, my dear Maximus 
 Maximitch ! how are you ? ” 
 
 ‘‘And thou — and you?” faltered the old officer. 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 77 
 
 ‘‘ How many years — how many days ! but where are 
 you going ? ” 
 
 “ To Persia— and further still.” 
 
 What, directly It is so long since we have seen 
 each other ! ” 
 
 ‘‘ I am pressed for time, Maximus Maximitch.” 
 
 “ Gracious heavens ! but why such haste ? I have 
 so many things to tell you — so many things to ask you. 
 Have you retired from the service ? ” 
 
 “ I got sick of it ! ” replied Petchorin, smiling. 
 
 “ Do you remember our life in the fort ? What a 
 country that was for hunting ; you were terribly fond 
 of it ! and Bela ! — ” 
 
 A slight paleness spread itself over Petchorin’s 
 features — he turned away his head. 
 
 “ I remember all that,” he said, with a forced yawn. 
 
 Maximus Maximitch begged of him to delay his 
 departure for two hours. 
 
 “We shall have an excellent dinner,” said he. “I 
 have got two pheasants, and one can get capital wine 
 here of Cakhetia — not, it is true, equal to that of Georgia, 
 but nevertheless of irreproachable quality. We will 
 chat together — you will tell me what you have been 
 doing in St. Petersburg ! ” 
 
 “ But I have nothing in the least interesting to tell 
 you, my dear Maximus Maximitch — therefore, good- 
 bye. I am in a hurry. I thank you for not having 
 forgotten me,” added he, taking the Captain^ s hand. 
 
 The old officer knit his brows ; he sought in vain to 
 hide his displeasure. 
 
MAXIMUS MAXI MITCH. 
 
 “ Forgotten ! ’’ replied be. “ I — ob, no — I bave for- 
 gotten nothing ! After all, God bless you ! I scarcely 
 expected sucb a reception.” 
 
 ‘‘ Come, come ! ” said Petcborin, pressing him 
 amicably in bis arms ; “ am I not always tbe same r 
 Wbat would you have? Every one must pursue bis 
 own way. Heaven knows whether we shall ever meet 
 again.” 
 
 As he said these words, he seated himself in the 
 carriage, and already the coachman had seized the 
 reins. 
 
 Stop ! Stop ! ” cried Maximus Maximitch, laying 
 hold of the door. I forgot : I bave some papers, 
 Gregory Alexandrowitcb ; I carry them about with 
 me everywhere. I bad hoped to join you in Georgia, 
 and Heaven decided that it should be here. What shall 
 I do with them ? ” 
 
 Anything you like,” replied Petcborin. Adieu ! ” 
 
 So you are going to Persia. Will it be for long ?” 
 
 The carriage was already on its way, and Petcho- 
 rin only answered by a wave of the hand, which could 
 have been thus interpreted : “You are angry — you 
 have really no cause ! ” 
 
 Tbe noise of tbe wheels, and tbe tinkle of tbe 
 post-bell, had long ceased to be heard ; yet the poor 
 Captain still sto6d motionless, and absorbed in medi- 
 tation. 
 
 “ And yet,” said he at length, trying to look in- 
 different, although more than one tear moistened his 
 eyelids, “ we once were friends I But what is friend- 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 79 
 
 ship now ? What interest can he take in aught that 
 concerns me ? I am neither rich enough, nor of suffi- 
 ciently high rank : besides, our ages do not suit. His 
 second residence in the capital has made a coxcomb of 
 him. What a calash ! What a quantity of baggage ! 
 and his valet — what an impertinent fellow!” He 
 accompanied these last remarks by a smile of irony. 
 
 “ By the way, what do you think of him r ” said 
 he, turning towards me. “ What do you say to that 
 whim of going to Persia ? It’s absurd, upon my word ; 
 most absurd ! However, it is not merely from to-day 
 that I have learned to think him a hair-brained fellow, 
 on whom one could not depend. Yet I see with pain 
 that he will turn out badly ; there’s no doubt about it. 
 I have always thought that the man who can forget old 
 friends, can have nothing solid in him — no sterling 
 worth.” 
 
 With these words, he turned away to hide his 
 emotion ; and hastening to his carriage, pretended to 
 examine the wheels, although his eyes were filled with 
 tears. 
 
 “ Maximus Maximitch,” said I, advancing towards 
 him, “ what are those papers that Petchorin left 
 you ? ” 
 
 “ God knows ! probably a journal — some memoirs.” 
 “ And what do you intend doing with them ? ” 
 
 “ Turning them into cartridges.” 
 
 “You had better give them to me.” 
 
 He looked at me with some surprise, muttered some- 
 thing between his teeth, and began to rummage in a 
 
80 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 portmanteau. He drew out a manuscript book, which 
 he threw down with a look of contempt ; a second — 
 a third — a tenth — had the same fate. There was some- 
 thing so childish in his anger, that although I pitied 
 him, I could not refrain from laughing. 
 
 ^‘That’s all,’’ he said ; “ I congratulate you upon 
 your good luck.” 
 
 “ And you permit me to dispose of them as I 
 like?” 
 
 ‘‘ Even to publish them in the newspapers ! What 
 is it to me ? Am I his friend — his relation ? It is true 
 that we lived a long time together under the same 
 roof ; but after all, I have lived with many others !” 
 
 I hastened to take possession of the papers, and 
 carried them off at once, for fear that the Captain might 
 change his mind. Just then it was announced to us 
 that the convoy would start in an hour. I ordered my 
 carriage to be got in readiness. The Captain entered 
 the room just as I was putting on my chapka. He did 
 not appear prepared to set out, and there was a cold- 
 ness of manner about him which was unusual. 
 
 “ Do you not come with me, my good Maximus 
 Maximitch ? ” 
 
 ‘‘No!” 
 
 Why not ? ” 
 
 ‘‘ I have not yet seen the Commandant, and I have 
 some government papers to deliver to him.” 
 
 “ But you have been to him .” 
 
 “ I know, but be was out; and I did not like to 
 wait.” 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 81 
 
 I comprehended all ; the honest man had — for the 
 first time in his life, perhaps — sacrificed official duty to 
 a personal consideration. And how had he been re- 
 warded ? 
 
 “ I very much regret, Maximus Maximitch, that we 
 are obliged to part.’^ 
 
 ‘‘ Pshaw ! it does not do for old men like myself, 
 who are not up to the mark in the ideas of modern 
 times, to herd with you and your set. The young men 
 of the present day are worldly-minded, and too proud. 
 It all goes on pretty well, as long as you are among the 
 bullets of the mountaineers ; but afterwards, when you 
 return, iPs as much as ever you will condescend to, 
 to give one a shake of the hand.” 
 
 “ Maximus Maximitch, I have done nothing to 
 deserve this reproach.” 
 
 “It is only to explain to you . However, I 
 
 wish you every happiness, and an agreeable journey.” 
 
 We parted rather coldly. The excellent Maximus 
 Maximitch became the most obstinate and least-ac- 
 commodating of captains ; and all because Petchorin, 
 through absence of mind, or no matter what other 
 motive, had contented himself with putting out his 
 hand, when the other wanted to throw his arms round 
 his friend’s neck. It is distressing to see a young man 
 renounce his dearest hopes, his most cherished illu- 
 sions, when he sees shivered before him, the prism 
 that showed him, in such an attractive light, the actions 
 and sentiments of mankind ; but he has the power to 
 repair his errors, and to enjoy new deceptions. But at 
 
82 
 
 MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 the age of Maximus Maximitch, what has one left? 
 However large the heart, it hardens at last, and the 
 soul becomes insensible. 
 
 I set out alone. 
 
 I have learned not long since, that Petchorin died 
 on his return from Persia. I confess that this infor- 
 mation, which leaves me at liberty to publish his 
 manuscripts, caused me a selfish satisfaction. I have 
 profited by this opportunity to attach my name to a 
 stranger’s production. Heaven grant that my readers 
 may not treat me too severely for a fault which is too 
 common to deserve very serious reproaches. 
 
 There still remains due some explanation as to the 
 motives that have induced me to reveal to the public 
 gaze, the private sentiments of a man who was a 
 stranger to me. It would be of no moment had I been 
 his friend ; the liberties assumed by pretended friend- 
 ship are but too well known. But I never chanced to 
 see him but once, and that was on the high road; 
 therefore, I cannot be suspected of having cherished 
 against him that smothered hatred, which, under the 
 mask of kindness, waits but for the death or the mis- 
 fortunes of a friend to load him with reproaches, 
 counsels, sarcasms, or pity. 
 
 By reading these memoirs attentively, I convinced 
 myself of the sincerity of the man, who exposed with 
 so little reserve his own follies and his own vices. The 
 history of a human heart, even though that heart were 
 
MAXIMUS MAXIMITCH. 
 
 83 
 
 but of the most ordinary stuff, is more interesting, and 
 more useful, than the history of a people ; particularly 
 when it is drawn up by a matured understanding, that 
 has dived deeply and conscientiously into the mysteries 
 of its own nature, and is written without any view 
 to excite interest or admiration. One of Rousseau’s 
 greatest errors, was the reading of his “ Confessions ” 
 to his friends. 
 
 For myself, in publishing some extracts from this 
 journal, I have no intention but that of being useful. 
 Although I have been careful to change all proper 
 namies, it is probable that the personages may re- 
 cognize themselves ; and perhaps they may be indulgent 
 for the faults of a man who has nothing more to do 
 with this world, and whom they have judged tiM now 
 with some degree of severity. We almost always 
 excuse what we can thoroughly understand. 
 
 I have limited myself to borrowing from Petcho- 
 rin’s memoirs, only what relates to his sojourn in the 
 Caucasus. I have, besides, in my possession a thick 
 book, in which he has written the history of his whole 
 life. I intend some day to publish it ; for the present 
 moment, powerful motives deter me from taking this 
 step. 
 
 Some of my readers will perhaps be curious to 
 know what I think of the character of Petchorin ; the 
 title of this work is my reply. But, it will be said, 
 this is ii’ony. Who can tell ? 
 
TAMAN. 
 
 Or all the maritime towns of Russia, Taman is decid- 
 edly the most disagreeable. I had a narrow escape 
 of dying of hunger in that nest of hovels ; and what, is 
 if possible worse, I was within an inch of being 
 drowned there. I arrived there late. The conductor 
 pulled up the three horses of my telega in the court of 
 an isolated house, the only stone one in the place, and 
 which stands just at the entrance of the town. The sen- 
 try, a Cossack of the Black Sea, hearing the little bell of 
 my carriage, called out in a loud voice, which betrayed 
 his recent indulgence in a nap, “ Who goes there ? ’’ 
 
 The inspector and a serjeant came out. 
 
 I explained to these gentlemen that I was an 
 officer; and that, being employed on active crown 
 service, I had a right to a lodging. The serjeant led us 
 all over the town. Every house at which we stopped, 
 we were told was full. The weather w’^as cold ; I had 
 not closed my eyes for three nights, and fatigue had 
 put me out of temper. 
 
 “ Lead me somewhere,’’ I said to him ; ‘‘ even if 
 
TAMAN. 
 
 85 
 
 it be to the devil, provided I can but find a lodging — a 
 shelter.” 
 
 There is a hut,” he replied, scratching his ear ; 
 “ only I don’t think it will suit your grace on account 
 of the dirt.” Without analysing this piece of infor- 
 mation, I ordered him to lead me thither. After 
 passing through several muddy alleys, divided by miser- 
 able enclosures, we arrived at the hut in question, 
 situated on the sea-shore. 
 
 The full moon was shining on the thatched roof 
 and white walls of my new dwelling. In the yard, 
 which was enclosed by a fiint wall, was a second hut, 
 still smaller and more dilapidated than the other. The 
 shore descended abruptly to the sea, which washed the 
 lower part of this wretched habitation, whence one 
 heard but too distinctly the eternal moaning of the 
 waves. 
 
 The moon looked down peacefully on the agitated, but 
 to her submissive, element ; and by her rays I distin- 
 guished in the distance two vessels, whose dark rigging 
 traced itself like a vast cobweb against the pale blue 
 sky. There are vessels in the harbour, I thought to 
 myself ; to-morrow I shall be able to set off for 
 Ghelentchik. 
 
 A Cossack of the line performed for me the func- 
 tions of a valet. I ordered him to take down my port- 
 manteau, and to send away the coachman. I then 
 set about calling the master of the hut — no answer. 
 I knocked — still no answer. At length, I saw coming 
 towards the door a boy of about fourteen. 
 
86 
 
 TAMAN. 
 
 Where’s the master? ” 
 
 There is none ! ” 
 
 “ What ! no master ? ” 
 
 ‘^No.” 
 
 “ And the mistress ? ” 
 
 She is gone to the village.” 
 
 Who, then, will open the door? ” said I, kicking 
 against it with my foot. 
 
 The door opened of itself, and a sensation of damp- 
 ness almost startled me. I lighted a lucifer match, 
 and held it beneath the boy’s nose. This light showed 
 me two eyes entirely white. He was blind! totally 
 blind from his birth. He stood upright and motion- 
 less before me, and I set about examining his features. 
 
 I confess that I have an intense physical dislike to 
 the blind, the squint-eyed, the deaf, the dumb, the 
 maimed, the halt, the hump-backed, etc. I have 
 always remarked a connection between the exterior of 
 an individual and his inward soul, as if the moral na- 
 ture were affected by any physical imperfection, and 
 were incomplete in relative proportion. 
 
 I examined, then, the face of the blind youth ; but 
 what can one read in features where the sight is 
 wanting ? I considered him for some time with a sen- 
 sation of pity ; when suddenly, an almost imperceptible 
 smile moved his thin lips, and produced in me, I know 
 not why, a kind of feeling of annoyance. I conceived 
 the idea that the pretended blind youth could see. It 
 was in vain I repeated to myself that none could simu- 
 late the outward signs of blindness ; and besides, what 
 
THE TKINCESS MARY. 
 
 Jol 
 
 single word. In the evening she was thoughtful — this 
 morning, at the spring, more thoughtful still. At the 
 moment I accosted her she was listening, with an 
 absent air, to Grouchnitzky, who was exerting himself 
 in making up phrases about the beauties of nature. 
 She had no sooner perceived me than she was seized 
 with a fit of laughter, all the time pretending not to be 
 aware that I was present. This was seriously im- 
 prudent. I went away to observe them from a distance 
 and unseen : I saw her twice turn away and yawn. 
 Decidedly Grouchnitzky loves her. In two days more 
 she will not even speak to him. 
 
 June 13. — I often ask myself why I so obstinately 
 endeavour to win the love of a young girl that I do not 
 mean to seduce, and will never marry. Why this 
 womanish coquetry ? Vera loves me better than ever 
 Mary will. If I fancied it were almost impossible to 
 triumph over her coldness or her virtue, the difficulty 
 might stimulate my self-love. 
 
 But it is nothing of the sort. It is not, as may 
 well be believed, that wild wish to love, which is our 
 torment in our earlier years, which makes us fiy from 
 one woman to another until we find one who cannot 
 bear us ; from that moment dates our constancy — our 
 passion is true, infinite, like a mathematical line 
 which departs from a point and plunges into space. 
 The secret of this infinitude consists in the impossibility 
 of arriving at a goal, — that is to say, at an end. 
 
 Wherefore, then, do I give myself all this trouble ? 
 
152 
 
 THE PKINCESS MARY. 
 
 Is it from hatred towards Grouchnitzky. The poor 
 fellow is not worth noticing. It is a consequence of 
 that bad, but invincible, sentiment that induces us to 
 blight the dearest illusions of our neighbour, to have 
 the satisfaction of saying to him, when he shall ask us, 
 in accents of despair, in what he may henceforth trust, 
 
 “ My dear friend, that has happened to me as well 
 as to you; and yet, you see, I dine, sup, and sleep in 
 the most comfortable way possible. I can die without 
 fear, and without shedding a tear.” 
 
 But there is an incomparable charm in reigning 
 over a heart that is yet new to the world ! It is like a 
 a flower, of which the sweetest perfume awaits but the 
 first ray of sunlight to exhale itself. At that moment 
 it must be gathered ; and then, after one has feasted to 
 satiety on its sweet emanations, it may be thrown aside 
 on the highway, for the first passer-by to pick up. 
 
 I feel within me that insatiable thirst which covets 
 all that presents itself before me. I see the joy, the 
 sufiering of others, only as they can be brought to bear 
 upon myself, and as an aliment which nourishes the 
 strength of my soul. For myself, beneath the empire 
 of the passions, I am less likely to err than another. 
 My ambition has been restrained, as it were, by cir- 
 cumstances, but it has manifested itself in another 
 manner ; for ambition is but the thirst of command, and 
 my greatest joy is to see all that surrounds me bend to 
 my will — to be myself an object of devoted affection, 
 love, and fear. Is that not the first proof, and, at the 
 same time, the greatest triumph, of dominion ? And is 
 
THE PKINCESS MARY. 
 
 153 
 
 happiness aught but the satisfaction of pride ? If I 
 thought myself better or more powerful than the rest 
 of mankind, I should esteem myself happy ; if every one 
 loved me, I should find within me an inexhaustible 
 source of love. Evil engenders evil — the first grief 
 gives the idea of the pleasure one feels in torturing 
 one’s fellow-creature ; the idea of evil cannot enter the 
 mind of man, without awakening, at the same time, 
 the desire of doing evil. Ideas, as some moralist 
 has said, are but organic conditions ; they take form 
 at their birth, and this form is an act. He who has 
 most ideas acts most ; that is why a genius, chained to 
 administrative occupations, w^ould die or go mad. The 
 same as a man endowed with a vigorous organisation, 
 condemned to a sedentary life, and who eats and drinks 
 to excess, would be carried off by a fit of apoplexy. 
 
 The passions are only ideas in their first stage of 
 development. They are an attribute of the youthful 
 heart. He who believes in their indefinite empire is 
 grossly deceived! How many peaceful rivers take 
 their source from roaring cataracts ? There is not one 
 which holds on an impetuous and turbulent course until 
 it reaches the sea. But this calm is often the indi- 
 cation of gigantic, although hidden powers. The 
 fulness and depth of thought and feeling admit no wild 
 and passionate outbreak; the soul, in grief as in joy, 
 reckons severely with itself, and acknowledges that it 
 should be thus ; it knows that, without storms, the 
 burning power of the sun would sooner or later parch 
 up its existence : it examines the phases of its being ; 
 
 K 
 
154 
 
 THE PEINCESS MAEY. 
 
 applauds or upbraids itself with the feeling of a parent. 
 It is only when man has arrived at the perfect knowledge 
 of himself, that he can appreciate the justice of his 
 God. In glancing over these latter pages, I see that I 
 have wandered far from my subject. What matters it? 
 I write these memoirs for myself alone. All that I 
 may happen to note down in them, will recall to me at 
 some future period an interesting remembrance. 
 
 Grouchnitzky came to see me, and threw his arms 
 round my neck. He had just been made an officer. We 
 drank some champagne together. A little while after, 
 Dr. Werner came in. 
 
 “Permit me not to congratulate you!” be said to 
 Grouchnitzky. 
 
 “ And why?” 
 
 “ Because the soldier’s coat suited you to perfection ; 
 and you will admit that an officer’s uniform, made up 
 here, cannot give you a very interesting appearance. 
 Till now, you see, you were an exception ; at present, 
 you are like every one else.” 
 
 “ Say what you will. Doctor, that does not prevent 
 me from having excellent reasons for being de- 
 lighted.” 
 
 “ He does not know,” he whispered to me, “ what 
 hopes these epaulettes hold out to me. Oh 1 epaulettes ! 
 dear epaulettes ! your stars shall guide my steps. Oh ! 
 this is the acme of happiness.” 
 
 “Will you come and take a turn with us as far as 
 the hollow ? ” I asked. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 155 
 
 “ I ! Not for the world would I appear before her 
 till I have my uniform.’’ 
 
 “ Shall we tell her 
 
 “ No, I entreat of you. I wish to give her an agree- 
 able surprise.” 
 
 “ By the way, how do you get on with her ?” 
 
 He looked confused, and became thoughtful : he 
 had a great mind to boast a little, and tell us something 
 of a falsehood ; and, at the same time, his conscience 
 upbraided him. Then, on the other hand, he could 
 hardly make up his mind to own the truth. 
 
 “ Do you believe she loves you ?” 
 
 “ That she loves pie ? but what are you thinking of, 
 Petchorin ? She scarcely knows me ; and, besides, if 
 she did love me, do you suppose she would tell me so ? ” 
 “ Very well ! and, according to you idea, a well- 
 bred man ought to keep his passion equally secret r ” 
 
 “ But, my dear fellow, there is a manner — there are 
 many things that one can make people guess without 
 telling them of.” 
 
 “ That is true ; but the love which is only expressed 
 in looks, does not bind a woman like that which speaks. 
 Beware, Grouchnitzky ! she is deceiving you.” 
 
 He replied, raising his eyes to heaven with a smile 
 of satisfaction, ‘‘ I pity you^ Petchorin ! ” 
 
 He went away. 
 
 In the evening there were a great many people 
 walking in the ravine. The learned and scientific of 
 the place say that this hollow is but a worn-out crater. 
 It is situated on the slope of Match ouk, about a verst 
 
 e: 2 
 
156 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 from the town. One gets to it by a narrow path 
 through rocks and bushes. I gave my arm to Mary to 
 lead her up the mountain, and during the whole walk 
 I remained her companion. 
 
 Scandal was the first subject we touched upon. I 
 amused myself at the expense of the present and the 
 absent, beginning by ridicule, and passing on to more 
 serious reproaches. My bile overflowed. At first I 
 had only been unjust, but I soon became more bitter. 
 She had begun by laughing — she ended by being 
 frightened. 
 
 “You are a dangerous person ! ’’ said she. “ I think 
 I would as soon expose myself to the murderer’s knife, 
 as to the wounds of your sarcasms. Seriously, when 
 you feel inclined to speak ill of me, kill me rather. I 
 believe it would cost you little.” 
 
 “ Do I look like an assassin ?” 
 
 “You are worse ; far worse.” 
 
 After a few moments’ silence, I said to her in a 
 tone of deep emotion, 
 
 “ Yes ; this has been my fate since childhood ! 
 Every one has thought they read in my countenance the 
 signs of perverse and bad feelings ; they imputed to me 
 gratuitously things the most false ; and those imputed 
 sentiments have ended by becoming mine. I was 
 timid — they said I Avas a hypocrite, — I became myste- 
 rious. I felt deeply good as well as evil — no one en- 
 couraged me ; they endeavoured assiduously to rend and 
 aggravate me, — I became spiteful. I was gloomy in 
 the midst of gay, idle children — I felt that I was above 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 157 
 
 them, and they were placed above me, — I learned to 
 hate. I was of a loving nature — no one understood me, — 
 hate became the constant occupant of my heart. My 
 joyless youth has been but one unceasing struggle with 
 the world and with myself. I have repressed every good 
 sentiment of my heart, and they are extinguished 
 within it. I was sincere — none believed me, — I made 
 myself an adept at dissimulation. When I came to 
 know the world, and the moving springs of society, the 
 study of life disgusted me ; I saw the ignorant succeed, 
 and reap all the advantages that I had pursued with so 
 much perseverance. Then I became the prey of de- 
 spondency — not of that despondency of which one cures 
 one’s self by a bullet — but that carelessness of all; 
 a nerveless sentiment, which masks itself beneath the 
 smile of good humour. Being now thus incomplete, in a 
 moral point of view, I felt that a portion of the faculties 
 of my soul were scared and blighted. I discarded them 
 from my nature ; that which survived was good and 
 serviceable ; but no one thought so, ignoring, as they 
 did, that I had repudiated the best half of myself, — 
 that half of which you have just reminded me, and 
 of which I have read you the epitaph. In general, 
 people laugh at epitaphs ; I do not see them in the 
 same light. I consider less what they are, than what 
 they cover. However, I do not ask you to be of my 
 opinion. If this long-drawn speech has appeared to you 
 ridiculous, laugh at it without restraint. I assure you I 
 shall not be in the least degree offended.” 
 
 At this moment my glance met her’s ; tears sparkled 
 
15S 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 in her eyes ; her arm, which leaned on mine, trembled ; 
 a bright blush coloured her cheeks : she pitied me. 
 Pity, that sentiment to which women yield so will- 
 ingly, had taken possession of her inexperienced breast. 
 During the rest of the walk she was absent, and forgot 
 even her natural coquetry. That was a significant 
 symptom. We arrived at the hollow ; the ladies left 
 their cavaliers, but she continued to lean on my arm. 
 She heeded not the witticisms of our dandies. She 
 walked on the very edge of the steep bank without the 
 least fear, while the other ladies were screaming out 
 and veiling their eyes. 
 
 On our return, I did not resume the previous con- 
 versation ; still, to all my liveliest remarks, she replied 
 curtly, and with an absent air. 
 
 “ Have you ever loved ?” I asked her at length. 
 
 She looked at me attentively, shook her head, and 
 sunk back into her meditations. She evidently wished 
 to say something, but she did not know how to begin. 
 The hurried rise and fail of her bosom betrayed her 
 agitation. How could it be otherwise ? — a muslin 
 sleeve is a powerless protector, and an electric spark 
 had passed from my arm through her’s. Nearly all 
 passions are thus begun; and we deceive ourselves 
 signally if we imagine that a woman loves us for our 
 merit or our physical advantages. Without doubt, these 
 things prepare a favourable reception for the sacred 
 fire, but it is the first touch that decides all. 
 
 “ Have I not been very agreeable to-day?” she asked. 
 
 The walk now ended ; we separated. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 159 
 
 She is displeased with herself — she accuses herself, 
 without doubt, of coldness. Decidedly it’s a conquest ! 
 To-morrow she will wish to make compensation. I 
 know it all beforehand, and that’s the bother of it. 
 
 June 12. — To-day I saw Vera; she persecuted me 
 with her jealousy. It seems that the little Princess 
 has taken it into her head to make Vera her confidant. 
 It must be owned the choice is judicious. 
 
 “ I foresee how all this will end ! ” said Vera, 
 “ Allow that you love her.” 
 
 “ And if I do not ?” 
 
 “ Then why these assiduous attentions ? Why 
 excite her imagination ? I know you. If you wish 
 me to believe you, go for a week to Kislovodsk. We pro- 
 ceed there the day after to-morrow. The Princess will 
 not be there just yet. Hire an apartment near where we 
 live. We shall have a large house close to the spring ; 
 and next door there is one belonging to the same land- 
 lord, and which is not yet let. The Princess Ligovsky 
 has taken the ground-floor of our’s. Will you come ?” 
 
 I promised ; and, that I might not retract my word, 
 I hired at once the lodging in question. 
 
 Grouchnitzky came at six in the evening, to commu- 
 nicate to me the important news that his uniform would 
 be ready for him the next day, just in time for the ball. 
 
 At length I shall be able to dance with her the 
 whole evening — to speak to her as I will.” 
 
 “ And when is this ball ? ” 
 
 “ To-morrow. What ? did you not know it ? It 
 
160 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 will be very brilliant ; tbe authorities are to superintend 
 everything.” 
 
 Come and take a turn on the ramparts.” 
 
 “Not for the world, in this hateful capote.” 
 
 “ What ! has it fallen into disgrace ? ” 
 
 I went out alone, and met the Princess Mary. I 
 engaged her for a mazurka. She appeared surprised 
 and delighted. 
 
 “You will have to-morrow an agreeable surprise ! ” 
 said I. 
 
 “ How ?” 
 
 “ It is a secret that the ball will reveal.” 
 
 “ I thought you only danced for politeness’ sake the 
 last time !” replied she with the sweetest of smiles. 
 
 She did not appear to think about the absence of 
 Grouchnitzky. 
 
 I spent the rest of the evening at the Princess’s. 
 There was no one there except Vera, and a most 
 amusing old man I was in a good vein ; I improvised 
 several very startling anecdotes. The Princess Mary 
 listened to my nonsense with so much attention and good 
 faith, that I felt a sentiment almost resembling shame. 
 What has she done with her vivacity, her coquetry, 
 her caprices, her little disdainful airs ? Nothing of all 
 this escapes Vera. Her pale face has an expression of 
 sorrow. She was seated in the recess of a window, 
 buried in the depths of an arm-chair. I pitied her. 
 
 I began, then, the dramatic recital of my own 
 adventure with Vera, — changing the names, of course. 
 
 I spoke with such earnestness of my tenderness. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 161 
 
 my torments, the transports of our love ; I placed her 
 character in such a favourable light, that she could not 
 but forgive my attentions to Mary. 
 
 She rose, came and seated herself near us, and seemed 
 to revive. We did not separate till two in the morning ; 
 forgetting that, according to the rules for health, one 
 ought not to sit up after eleven. 
 
 June 13. — Half an hour before the ball, Grouch- 
 nitzkj" treated me with a visit, equipped in all the 
 splendours of his new uniform. To the third button 
 was attached a bronze chain, from which hung a double 
 eye-glass ; his epaulettes, of an immeasurable size, rose 
 on his shoulders like two cupid’s wings ; his boots 
 creaked ; in his left hand he held his gloves of cinnamon 
 colour, and his cap, while with the right he kept divid- 
 ing his newly-arranged curls. Self-satisfaction, and at 
 the same time a sort of mistrust of his own appearance, 
 were visible on his countenance. His Sunday-looking 
 turn out, the proud way in which he strutted about, would 
 have made me laugh under any other circumstances. 
 
 He threw his gloves and his cap on the table, and 
 began to smooth down the skirts of his uniform- coat, 
 admiring himself in the glass. A voluminous black 
 cravat, which covered an enormously high false- collar, 
 tightened in his chin, and stood above the collar of his 
 coat at least half an inch ; but he did not think that 
 enough, and he found means to make it come up to his 
 ears. By dint of all these painful evolutions, his face 
 appeared red and inflamed. 
 
162 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 “ They say, that for some days past you have been 
 paying the most persevering court to my Princess,’’ he 
 observed with an air of indifference, without even 
 looking at me. 
 
 “ Fools must drink tea somewhere,” I answered, 
 quoting from Pouchkin. 
 
 ‘^By the way, do you think my uniform fits? The 
 cursed Jew! how it cuts me under the arms! Have 
 you any perfume ? ” 
 
 “ What, have you not enough ? One could smell 
 you of rose-pomatum a mile off.” 
 
 He threw half a bottle of some essence over his 
 cravat, his handkerchief, and his gloves. 
 
 Shall you dance ? ” he asked. 
 
 “ I don’t think so.” 
 
 “ I am afraid to dance the mazurka with the Prin- 
 cess — I hardly know a single figure.” 
 
 “ And you have invited her for a mazurka ? ” 
 
 “ Not yet.” 
 
 “ Take care you are not forestalled.” 
 
 ‘‘ Ah, indeed,” said he, striking his forehead. 
 “ Good-bye, I will wait for her on the steps of the 
 door.” 
 
 He took up his cap, and ran out. 
 
 Half an hour afterwards I went out : the street 
 was dark and deserted. Around the hotel, at which 
 the ball was given, a dense crowd had gathered. The 
 windows were resplendent with light ; the wind wafted 
 me the sounds of the music of the regimental band. I 
 advanced slowly, as if with regret — I felt gloomy. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 163 
 
 Can it be,” I said to myself, “ that my only mission 
 here should be to destroy the hopes of my fellow-crea- 
 tures ? Since I have existed, and have been able to 
 act, a species of fatality connects me with the windings- 
 up of the strangest dramas ; as if, without me, people 
 could learn neither to die nor to despair. I am a person- 
 age necessary to the fifth act. I have always played the 
 part of the executioner, or of the traitor. What can be 
 the views of Providence in that ? Am I destined to 
 provide food for the imagination of the authors of 
 citizen tragedies or romances ? Who knows ? How 
 many people are there, who, after having dreamed of 
 the end of Alexander the Great, or of Byron, die titular 
 counsellors ! ” 
 
 On entering the ball-room, I hid myself among the 
 crowd of cavaliers, to be able to observe. 
 
 Grouchnitzky was standing near the young Princess, 
 and speaking to her with great animation. She lis- 
 tened abstractedly — carelessly, and kept looking around 
 her, and raising her fan to her lips. Her features ex- 
 pressed impatience ; she seemed to be looking for some 
 one. I approached gently, that I might hear their 
 conversation. 
 
 ‘‘ You delight in torturing me, Princess,” said 
 Grouchnitzky. ‘‘ You are terribly changed since the 
 last time I spoke with you.” 
 
 “ And you also,” she replied, casting on him a rapid 
 glance, in which he had not penetration enough to dis- 
 cover a latent expression of irony. 
 
 I changed ! oh no — never ! you know too well 
 
164 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 that is impossible ! He who has seen you once, will 
 never forget your adored image ! ” 
 
 ‘‘ But really ! — ’’ 
 
 Why do you refuse to hear that, which so lately 
 you heard without anger ? ” 
 
 “ Because I hate repetitions.” 
 
 “ I have cruelly deceived myself! I thought, blind 
 creature as I was, that my epaulettes would at least 
 give me the right to hope. But no 1 Better a thousand 
 times to have kept the soldier^ s capote, — to which, per- 
 haps, I owed your notice.” 
 
 A.nd, indeed, it suited you much better.” 
 
 At this moment I approached Mary, and saluted 
 her ; she blushed slightly, and then said to me, 
 
 “ Is it not true, Mr. Petchorin, that the gray capote 
 suited Mr. Grouchnitzky better than this dress?” 
 
 “ I am not of your opinion,” replied I ; “ the uniform 
 makes him look still younger.” 
 
 Grouchnitzky could not bear this last touch. Like 
 all half-fledged youths, he wishes to appear the full- 
 grown man. He fancies that the deep traces of passion 
 have given to his features the expression of age. He 
 cast upon me a look of anger, stamped his foot, and 
 walked ofi*. 
 
 ‘•You must confess,” said I, to the young Princess, 
 “ that, although he was always absurd, he seemed 
 to you interesting, when he was still an ensign ? ” 
 
 She opened her eyes wide, and seemed to fix them 
 for a moment on vacancy, but made me no reply. 
 
 During the whole evening, Grouchnitzky pursued 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 165 
 
 the Princess ; he was either her partner or her vis-a- 
 vis, and he never ceased staring at her. He sighed, 
 and bored her in every possible way with his languish- 
 ing, and with his mawkish reproaches. By the third 
 quadrille she detested him. 
 
 ‘‘ I hardly expected this from you,’’ he said, taking 
 my arm. 
 
 “ Of what are you speaking r ” 
 
 ‘‘You will dance the mazurka with her?” asked 
 he, in a solemn tone ; “ she has agreed to it.” 
 
 “ Well ! is that a secret ? ” 
 
 “ I ought not to have expected anything else at the 
 hand of that little coquette ; but I’ll be revenged ! ” 
 
 “ You may vent your rage on your capote, or your 
 uniform ; but you have no right to abuse her. Why is 
 she to be blamed because you do not please her?” 
 
 “ Then why give me hopes ?” 
 
 “ Why did you hope ? One may desire — one may 
 pay one’s court; but who the devil ever thought of 
 hoping ? ” 
 
 “ You have won your w^ager : not quite yet, though,” 
 he said, with a grin of hatred. 
 
 The mazurka began. Grouchnitzky danced only 
 with the Princess, and the other cavaliers vied with 
 each other in repeating their invitations to her. It 
 was clear there was a conspiracy against me. She 
 wishes to speak to me — they prevent her. So much 
 the better, she will only wish it the more, thought I. 
 
 I pressed her hand twice ; the second time she 
 withdrew it without speaking a word. 
 
166 
 
 THE PRINCESS M\RY. 
 
 “ I shall sleep badly to-night/’ she said to me, when 
 the mazurka was over. 
 
 “ And Grouchnitzky will have been the cause ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, not at all ! ” 
 
 And her face became so sad, and so pensive, that I 
 promised myself that I would kiss her hand that very 
 evening. 
 
 As she stepped into the carriage, I pressed, for a 
 second, her small hand against my lips. It was dark : 
 none could see us. 
 
 I re-entered the ball-room, very well contented with 
 myself. The young men were supping at a large 
 table ; Grouchnitzky was among them. As I came in, 
 every one was suddenly silent, which showed that they 
 had been speaking of me. I have more than one 
 enemy since the last ball, and particularly the Captain 
 of dragoons. For the time being, Grouchnitzky is, 
 without any doubt, the chief of a band not at all favour- 
 ably inclined towards me, he assumes such a lofty 
 martial air. 
 
 I am delighted ! I love my enemies, but not ex- 
 actly in a Christian point of view. They are for me 
 a source of amusement, and the sight of them makes 
 me feel that I still live. To be always on the watch, 
 to catch every look, the sense of every word ; to 
 divine their intention, play the dupe ; and then, at the 
 moment when they least expect it, to overthrow, at a 
 single blow, the whole edifice so painfully put together 
 by their intrigues and combinations, — that is to me 
 life! 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 167 
 
 During the whole of the supper, Grouchnitzky never 
 ceased whispering to the Captain, and exchanging signs 
 with him. 
 
 June 14. — This morning Vera set off with her 
 husband for Kislovodsk. I met their carriage as I 
 was going to the Ligovskys’. She made me a sign 
 with her head ; her look expressed reproach. 
 
 Whose fault is it ? Why does she not procure me 
 the means of seeing her privately ? Love is like fire ; 
 it dies for want of fuel. Jealousy will perhaps achieve 
 what my prayers could not. 
 
 I remained with the Princess a long time. Mary 
 did not appear. The newly-organised cabal, which, 
 for its arms, had adopted the opera-glass, was indeed 
 menacing. 
 
 I am not sorry that she is ill. They have been boring 
 her. Grouchnitzky ’s mane is neglected; he is in the 
 very deepest gloom of despair. I believe he really is 
 unhappy. In the first place, his self-love is hurt. How 
 is it that, with some people, despair itself is laughable ? 
 
 In coming home, I felt that I missed something. 1 
 have not seen her ! she is indisposed ! Am I by any 
 chance falling in love ? That would indeed be a farce ! 
 
 June 15. — At eleven in the morning, when the 
 Princess Ligovsky regularly perspires in the tub of 
 Jermolof, I passed by her house. Mary was seated, 
 looking very pensive, at a window. On seeing me, she 
 sprung up from her chair ! 
 
168 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 I entered the ante-room. None of the servants 
 were there. Profiting by the liberty one enjoys in 
 these watering places, I entered the Princess’s apart- 
 ment without being announced. 
 
 Her pretty face was quite pale. She was standing 
 near her piano, and resting one hand on the back of an 
 arm-chair. That hand trembled. I approached, and 
 said, ‘‘You are angry with me ! ” 
 
 She gave me a long, melancholy look, and shook 
 her head. Her lips opened as if to speak, but she 
 could not articulate a single word ; her eyes filled with 
 tears, she sank into the arm-chair, and covered her 
 face with her hands. 
 
 “What is the matter?” I said, taking one of her 
 hands. 
 
 “ You do not esteem me ! Oh, I entreat you, leave 
 me !” 
 
 I moved towards the door. She sat up in her 
 chair ; her eyes sparkled. 
 
 I stopped and took hold of the handle of the door, 
 and said, 
 
 “ Excuse me. Princess ; I acted like a madman. 
 Another time it will not be so ; I will be more careful. 
 And why should you be informed of all that passes in 
 my breast ? You shall never know it — and it will be 
 best for you. Adieu.” 
 
 As I went out, I thought I heard her weeping. I 
 wandered about on foot all day long, in the environs of 
 Matchouk, and came home worn down with fatigue. I 
 threw myself on my bed. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 169 
 
 Werner called in. 
 
 ‘‘ Is it true,” said he, “ that you are going to marry 
 the young Princess Ligovsky ? ” 
 
 “ What ? ” 
 
 “ The whole town is talking about it. All my 
 patients are full of the great news. Nothing like 
 sick persons for wanting to know everything.” 
 
 Grouchnitzky has been at work, I said to myself. 
 
 “ To prove to you, Doctor, how little foundation 
 there is for this report, I will tell you — but between 
 you and me, mind — that I am going to-morrow to 
 Kislovodsk.” 
 
 “ And the Princess also ? ” 
 
 “ No ; she does not go till next week.” 
 
 ‘‘ So you are not going to be married ? ” 
 
 “ Doctor, Doctor, just look at me ! Do I look like 
 a betrothed, or anything of that genus ? Tell me, 
 now.” 
 
 ‘‘ I don’t say that. But you know there are cir- 
 cumstances” (here he stopped and smiled) ‘‘ when a 
 man of honour is bound to marry ; and that there are 
 mammas who don’t know how to prevent these circum- 
 stances. I advise you, then, as a friend, to be more 
 circumspect. The air of watering-places is immensely 
 dangerous. How many young men, worthy of a better 
 fate, have I seen go away from this place with a wed- 
 ding bouquet ? Even I, myself, — why they actually 
 wanted to drive me into a marriage ! It was a lady from 
 the country, whose daughter was excessively pale. I 
 had the imprudence to say, that if she married, she would 
 
170 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 probably have a colour. The mother shed tears of 
 gratitude, and offered me the hand of her daughter, 
 with all her fortune, which consisted of fifty souls (serfs), 
 as well as I can remember. I got out of it, by saying 
 that I was little suited to a married life.” 
 
 Werner went away thoroughly convinced that he 
 had given me a salutary warning. 
 
 Nevertheless, reports unfavourable to Mary and to 
 myself were circulated through the town. My dear 
 Grouchnitzky, you will not be let off thus ! 
 
 June 18. — I have been three days at Kislovodsk. 
 I see Vera regularly at the springs, and out walking. 
 In the morning, as soon as ever I am dressed, I point 
 my telescope towards the balcony. She has already 
 been dressed some time, and I see her hoist the given 
 signal. We meet, as if by chance, in the garden, 
 which extends from our dwelling to the spring. The 
 revivifying air of the mountains has given her back her 
 freshness and her strength. It is not without good 
 cause that the Narzan passes for the best of springs. 
 The inhabitants of the place pretend that the air of 
 Kislovodsk predisposes to love ; that all the romances 
 are wound up here, after having been begun in the 
 neighbourhood of Matchouk. 
 
 And, in fact, everything here breathes of romance 
 and solitude. All is mysterious — the deep shade of 
 the alleys of linden-trees, which bend and mirror 
 themselves in the springs, that, murmuring and white 
 with foam, flow amid the green mountains and the 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 171 
 
 dark silent caverns, whose ramifications diverge in all 
 directions ; and the freshness of the atmosphere, redo- 
 lent with the perfumes of the long grasses and of the 
 white acacias ; and the unceasing and sleepy splashing 
 of the streams, which, after having met in the bottom 
 of the valley, pursue their friendly course till they 
 fall together into the Polkoumok. 
 
 On this side, the cavern widens and changes into a 
 green slope, up which winds a dusty road. Each time 
 that I look this way, I fancy I see a rosy face peep out 
 from a carriage window. I have already seen a good 
 number pass by, but not her’s. The village, built 
 behind the fort, is very much frequented. In the 
 hotel near the top of the hill, at a few steps from my 
 lodging, one begins now to see lights in the evening, 
 glimmering between the poplar- trees ; and, till very 
 late at night, one may hear the sound of glasses. 
 
 Nowhere do they drink more Kakhetian wine, and 
 more mineral waters. 
 
 “ Much good may they reap; I rather choose 
 To leave them to double each other’s use.” 
 
 Grouchnitzky and his cabal hardly ever leave the 
 hotel; he scarcely bows to me when he meets me. 
 He only arrived yesterday, and he has already found 
 means to quarrel with three old men who wanted to 
 get into the tub before him. Decidedly, his miscalcu- 
 lations have stirred up his pugilistic qualities. 
 
 June 22. — At length they are arrived. I was at 
 the window — I heard the sound of a carriage, and m}' 
 
 L 2 
 
172 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY, 
 
 heart beat. That looks rather like love. I am so 
 singularly constituted, that I can answer for no- 
 thing. 
 
 I dined with those ladies. The Princess was most 
 gracious ; but she does not lose sight of her daughter. 
 
 This won’t do — Vera is jealous of Mary. Such is 
 the state of things ! What will not a woman be ca- 
 pable of, to wound a rival ? That reminds me, that 
 one of them once loved me, only because I was paying 
 attention to another person. The female mind is a 
 paradox with a thousand faces. You can rarely per- 
 suade a woman ; you must lead her as you will. The 
 arrangement of the proofs by which women overcome 
 their prejudices, is, of all things, the most original. 
 To understand their dialectics, one must begin by 
 reversing all the rules of the school. Let us take 
 an example : — 
 
 According to the logical sense, a woman will say to 
 herself : “ This man loves me ; but I am married — con- 
 sequently, I ought not to love him.” 
 
 In her own logic, this is the way she will argue : 
 “ I ought not to love him, because I am married ; but 
 he loves me. Therefore — ” 
 
 Here there is a suspension, because argument has 
 no further formula. It is the turn for the language of 
 the eyes and of the heart — if she happen to have one. 
 
 And if these memoirs fall into the hands of a wo- 
 man, “ What colouring !” she will exclaim. 
 
 Ever since poets have written, and women have 
 read (which last is a great merit in the sex), they have 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY, 
 
 173 
 
 been so often compared to angels, that they have ended 
 by persuading themselves — in the simplicity and the 
 good faith of their self-esteem — that the compliment 
 was deserved ; without remembering, that these same 
 poets have made of Nero — a god. 
 
 I ought, however, to speak of them with greater 
 reserve^ — I who have loved but them in the world ; 
 who have never hesitated, under any circumstances, to^ 
 sacrifice to them my repose, my ambition , and even my 
 life. Do not mistake me : it is in no ill-humoured fit, 
 or because my vanity is hurt, that I thus lift the magic 
 veil that hides their imperfections, and which the most 
 practised eye can scarcely penetrate. No ; all that I 
 think of them arises from a cold temperament that 
 judges without wavering, and a full heart that fathoms 
 it own sadness. 
 
 It would be well for women if all men knew them 
 as well as I; for I love them a hundred times better, 
 since I know all their little weaknesses. Speaking of 
 this, I remember that Werner compares women to the 
 enchanted forest of which Tasso speaks in his “ Jerusa- 
 lem Delivered” 
 
 At thy first outset thou wilt meet I know not what 
 monsters : duty, pride, propriety, opinion, raillery, con- 
 tempt, and Heaven knows what besides ! Heed them 
 not; pursue thy onward way; by degrees these forms 
 disperse, and thou wilt find a peaceful mead. Here, 
 in the midst of it, myrtle ever blooms. But if thy 
 heart tremble at the outset, if thou dream of retracing 
 thy steps — thou’rt lost ! ” 
 
174 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 June 24. — The evening of this day has been fer- 
 tile in events. At about three versts from Kislovodsk, 
 in a canal formed by the Polkoumok, rises a rock 
 called ‘‘ The King.” It is a doorway fashioned by 
 nature. It is situated on a high hill ; and through 
 this opening the setting sun sheds his last rays. A 
 numerous cavalcade went thither to enjoy the spec- 
 tacle ; although, to say the truth, not one of the spec- 
 tators thought in the least of the sun. I was on 
 horseback, near the Princess Mary. In returning to 
 Kislovodsk, it was necessary to ford over the Polkou- 
 mok. The smallest streams are dangerous among 
 mountains, especially when their bottoms present the 
 aspect of a kaleidoscope : where there was yesterday 
 a stone, there is to-day a hole. I took the reins of 
 the young Princess’s horse, and led it. The water 
 was hardly knee deep. We advanced with care 
 against the stream. It is well known, that in cross- 
 ing a rapid current, one ought not to look at the 
 water, or one becomes giddy. I had forgotten to 
 mention this to her. 
 
 We were just in the middle of the river, where the 
 current is most rapid, when suddenly I saw her ready 
 to fall from her seat. 
 
 “I am ill!” she said, in a faint voice, I leaned 
 over her, and my arm encompassed her slight graceful 
 waist. 
 
 ‘‘Look up, now,” I whispered softly; “it will be 
 nothing. Don’t be alarmed ; I am with you !” 
 
 She came to her senses, and tried to free herself 
 
•THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 175 
 
 from my embrace. But I held her more firmly ; my 
 cheek touch hers, which glowed like fire. 
 
 “ Oh, heavens ! What are you doing ? ’’ 
 
 Without heeding her confusion or her fear, I 
 pressed my lips to her delicate cheek. She started, 
 but did not utter a word. We were behind the others. 
 No one perceived anything. 
 
 As soon as we had reached the bank, every one set 
 off at a trot. The Princess Mary slackened her horse’s 
 pace. I kept near her. It was evident that my 
 silence alarmed her, but I had vowed not to say a 
 word. I wanted to see how it would end. I was 
 curious to know how she would get out of this difficult 
 position. 
 
 “ Either you despise me,” she said, at last, or 
 else you love me very much ! ” There were tears in her 
 voice. “ Perhaps you intend to laugh at me ; to 
 torment me thoroughly, and then leave me. This con- 
 duct would be so unworthy, so base, that the suspicion 
 alone — oh, no ! Is it not true,” she added, in a tone of 
 tenderness and persuasion, ‘‘that there is nothing in 
 me that forbids regard ? Your boldness, I must forgive 
 it, since I permitted it. Answer — speak ! I must hear 
 your voice ! ” 
 
 These last words expressed so clearly a woman’s 
 impatience, that I could not help smiling ; fortunately 
 it was already dark. I did not answer a word. 
 
 “You are silent!” she continued. “You wish to 
 make me speak first ; to confess that I love you ? ” 
 
 I remained silent. 
 
176 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 ‘‘ Is that what you wish ? she added, turning 
 abruptly towards me. In her decided look there was a 
 singular expression. 
 
 “ Why? ’’ I answered, at length, raising my shoulders. 
 
 She touched her horse with her riding whip, and 
 set off at full speed along that narrow and dangerous 
 road. All this passed so quickly that I had scarcely 
 time to rejoin her, and even then not till she had 
 overtaken the rest of the party. Till we reached 
 home, she did nothing but talk and laugh. This agita- 
 tion had something feverish in it. She did not once 
 look at me. Every one was struck with this unac** 
 customed gaiety. The Princess rejoiced at seeing her 
 daughter in this humour ; while it was, in reality, but 
 nervous excitement. She will not sleep to-night ; she 
 will weep. I was singularly pleased with that idea. 
 Occasionally I have something of the vampire in me ; 
 and yet I pass for being good-hearted, and aspire to 
 this reputation ! 
 
 We alighted from our horses. The ladies went to 
 the Princess’s. I was unnerved. I felt the want of a 
 gallop over the mountain, to drive away the gloomy 
 thoughts that assailed me. 
 
 The evening was deliciously cool. The moon was 
 just rising behind the mountain-tops. At every step 
 my horse’s hoof awoke the hollow echo of the ravine. 
 Near the waterfall I let my horse drink. I, myself, 
 eagerly inhaled the fresh air of the night, and returned 
 towards home. I crossed the village. The lights were 
 going out by degrees. The sentinels of the ramparts 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 177 
 
 and the Cossacks of the patroles answered each other 
 through this silence. I remarked that one of the 
 houses of the village, situated on the hill, was unusu- 
 ally light. The noise of questions and answers, crossing 
 each other with great vivacity, and that of exclamations, 
 which resounded from time to time, announced a meet- 
 ing of military men. I advanced with precaution, and 
 concealed myself behind a window. Through the badly- 
 closed shutters I could distinguish the guests, and 
 follow their conversation. They were speaking of me. 
 
 The Captain of dragoons, heated with wine, struck 
 his fist upon the table, and asked a moment’s attention. 
 
 ‘^Gentlemen!” said he, ‘‘all this ends in nothing. 
 We must give Petchorin a lesson ! These coxcombs 
 from St. Petersburg fancy themselves — Heaven knows 
 what! — until they are put into their proper places. He 
 thinks he knows the world better than any one else, 
 because he wears yellow gloves and varnished boots. 
 And then, his smile of protection ! And, with all this, 
 I am certain he is a coward. Yes ; a coward ! ” 
 
 “ I think so, too,” said Grouchnitzky. “ He likes 
 to scofi*. Once I spoke to him in a manner that would 
 make a man, who had a proper respect for himself, 
 draw his sword. He contented himself with turning 
 the thing into a jest. I did not call him out, you 
 understand, because that was his business. Besides, I 
 did not wish to commit myself.” 
 
 “ Grouchnitzky has a spite against him,” said one 
 of the company, “ because he has captivated the little 
 Princess.” 
 
178 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 “What an idea!” replied Grouchnitzky. “It is 
 true that I paid her a little attention ; but I soon gave 
 the thing up, because, not having any intention of 
 marrying, I do not wish to have the young lady 
 spoken about. That’s against my principles.” 
 
 “ I maintain,” said the Captain, “ that he is a right- 
 down coward (I speak of Petchorin, not of Grouch- 
 nitzky) — Grouchnitzky is a brave fellow ; and, moreover, 
 he is my friend. Gentlemen, does any one here take 
 Petchorin’ s part? No one. So much the better ! Do you 
 wish to test his courage ; just to amuse ourselves?” 
 “We ask no better sport ; but how ?” 
 
 “ I’ll tell you,” said the Captain. “ Grouchnitzky 
 has reason to complain of him. The principal part is 
 his by right. He shall seize upon the very first possible 
 occasion, and call out Petchorin. Stop : this is the best 
 way. He shall call him out, as for a duel : that’s all 
 right. The challenge, the arrangements, the conditions, 
 all shall be conducted in a formal manner. I under- 
 take it. I will be your second, my dear friend. Well, 
 all right so far ! only the pistols shall be simply charged 
 with powder. I will wager, with whom you like, that 
 Petchorin shows the white feather. The distance shall 
 be six paces. We shall see, by this means, or the 
 devil’s in it ! Do you approve of this plan, gen- 
 tlemen ? ” 
 
 “ The trick is capital — never was anything better 
 contrived,” exclaimed all the guests. 
 
 “ And you, Grouchnitzky ? ” 
 
 I waited with some emotion for Grouchnitzky’ s 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 379 
 
 answer. Without this lucky chance, I said to myself, 
 with cool anger, I should have been the butt of all these 
 scapegraces. If Grouchnitzky had refused, I should 
 have thrown my arms round his neck. After some 
 moments’ silence, he rose, held out his hand to the 
 Captain, and said, with emphasis, 
 
 “ I agree to it.” 
 
 This resolution was applauded by them all, with 
 an enthusiasm difficult to describe. 
 
 I returned home, agitated by two contrary senti- 
 ments. The first was one of grief. Why do they all 
 hate me ? For what motive ? Have I offended any 
 one of them ? No. Am I then one of those persons 
 the sight of whom inspires a sentiment of ill-will? 
 I felt anger and hatred gliding like venom into my 
 breast. Beware, Mr. Grouchnitzky ! I repeated to 
 myself, as I paced hurredly up and down my room. 
 I am not the man to submit to this kind of pleasantry. 
 The approbation of your friends may cost you dear — I 
 will be the sport of no one. 
 
 I did not sleep a wink all night. In the morning 
 I was the colour of a lemon. 
 
 That morning I met Mary near the spring. 
 
 “ Are you ill ?” she said, looking at me attentively. 
 
 “ I did not close my eyes last night.” 
 
 “Nor I either. I accused you, perhaps, wrong- 
 fully ! But explain yourself, and all shall be for- 
 given.” 
 
 “ All?” 
 
180 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 “ All ! But be frank : do not delay. See, I have 
 weighed it all well. I longed so not to believe you 
 guilty. Perhaps you fear some obstacles — some op- 
 position on the part of my family — you are wrong. 
 When they know — I shall obtain’^ — her voice trembled. 
 ‘‘ If your personal rank ? — believe me, I can sacrifice all 
 for the person I love. Oh ! answer, — I implore you ! — 
 answer quickly ! Tell me you do not despise me 
 
 In saying these words she seized my hand. 
 
 The Princess was on before us with Vera’s husband. 
 She perceived nothing ; but we might be seen by the 
 invalids, the most envious, among the most curious, 
 and I hastened to free my hand from her passionate 
 grasp. 
 
 “ I will tell you the whole truth !” I said. I will 
 not seek to justify myself, nor to explain my conduct. 
 I do not love you.” 
 
 Her lips whitened. 
 
 “ Leave me,” she said, in a faint voice. 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders, and turned away. 
 
 June 25. — Sometimes I am startled by finding 
 that I despise myself. Is not that the reason that I 
 despise others ? My heart is closed against all noble 
 inclinations. I should be too much afraid to appear 
 ridiculous in my own eyes ; any one else in my place 
 would have laid at the feet of the young Princess his 
 heart and his fortune ; but the word marriage has upon 
 me an effect as of magic. Whatever may be my love 
 for a woman, so soon as she touches, ever so lightly. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 181 
 
 upon that chord, farewell my passion! My heart 
 hardens to stone, and it is over ! I am capable of any 
 sacrifices except that. I would risk my life, and even 
 my honour, twenty times over upon a card, but I 
 cannot resolve to sell my liberty. Why do I prize it 
 so much ? Of what use is it to me ? Have I anything 
 in view ? Does the future promise me any compensa- 
 tion ? No ; none whatever. It is an instinctive fear, 
 an indefinable presentiment. There are persons who 
 have a terrible fear of spiders — of mice — taracanos. 
 Shall I confess it ? When I was yet a child, my mother 
 had my fortune told by an old woman. She foretold 
 that I should have a wicked wife, and that she would 
 be my death. At that time it made a deep impression 
 on me, and inspired me with an intense dislike to 
 marriage ; but, notwithstanding all this, I am perfectly 
 certain that the prediction will be accomplished. ITl 
 endeavour that it shall be as late as possible. 
 
 June 26. — Yesterday the presti-digitator Apfel- 
 baum arrived here. They have posted a long bill on 
 the door of the hotel, which informs the public that 
 the aforesaid Apfelbaum, who performs the most in- 
 credible sleights of hand, — who is, at the same time, a 
 dancer on the slack-rope, a chemist, and a physician, — 
 will have the honour to give a grand representation, 
 at eight o’clock this evening, in the Nobility’s Hall. 
 Tickets to be had for two rubles and a half each. 
 Every body must see Apfelbaum ; even the Princess 
 Ligovsky, notwithstanding the illness of her daughter. 
 
182 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 After dinner I passed under Vera’s window ; she was 
 alone on the balcony. This note fell at my feet : — 
 
 “ Come to-night at ten up the great staircase. 
 My husband is gone to Piatigorsk, and will not return 
 till to-morrow morning. I have given tickets for this 
 evening’s representation to my household, and also to 
 that of the Princess. I expect you — do not fail.” 
 
 Oh ! oh ! ” I said, “ at last ! ” 
 
 At eight o’clock I went to see the juggler. The 
 saloon was gradually filling. In the back rows I saw 
 the servants and the waiting- women of Vera in full 
 number ; also those of the Princess. 
 
 In the first row sat Grouchnitzky armed with his 
 opera-glass, making himself as conspicuous as possible. 
 It was to him that the juggler turned when he wanted 
 a pocket-handkerchief, a watch, a ring, etc. For some 
 time past Grouchnitzky has not deigned to salute me ; 
 but to-day he has looked at me once or twice most 
 impertinently. He shall pay for this the first time we 
 settle our accounts. Between nine and ten I rose and 
 went out. 
 
 It was too dark to distinguish any object — a gloomy 
 mist rested on the summits of the surrounding moun- 
 tains. From time to time, but at distant intervals, a 
 faint breeze just moved the topmost branches of the 
 poplars round the hotel — the entrance to which was 
 besieged by a dense crowd of people. I was descend- 
 ing by the slanting path of the mountain at a rapid 
 pace. All at once I thought I heard some one following 
 me ; I stopped to assure myself of the fact. The 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY- 
 
 183 
 
 darkness was too complete to allow me to distinguish 
 anything at all. However, for greater security, I took 
 a few turns round the house, as if I only meant to 
 saunter about. As I passed beneath the windows of 
 the Princess, I again thought that I heard steps ad- 
 vancing behind me. A man, wrapped in a cloak, 
 passed rapidly by. These proceedings annoyed me. 
 However, I glided to the front door, and hastily 
 mounted the door- steps. The door opened. I felt a 
 small soft hand on mine. 
 
 “ Has no one seen you ?” murmured Yera, nestling 
 up to me. 
 
 None.” 
 
 “ Now, are you sure that I love you ? Oh ! I 
 hesitated for a long time ; but you make of me what 
 you will.” 
 
 Her heart beat violently — her hands were icy cold. 
 She began by jealous reproaches and complaints. She 
 exacted that I should confess all, declaring that she 
 would resign herself to my infidelity, because she only 
 desired my happiness. I did not feel over-persuaded 
 of this ; but, to quiet her, I promised and swore all that 
 she wished. 
 
 “ So you will not marry Mary ? You do not love 
 
 her ? Yet she thinks . Do you know that she is 
 
 madly in love with you ? Poor little thing !” 
 
 About two hours after midnight, I opened the 
 windows, and after having tied two shawls together, I 
 let myself slip down from the upper balcony, to the one 
 
184 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 on the first-floor, holding on by a column. There was 
 still a light in the chamber of the young Princess. I 
 know not what demon possessed me to look into her 
 room. The curtain was not entirely drawn. Mary 
 was seated on her couch, her hands folded on her 
 knees. A laced night-cap scarcely confined her rich 
 tresses. A dark crimson shawl was thrown over her 
 white shoulders, and her tiny feet encased in richly- 
 tinted Persian slippers. She remained motionless in 
 this position, her head leaning forward upon her 
 brow. Near her, upon a little table, lay an open book ; 
 but, occupied by other thoughts, she had without 
 doubt gone over the same page a hundred times. At 
 this moment, some one seemed to move behind one of 
 the bushes. I leaped from the balcony on to the grass, 
 an invisible hand placed itself roughly on my shoulders, 
 and a rude voice cried out, 
 
 “ Oh, I have caught you ! Deny now your nightly 
 meetings with Princesses ! ’’ 
 
 “ Hold him tight!’’ said another voice, that came 
 from I know not where. 
 
 It was Grouchnitzky and the Captain of dragoons. 
 
 I dealt this last individual a vigorous blow on the 
 head with my fist ; he staggered, and I bolted through 
 the hedges and arbours. All the walks of the garden, 
 which covered the slanting ground on which the houses 
 were built, were perfectly known to me. 
 
 “Thieves! Halloo! Call the guard!” screamed 
 they. The report of a pistol was heard immediately 
 afterwards ; the wadding, still hot, fell just at my feet. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 185 
 
 One minute more, and 1 was at home. I un- 
 dressed, and went to bed. My servant had scarcely 
 bolted the door, when Grouchnitzky and the Captain 
 began to knock at it. 
 
 “ Petchorin ! are you asleep — are you at home ? ” 
 roared the Captain. 
 
 ‘‘ I am asleep ! ” replied I, ill-temperedly. 
 
 ‘‘ Get up ! Here are brigands ! Tcherkesses ! 
 
 “ I have got a cold. I do not wish to be chilled 
 
 They withdrew. I regret having answered them ; 
 they would have passed a good part of the night looking 
 for me in the garden. 
 
 However, the confusion was great. A Cossack 
 arrived, full gallop, from the fort. Everybody was up. 
 They searched the bushes, the thickets ; of course, in 
 vain. This did not, however, prevent many people 
 from being firmly persuaded, that if the garrison had 
 been a little more zealous and determined, there would 
 have been left on the field some two or three dozen 
 mountaineers. 
 
 June 27. — In the morning, nothing was talked of 
 by the bathers, but the event of the night. After having 
 drank the given number of glasses of the mineral water, 
 and walked ten times up and down the linden-tree 
 avenue, I met Vera’s husband, who had but just 
 arrived at Piatigorsk. He linked my arm within his, 
 and we went to breakfast together at the hotel. He 
 was extremely uneasy about his wife. 
 
 “ How frightened she was last night!” he said to 
 
 M 
 
186 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 me : and all this to come to pass just when I hap- 
 
 pened to be absent.’^ 
 
 We sat down to breakfast, at a table near a door 
 that opened into another room at the corner of the 
 building. In this room were about ten young men. 
 Grouchnitzky was among the number. 
 
 A second time did chance furnish me an oppor- 
 tunity of hearing a conversation that was to decide my 
 fate. He could not see me, and consequently I could 
 not suspect him of any attempt at quizzing me, which 
 made him seem to me the more guilty. 
 
 “ Were they really Tcherkesses ? ’’ asked one of 
 them. “ Did any one see them ? ” 
 
 “I will tell you the whole truth,’^ said Grouch- 
 nitzky ; only promise me to keep it secret. This is 
 the fact. Yesterday, a man whom I will not name, came 
 to tell me, at about ten o^ clock in the evening, that he 
 had seen some one glide into the Princess Ligovsky’s 
 house. I must remark to you, that the Princess was at 
 the juggler’s representation, but that her daughter 
 remained at home. I followed the person who had 
 given me this information, and we stationed ourselves 
 under the window to watch for the lucky seducer.” 
 
 I admit that I was growing alarmed. Although my 
 companion seemed entirely occupied with his break- 
 fast, he might hear some things that would not be at 
 all agreeable, if Grouchnitzky had guessed the truth ; 
 but, blinded by jealousy, he (Grouchnitzky) was far 
 from suspecting it. 
 
 “Well,” continued Grouchnitzky, “we were on 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 187 
 
 the very spot, armed with a gun loaded only with 
 powder, for we only meant to frighten him. We 
 waited in the garden till two o’clock. At length — 
 Heaven knows where he came from ! — it was not the 
 window, which did not open ; but probably from the 
 glass door — at length, I say, we saw some one descend 
 from the balcony. What do you say to this little 
 Princess? Such are the ladies from Moscow ! After 
 that, trust to any one if you can ! We wanted to stop 
 him, but he tore himself out of our hands, and rushed 
 through the bushes. It was then that I fired at him.” 
 A murmur of doubt followed this account. 
 
 You don’t believe me ! ” he continued. ‘‘ On the 
 honour of a gentleman, I pledge you my word, it’s the 
 plain truth ; and to clear up all doubts, I will name you 
 the person.” 
 
 “ Who is it ? Name him ! ” 
 
 “ Petchorin !” answered Grouchnitzky. 
 
 At this moment he raised his eyes. I was in the 
 doorway, standing right before him. He coloured as 
 he saw me. I went up to him, and laying a stress 
 upon each syllable, I pronounced, slowly, these words, 
 “ I regret extremely, not having entered until after 
 I had heard you pledge your word of honour to support 
 one of the most unworthy calumnies. My presence 
 would have spared you this extra meanness.” 
 
 Grouchnitzky sprang from his seat, and appeared 
 disposed to fly into a passion. 
 
 “ I beg of you,” I continued, in the same tone, 
 “ this very instant, to retract your words. You know 
 
 M 2 
 
188 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 better than any one that they are false. I would not 
 have believed that a woman’s indifference to your 
 merit, could have drawn upon her so hateful an act of 
 vengeance. Mark me well, if you persist in maintain- 
 ing your words, you are wanting in honour, and you 
 risk your life.” 
 
 Grouchnitzky stood before me, bis eyes bent on the 
 ground ; he was evidently much agitated. But the 
 struggle between conscience and vanity was short. 
 The Captain of dragoons, who was sitting near him, 
 nudged him with his elbow: he started, and replied 
 to me petulantly, without raising his eyes, 
 
 “ Sir, when I say a thing, it is because I think it; 
 and I am quite ready to repeat what I have said. I am 
 not afraid of your threats, and I do not shrink from any 
 consequences.” 
 
 “ As for the last clause,” replied I, coolly, “ your 
 conduct more than proves its truth.” 
 
 And I left the room in company with the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 You are the friend of Grouchnitzky,” 1 said 
 to him, “ and you will probably be his second ? ” 
 
 The Captain bowed pompously. 
 
 “You have guessed correctly,” he replied ; and, 
 moreover, I have a right to be so, for the insult he has 
 received regards me personally. I was with him last 
 night,” he added, drawing up his ungainly figure. 
 
 “ Ah ! it was you, then, that I struck so rudely on the 
 head.” 
 
 He turned all the colours of the rainbow, and the 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 189 
 
 bad qualities of his mind expressed themselves at once 
 in his face. 
 
 “ I shall have the honour to send you my second,” 
 I replied, bowing courteously, and as if I had in no- 
 wise remarked his confusion or his anger. 
 
 Before the door of the hotel I met Vera’s husband ; 
 he seemed to be waiting for me. 
 
 He seized my hand, with an air that had actually 
 something of enthusiasm in it. 
 
 “ Noble youth ! ” he said to me, with tears in his 
 eyes. “ I have heard all, — what perversity and in- 
 gratitude. After that, I hope, such fellows will never 
 be admitted into a decent house again. Fortunately 
 for me, 1 have no daughters ! But she, for whom you 
 have riskedyour life, will reward you. You may depend 
 upon my discretion. I have been young, and been in 
 the service too. I know there are certain things one 
 must not meddle with ! Good-bye.” 
 
 Poor man ! he congratulates himself upon having 
 no daughters ! 
 
 I called upon Werner — he was at home. I informed 
 him of everything, of my dealings with Vera and Mary, 
 of the conversation that I had heard, and which left no 
 doubt as to the intention harboured by these gentlemen, 
 of hoaxing me, by making me fight with arms that 
 were not loaded. 
 
 “ Now,” I added, “ this is no longer a joke ; the affair 
 has turned out differently from what they thought.” 
 
 The Doctor consented to be my second ; I gave him 
 some information respecting the rules of duels ; he was 
 
190 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 to enact that all should be arranged as secretly as 
 possible ; for the reason that, although I did not object 
 to expose my life, I had not any wish to throw away 
 my future prospects. I then went home ; an hour 
 afterwards, the Doctor returned from his expedition. 
 
 Decidedly,” he said, “ there is a conspiracy formed 
 against you. I found at Grouchnitzky’s quarters, the 
 dragoon Captain, and another person, whose name 
 escapes me. I had stopped a moment to take off my 
 golloshes. They were arguing loudly. 
 
 ‘ I would not consent to it for the world ! ’ said 
 Grouchnitzky, ‘ he has insulted me publicly — before, 
 it was different.’ 
 
 “ ‘What is that to you ? ’ said the Captain ; ‘ I take it 
 all upon myself. I have been second in five duels, and 
 I know what ought to be done. Every contingency is 
 provided for ; only do not come and overturn my 
 plans. We must frighten him ; it will do him good. 
 But why expose one’s self uselessly to a danger that 
 one can as well avoid ? ’ 
 
 “At this moment I entered. The conversation ceased 
 immediately. We argued a -long time. At last, this is 
 what we agreed upon : — five versts from here there is 
 a deep ravine ; they will be there to-morrow, at four in 
 the morning, and we will join them half an hour later. 
 The distance is to be six paces. Grouchnitzky himself 
 insists on it. The one who falls shall pass for having 
 been killed by the Tcherkesses. Now I will impart to you 
 hay suspicions. These gentlemen — that is to say, Grouch- 
 nitzky’s seconds — have it appears slightly modified their 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 191 
 
 plan, and wish to load one of the pistols, Grouchnitzky’s. 
 This is something like murder ; but in time of war, par- 
 ticularly among the Asiatics, stratagem is permitted. 
 However, Grouchnitzky himself seems rather more 
 scrupulous than his council. What say you, shall we 
 let them see that we know all ? ” 
 
 “ Oh no. Doctor ! Don’t be alarmed ; I shall not be 
 their dupe.” 
 
 “ What do you intend doing ? ” 
 
 “ That is a secret.” 
 
 “ Take care : — recollect it is at six paces.” 
 
 “ Doctor, I expect you to-morrow morning at four — 
 the horses will be ready — Good-bye.” 
 
 I remained in my room till the evening. A servant 
 came with an invitation from the Princess. I sent 
 word that I was ill. 
 
 It is two hours after midnight. I find it impossible 
 to sleep ; and yet I ought to get some rest — if ever so 
 little : my hand might tremble. To be sure, it is diffi- 
 cult to miss a man only six paces oflP. Ah ! Mr. Grouch- 
 nitzky, your trick will not succeed ! We will change 
 posts. It will be I who will read on your features your 
 secret disquietude and fears? Do you believe I will 
 courteously present my forehead to your bullet ? We 
 will draw lots, if you please ! and then — then ! And if 
 he should be more lucky than I ? If my star deserts 
 me ? And in sooth it has been so long faithful to all my 
 caprices ! Well, then ! now for death ! The world will 
 not lose much ; and I myself am tired out and disgusted 
 with life. I am somewhat like a man who is yawning, 
 
192 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 and wishing himself away from a ball, and who does 
 not leave it, because his carriage has not yet come for 
 him. The carriage is ready — Good-night ! I mentally 
 recapitulate all that has happened during my life ; and 
 that leads me involuntarily to ask myself why I was 
 born } Of what use has my life ever been ? And yet 
 I was destined for something noble and great, for I feel 
 within me an extraordinary power. But I have been 
 false to this high mission. I have yielded to the allure- 
 ments of vain and empty passions : from the furnace I 
 came out cold and hard as iron. The fire of noble in- 
 stincts is for ever quenched — the flower of existence is 
 withered. And since then how often have I played the 
 part of the axe in the hands of destiny ? 
 
 As a chastening instrument, I have fallen on the 
 heads of the appointed victims; sometimes without anger, 
 always without pity. My love has not caused happi- 
 ness to any one, because I never sacrificed anything 
 to those I loved. I loved for myself alone ; for my per- 
 sonal satisfaction. I yielded to a strange longing of 
 the heart. I have eagerly drained the cup of bliss and 
 of anguish, and my thirst is still insatiable. Just as a man 
 who, faint with hunger, falls asleep at length through 
 exhaustion, and seeing in his dreams the most savoury 
 viands, the most exquisite wines, feeds in imagination 
 on these fancied delicacies, and feels relieved ; when all 
 at once the illusion vanishes, and he awakes with re- 
 doubled hunger and more deep despair. 
 
 Perhaps this is my last day of life ; and shall I not 
 leave behind me on earth one single being who has 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 193 
 
 understood me ? Some think me more perverse than I 
 really am ; others fancy me better : some will say he 
 was a good fellow ; others, he was a hateful being. The 
 truth lies between the two extremes. Life is not worth 
 regretting ; and yet one lives for curiosity’s sake, in the 
 expectation of — I know not what. It is alike sad and 
 ludicrous. 
 
 It is already six weeks since I came to Fort N . 
 
 Maximus Maximitch is away hunting. I am alone, con- 
 templating from my window the gray clouds that cover 
 the mountains and hills : in the midst of these vapours 
 the sun appears like a yellow spot. The air is cold ; the 
 wind whistles and shakes the shutters of my room. To 
 drive away the spleen, I have a mind to continue my 
 journal, that so many different circumstances have forced 
 me to lay aside. 
 
 I’ve read my last page. It is singular ! I thought I 
 was to die. It was impossible, — I had not yet exhausted 
 the sense of suffering ; and now I feel that I have a long 
 time to live. 
 
 How clearly the past recalls itself to my mind! 
 Time has not obliterated a single one of its traits, 
 not a single shade 1 
 
 I remember perfectly that the night which preceded 
 my duel passed without sleep. It was impossible for me 
 to write ; a secret uneasiness pervaded my whole being. 
 
 I walked about my room ; then I opened a novel of 
 Scott’s, that lay on my table. It was “ Old Mortality.” 
 At first, my attention was given to it with an effort ; 
 
194 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 then I forgot myself, led on by the magic of the narra- 
 tive. 
 
 At length the day dawned. My nerves were 
 calmer. I looked at myself in the glass. My face was 
 pale, and my features bore traces of sleeplessness ; but 
 my eyes, although surrounded by a dark ring, flashed 
 with resolute and inflexible pride. I was satisfied with 
 myself. 
 
 After having given orders for saddling our horses, I 
 dressed, and ran to the spring of Narzan. On getting 
 out of the tub, I felt that the revivifying freshness of the 
 thermal waters had restored my strength. I was calm 
 and full of nerve. Any one would have thought I was 
 preparing for a fete. After that, let me not be told that 
 the soul is independent of the physical constitution. 
 
 At my return, I found the Doctor waiting for me ; 
 his riding pantaloons, his arWialouk^ and his Persian cap, 
 made him look so comical, that I burst out laughing. 
 His face, which has nothing of a martial expression, 
 appeared still more woe-begone in this equipment. 
 
 “ Why this long face. Doctor ? ” said I. “Have 
 you not a hundred times, with the most stoic indifier- 
 ence, sent people out of the world ? Just imagine that 
 I have a good bilious fever : I may escape, I may 
 kick the bucket; this alternative is in the natural order 
 of things. Look upon me, as you would upon a patient 
 sufiering from an illness which has not yet revealed 
 itself, by its symptoms, to your experience ; which thing 
 would wonderfully excite your interest. You have an 
 opportunity of making upon me some curious physio- 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 195 
 
 logical observations. Is not the expectation of a vio- 
 lent death a real malady.’’ 
 
 This thought struck the Doctor, and he resumed 
 his wonted liveliness. 
 
 We mounted our horses. Werner seized the bridle 
 with both hands, and we set of. We had soon passed 
 the fort, and crossed the village ; taking a road half 
 covered with high grass, and intersected by frequent 
 swift-running streamlets, that we were obliged to ford, 
 — to the great annoyance of the Doctor, because his 
 horse, when once in the water, always obstinately 
 stopped there. 
 
 I never remember a brighter, clearer morning, than 
 this. The rising sun was just appearing behind the 
 green mountain tops, and the mild warmth of its young 
 rays, in their struggle with the cool freshness of the 
 scarcely-dispersed shadows of the night, inspired one 
 with an indescribable, but pleasing, sadness. The 
 morning light did not penetrate into the ravines ; it 
 only gilded the crests of the heights, which on both sides 
 overhung our heads. The tufted shrubs covered us, at 
 every breeze, with a shower of silvery flowers. At this 
 momen t, more than at any other time , I felt how much 
 I kyed natm Each dew-drop that trembled on the 
 large vine-leaves, and in which were reflected, in rain- 
 bow tints, thousands of dancing sunbeams, attracted 
 my admiring attention. With what eagerness my eye 
 plunged into the misty depths of the valley ! In de- 
 scending, the path gradually narrows, the rocks become 
 more imposing and more dark, and at length unite as if 
 to form an impassable barrier. We rode on in silence. 
 
196 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 ‘‘ Have you made your will ? ’’ said Werner sud- 
 denly. 
 
 “No.’’ 
 
 “ And if you are killed ? ” 
 
 “ My inheritors will find it all out for themselves.” 
 
 “ What ! Have you no friends — not a word of fare- 
 well to any one ? ” 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 “ Is there no woman in the world to whom you 
 would wish to leave something as a remembrance ? ” 
 
 “Doctor, shall I open my mind entirely to you? 
 Look you, I have passed the age at which one dies 
 pronouncing the name of an adored one — when one 
 leaves to a friend a lock of hair, which may or may not 
 remind him of the owner. In contemplating a near and 
 peaceful death, I think but of myself. Friends, who 
 will forget me to-morrow, or who will perhaps lay 
 to my account, heaven knows what store of follies — 
 women, who, in the arms of another, will laugh at me 
 for fear of his jealousy ! — faith, let them do as they 
 will ! From this stormy life I carry away ideas, but 
 no feelings ; long since, with me, the heart has been 
 dead — the head alone lives. I link my passions and 
 my actions together with curiosity, but not with in- 
 terest. There are in me two men : the one lives in all 
 the fulness of this expression; the other thinks and 
 judges the first. The one is going, perhaps, to bid you 
 adieu for ever ; and the second — Look, Doctor ! Do 
 you not distinguish three figures, yonder to the right, 
 upon the rock ? They must be our people.” 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 197 
 
 We spurred on our horses. 
 
 At the foot of the rock, among the bushes, were 
 tethered three horses ; we tied up ours in the same 
 place ; and arrived, by a narrow pathway, at a small 
 platform, where Grouchnitzky and his seconds awaited 
 us, — the Captain of dragoons, and a certain Ivan Igna- 
 tiewitch, whose surname I never learned. 
 
 “We have been waiting a long time,” said the 
 Captain, in a sneering tone. 
 
 I drew out my watch, and showed it to him. 
 
 He apologised, saying that his own was too fast. 
 
 During some minutes, we remained silent. At 
 length the Doctor, turning to Grouchnitzky, said, 
 
 “ It seems to me, that, as you have both shown that 
 you were ready to fight to satisfy the demands of 
 honour, you might contrive an explanation, gentlemen, 
 and end this business without a duel.” 
 
 “ I should be most happy,” I added. 
 
 The Captain made a sign to Grouchnitzky, who, 
 thinking I was frightened, assumed an important, swag- 
 gering air, in strange contradiction with his pale face 
 and trembling hands. It was the first time his eyes 
 had met mine that morning. 
 
 “ Explain your conditions; and rely upon it that all 
 I can do I will.” 
 
 “ These are my conditions : you shall publicly retract 
 your libellous accusation, and make me an apology.” 
 
 “ I am astonished, sir, that you dare propose such 
 conditions.” 
 
 “ Is not this the only reparation I can accept ? ” 
 
198 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 “ In that case, we fight.” 
 
 I shrugged up my shoulders. 
 
 “ Be it so,” I replied. “ But remember, that one of 
 us shall fall.” 
 
 “ I hope it may be you.” 
 
 “ And I am certain of the contrary.” 
 
 He changed countenance, coloured, and laughed 
 a forced laugh. 
 
 The Captain took him aside, and for some minutes 
 they whispered together. I had come in a calm, 
 peaceful mood ; but I now felt my anger rising. 
 
 The Doctor approached me. 
 
 Listen to me,” he said, with visible emotion ; 
 “ you have surely forgotten what was agreed between 
 them. I do not know how to load a pistol ; but in a 
 circumstance like this — you are a singular man — tell 
 them that you are informed of their plan, and they 
 will not dare — what a whim ! They will fire upon you 
 as upon a sparrow.” 
 
 “ Pray don’t be uneasy. I will arrange the thing 
 so as to leave them no advantage. Let them concert.” 
 Gentlemen,” I exclaimed ; “ this begins to weary 
 me. When people are decided upon fighting, they 
 fight ; you had plenty of time yesterday to make your 
 arrangements.” 
 
 ‘‘We are ready,” replied the Captain. “ Place 
 yourselves, gentlemen ! Doctor, have the goodness to 
 measure six paces.” 
 
 “ To your places,” repeated Ivan Ignatiewitch, in a 
 squeaking voice. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 199 
 
 “ One word more. As it is a duel of life and death, 
 we ought to spare no precaution in order that every- 
 thing shall go off as secretly as possible, and so as 
 not to compromise our seconds. Are you not of this 
 opinion ? ” 
 
 “ Entirely so.” 
 
 “ This is what I mean, then : You see on the sum- 
 mit of that projecting rock a narrow platform. That 
 point is at least two hundred feet higher than this 
 ground ; it looks down upon the tops of these rocks. 
 We will both stand at the edge of the precipice. In 
 this manner the slightest wound must be mortal ; you 
 see I completely fall in with your intentions, — since it 
 is you who decided that we shoidd fire at only six 
 paces from each other. Whichever of us is wounded, 
 will infallibly fall into the abyss, and be dashed upon 
 the sharp rocks ; the Doctor shall extract the ball, and 
 it will be natural to attribute this death to a false step. 
 We will draw lots as to who shall have the first 
 fire. I declare to you that I will fight only on these 
 conditions.” 
 
 “ Weil and good,” said the Captain, casting a look 
 at Grouchnitzky, which betrayed their connivance. 
 
 My adversary’s face changed colour at every in- 
 stant. I had placed him in a delicate position : in firing 
 at me, according to the usual laws of duelling, he might 
 wound me slightly, and satisfy his resentment without 
 burdening his conscience ; but now he was under the 
 necessity of committing a murder, or of firing in the 
 air ; or else, in short, renouncing his unworthy sub- 
 
200 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 terfuge, to fight me upon equal chances. I should 
 not have liked to be in his place. 
 
 He took the Captain aside to speak to him. He 
 was violently agitated, his lips were livid and quiver- 
 ing ; but the Captain turned away from him with a 
 smile of contemptuous pity. 
 
 “ You are mad,’’ he said, loud enough to be heard, 
 “ There is no making you understand. Lead on, gen- 
 tlemen ! ” 
 
 A narrow pathway, or, as it were, a natural flight of 
 steps, formed of fragments of rock, led to the platform 
 I had designated ; up which we climbed, holding on 
 frequently by the branches. Grouchnitzky walked first, 
 then his second, and the Doctor and myself brought up 
 the rear. 
 
 “You astonish me,” said Werner, warmly pressing 
 my hand. “ Let me feel your pulse. Oh, oh ! rather 
 febrile, or so ; but your face is imperturbable, and your 
 eyes are brighter than usual.” 
 
 Just at that moment some pebbles fell at my feet. 
 Grouchnitzky had stumbled ; the branch he had hold 
 of had broken oflp, and he would have slipped down the 
 whole way upon his back, had not his seconds held 
 him. 
 
 “ Beware ! ” I called out to him, “ Do not fall 
 beforehand ; it is a bad sign. Bemember Julius Csesar !” 
 
 At length we arrived at the platform. • It was co- 
 vered with fine sward, as if laid out purposely for a 
 duel. On all sides the mountain crests, which extended 
 as far as the eye could reach, seemed to press around 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 201 
 
 like innumerable herds^ Towards the south, El- 
 burz reared its hoary head, forming the limit of the 
 eternally snowy top, around which floated the vapours 
 that rose from the east. 
 
 I advanced to the edge of the precipice, and looked 
 down. I thought my head would turn. The bottom 
 appeared cold, and dark as a grave. The sharp rocks 
 seemed to await their prey. 
 
 The ground fixed on for the combat formed a regu- 
 lar triangle. From the uppermost angle, six paces were 
 measured. It was agreed that he who had first to en- 
 counter the fire of his adversary, should stand on this same 
 angle ; his back towards the precipice. If he were not 
 killed, he was to change places with his opponent. 
 
 I was resolved to allow Grouchnitzky every advan- 
 tage. I wished to try him : perhaps a spark of gene- 
 rosity would be found in his breast ; and then all might 
 be arranged amicably : but vanity and weakness were 
 to carry the day. I reserved to myself to spare him, 
 if fate favoured me. Who is there that has not made 
 a like capitulation with his conscience? 
 
 Now for the toss. Doctor,’’ said the Captain. 
 
 Werner took from his pocket a piece of silver, and 
 threw it up in the air. 
 
 “ Eagle,” said Grouchnitzky, whom a sign of 
 command had just recalled to his senses. 
 
 “ Rouble,” said I, in my turn. 
 
 The coin turned on itself, and fell with a clanking 
 sound to the ground. Every one ran forward to see it. 
 
 “ You are lucky ,” said I to Grouchnitzky. ‘‘It is 
 
 N 
 
202 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 your turn to fire first. But remember one thing : which 
 is, that if you do not kill me, I promise I shall not miss 
 you. I pledge you my word of honour.” 
 
 He reddened : he was ashamed to kill an unarmed 
 man. I looked at him fixedly. For an instant, I 
 thought he was going to fling himself at my feet, to 
 implore my pardon. But how could he confess so base 
 an action ? There remained but one way ; — that was, 
 to fire in the air. One only consideration withheld him : 
 the fear that I might proceed with the duel. 
 
 ‘‘It is time!” said the Doctor, pulling me by 
 the arm. “ If^ you do not speak now, — if you do not 
 tell them that you know of their plot, — all is lost. 
 There ; he is loading the pistols. If you do not speak, 
 I will.” 
 
 “ No, Doctor 1 ” I replied, holding him back by the 
 arm ; “if you speak, it will spoil all. You promised 
 to let me act as I thought fit. Who knows ? perhaps 
 I wish to be killed.” 
 
 He looked at me with astonishment. 
 
 “ Oh ! that alters the case. Only, don’t reproach 
 me in the next world.” 
 
 The Captain had loaded the weapons. He gave a 
 pistol to Grouchnitzky, saying, at the same time, some- 
 thing to him in a low voice ; and then he handed me 
 the other. I stood at the angle indicated ; one knee 
 firmly resting against a stone, and my body bent for- 
 ward, that I might not fall back, in case I should be 
 but slightly wounded. 
 
 Grouchnitzky placed himself opposite to me ; and 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 203 
 
 at the signal agreed on, he raised his pistol. His knees 
 trembled. He aimed at my forehead. 
 
 Unspeakable rage agitated my breast. 
 
 Suddenly he uncocked the pistol ; and, with a face 
 pale as ashes, he turned to his second. 
 
 “ I cannot do it,” he said, in a faint voice. 
 
 “ Coward ! ” responded the Captain. 
 
 The shot was fired — the bullet slightly grazed my 
 knee. Involuntarily, I advanced a few steps to lessen 
 the distance from the edge. 
 
 “ Come, my dear Grouchnitzky,” said the Captain, 
 “ I am sorry you missed your aim. It is your turn 
 now, — take your place. But first let us embrace, for I 
 shall see you no more.” 
 
 They embraced each other. The Captain could 
 scarce contain his hilarity. 
 
 ‘^Do not be frightened,” added he, looking at him 
 knowingly. 
 
 “ Nature, — existence, — even fate. 
 
 Are things of little or no weight.” 
 
 After this philosophic quotation, he returned to his 
 post. Ivan Ignatiewitch also embraced Grouchnitzky, 
 with tears in his eyes; and my adversary remained 
 alone before me. Up to this moment I endeavour, in 
 vain, to account for the feeling that then actuated me. 
 It was resentment of wounded vanity, contempt, anger, 
 at the idea that that man, now so calm and so com- 
 posed, had tried two minutes ago, and without running 
 any risk, to kill me like a dog ; for, seriously wounded 
 in the leg, I must inevitably have fallen into the 
 
 N 2 
 
204 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 abyss For some minutes I looked at him attentively, 
 endeavouring to discern in his face some indication 
 of regret. I thought I saw him try to repress a 
 smile. 
 
 “ The best thing for you to do in the face of death,” 
 said I, “ is to recommend your soul to God.” 
 
 “ Do not concern yourself for my soul, more than 
 for your own. I only ask one thing of you : and that 
 is, to fire quickly.” 
 
 ‘‘ And you will not retract your calumny — you will 
 not apologise? Reflect. Does your conscience re- 
 proach you with nothing ? ” 
 
 “ Mr. Petchorin,” exclaimed the Captain, “ you 
 are not here to preach a sermon ; permit me to inform 
 you of the fact. End the afiair : some one may pass 
 this way, and see us.” 
 
 Very well. Doctor, come here a moment.” 
 
 Werner approached : the poor Doctor ! he was 
 ten times paler than Grouchnitzky had been ten minutes 
 before. 
 
 I pronounced the following words, in a loud in- 
 telligible voice, pausing upon each syllable, as though 
 I were passing a sentence of death ! 
 
 ‘‘ Doctor, these gentlemen, in their hurry, have 
 certainly forgotten to put a bullet in my pistol. I will 
 thank you to re-load it.” 
 
 “ Impossible ! ” exclaimed the Captain ; “ it’s im- 
 possible. I loaded both the weapons, — the bullet of 
 your pistol must have fallen out, — it is not my fault. 
 But you have no right to reload it ; — that’s not the 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 205 
 
 custom, —it’s against the rules of duelling, — I will not 
 allow it.” 
 
 “ Very well,” said I to the Captain ; we will fight, 
 you and I, on the last-named conditions.” 
 
 He remained speechless. 
 
 Grouchnitzky stood before me, silent and gloomy ; 
 his head bent forward. 
 
 “Let them do it,” he said at length to the Captain, 
 who was endeavouring to snatch the pistol from the 
 hands of the Doctor ; “ you know they are right.” 
 
 The Captain kept making all sorts of signs to 
 Grouchnitzky, who would not even look towards him. 
 
 When the pistol was loaded, the Doctor handed it 
 to me. 
 
 The Captain spit and stamped his foot. 
 
 “ You are mad,” said he, to Grouchnitzky; “ stark, 
 staring mad. Since you had left it to me, you ought 
 to have minded me in everything. However, it’s your 
 own business ; let yourself be killed like a fly.” 
 
 He went away, muttering, between his teeth, That 
 does not prevent its being against all rules.” 
 
 “ Grouchnitzky,” I said, “ you have yet time ; 
 retract your calumnies, — I forgive everything. You 
 have not succeeded in hoaxing me : that is enough. 
 Remember that we have been friends.” 
 
 His face was crimson ; his eyes sparkled fire ! He 
 answered, “ I despise myself as much as I hate you. 
 If you don’t kill me, I will murder you in the dark, at 
 the very first opportunity. The world has not room 
 enough for you and for me.” 
 
206 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 I fired. 
 
 When the smoke had vanished, Gronchnitzky’s 
 place was vacant : only a slight column of dust rose 
 above the edge of the abyss. 
 
 A general exclamation was heard around. 
 
 “ Finita la comedia ! ’’ said I to the Doctor. 
 
 Without answering me, he turned away with horror. 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders, and bowed to Grouch- 
 nitzky’s seconds. 
 
 As I re-descended the narrow pathway, I perceived, 
 in one of the fissures of the rocks, the blood-stained 
 corpse. I closed my eyes involuntarily. After having 
 untied my horse, I returned home at a walking pace. 
 I felt a weight at my heart. The sun appeared to me 
 dim, and its rays without heat. 
 
 Instead of crossing the village, I turned to the right 
 into the ravine. The sight of man was painful to me — 
 I wanted to be alone. 
 
 With my head bent forward, and with a loose rein, 
 I wandered about for a long time. At length, finding 
 myself in a spot entirely unknown to me, I turned back, 
 and endeavoured to find -my way home. The sun was 
 setting when I entered Kislovodsk, not less exhausted 
 than my steed. My servant told me that Werner had 
 called, and left two letters for me ; one from himself, 
 the other from Vera ! 
 
 I opened the first : it ran thus — 
 
 ‘‘Everything is arranged in the best possible man- 
 ner. The body, completely disfigured, has been brought 
 home ; the ball has been extracted from the chest. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 207 
 
 Every one believes that the misfortune is only attribut- 
 able to chance. However, the Commandant, who has 
 probably heard of your quarrel, shook his head, and 
 said nothing. There exist no proofs ; you may rest 
 quietly. Adieu.” 
 
 I hesitated some time before I could find courage 
 to break the seal of the other note. What could she 
 write to me ? A melancholy presentiment weighed 
 upon my heart. Here is this note, of which every 
 word will remain for ever indelibly engraved on my 
 memory : 
 
 I write to you in the firm conviction that we shall 
 never meet again. Some years ago I had the same fears. 
 It has pleased Heaven to try me a second time. This 
 trial I could not resist. My weak heart yielded to that 
 well-known voice. You will not despise me for that. 
 May I not hope it ? This letter shall be a farewell and 
 confession. I feel it to be a duty to tell you all that 
 has been hoarding in my heart since it has loved you. 
 I will not accuse you ; you have acted towards me as 
 every other man would have done in your place. You 
 loved me as your property ; as a source of the pleasures, 
 cares, and troubles, which succeed each other in their 
 turns, and without which existence is dull and mono- 
 tonous. I understood that from the beginning; but 
 you were unhappy, and I sacrificed myself in the hope 
 that you would reward me for it at some future day ; 
 that a time would come when you would understand 
 the depth of my love, which is independent of any con- 
 ditions. Since then, a long period has elapsed ; I have 
 
208 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 learned to penetrate the secrets of your nature ; I have 
 acquired the conviction that my hope was chimerical. 
 I have suffered cruelly ; but my affection has grown 
 with my soul — it might suffer, but could not be annihilated. 
 
 “We part for ever ; but you may be persuaded 
 that I shall never love another. My soul has exhausted 
 upon you all its treasures, all its tears, all its hopes. 
 She who has once loved you, cannot look but with a 
 certain degree of contempt upon any other man. It is 
 not that you are better than your fellow-men. Ah 
 no ! but there is in you something which is your own, 
 and yours alone — an indefinable mixture of pride and 
 mystery. Whatever you say, there is in your voice 
 an irresistible power. None know so well how 
 to please at will — none possess to the same degree the 
 secret of making evil attractive — no look promises the 
 same amount of happiness as yours — none know so well 
 as you how to turn to profit your numerous advantages 
 — and none, in short, are so truly unhappy ; because 
 none take the same trouble to persuade themselves of the 
 contrary. 
 
 “ This morning my husband came to me, and told 
 me of your quarrel with Grouchnitzky. Without doubt, 
 my emotion betrayed me, for he looked at me long 
 and fixedly. I nearly fainted when I learned that 
 you would fight, and on my account. I thought I 
 should have lost my senses. But now that I have well 
 reflected, I am convinced that you will not fall. It is 
 impossible that you should die without me — impossible ! 
 My husband walked up and down the room for some 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 209 
 
 time. I do not remember wbat be said to me, nor what 
 I answered him ; perhaps I told him that I loved you. 
 I only remember that, at the close of our conversation, 
 he addressed to me an insulting epithet, and left the 
 room. I heard him give orders for packing the car- 
 riage. For three hours past I have stationed myself at 
 the window, watching his return. But you live ; you 
 cannot die ! The carriage is nearly ready. Farewell ! 
 Farewell ! I am wretched, but resigned. Could I but 
 know that you would never forget me — I do not say 
 would love me always — no ! I would be content to live 
 only in your memory. Adieu! I hear some one 
 coming. I must hide this letter. 
 
 “You do not love this Mary ? You will not marry 
 her ? Is it not just that you should make this sacrifice 
 to me, who have sacrificed all to you ? ” 
 
 Maddened, bewildered, I rushed to the door-steps. 
 I leaped upon my Tcherkesse horse, that they were 
 walking up and down the court, and, without pity for 
 the poor animal, set off at full gallop along the road to 
 Piatigorsk. 
 
 The sun ’was disappearing in a circle of dark clouds, 
 that had come up from the west ; the ravine was dark 
 and damp. The Polkoumok, in running over the rock, 
 gave forth a low moaning sound. Breathless with im- 
 patience, I hurried on my steed. The idea of not find- 
 ing her at Piatigorsk was like a heavy blow upon 
 my heart, that crushed it. To see her but for a minute 
 — one only minute, to bid her farewell — to press her 
 hand 1 In my present agitation, I mingled prayers 
 
210 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 with curses — tears with wild laughter. No — nothing 
 can convey an idea of my consternation and despair ! 
 The possibility of losing her for ever made her dearer 
 to me than life, than honour, than happiness itself! 
 Heaven knows what strange and furious ideas were 
 clashing together in my brain ; and the more I suffered, 
 the more I spurred on my poor beast. I soon remarked 
 that he breathed with difficulty : he had already twice 
 stumbled upon smooth ground. It was still five versts 
 to Essentoukof, a Cossack colony, where I could procure 
 another horse. 
 
 If mine could bear up for but ten minutes, all was saved ; 
 but, suddenly, in making an attempt to climb a slight 
 ascent, just at the fall of the mountain, his knees bent 
 under him, and he fell. I leaped to the ground — I 
 tried to raise him by pulling him by the bridle : all was 
 useless — a feeble moan came from between his teeth ; a 
 few moments more, and he was dead. I was alone on 
 the steppe — deprived of my last hope. I tried to 
 » achieve the remaining distance on foot. I staggered. 
 Exhausted by the agitation of the day, and by a sleep- 
 less night, I fell on the damp grass, and wept like a 
 child. 
 
 I remained a long time motionless, shedding bitter 
 tears, and giving way to despair. I felt as though 
 my heart would really break ; all my firmness, all my 
 coolness, had deserted me ; my mind was unstrung ; 
 my reason slept. If any one had met me in that con- 
 dition they would have despised me, and turned away 
 in disgust. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 211 
 
 When the night dew, and the mountain breeze, 
 had refreshed my nerves, and I could collect my ideas, 
 I understood that it was as useless as mad to pursue 
 the happiness that was eluding my grasp. What do I 
 ask ? I said to myself ; to see her again : and why ? 
 Is not all over between us ? Would a melancholy fare- 
 well kiss add to the remembrance of our past bliss ? 
 Our separation will be only the more bitter. 
 
 However, I am glad that I can still weep ! It is 
 true that the agitation of my nerves — a sleepless night, 
 two minutes in face of a loaded pistol, and an empty 
 stomach, explain many things. 
 
 Everything is, then, for the best ! This new suffer- 
 ing will have made a diversion for me, to use a 
 military phrase. Tears are a relief ;• and if I had not 
 travelled fifteen versts, full gallop, and as many home 
 again, I should, probably, not have closed my eyes all 
 night. 
 
 At five in the morning, I was at Kislovodsk. I 
 threw myself on my bed, and slept the sleep of Napo- 
 leon after Waterloo. 
 
 When I awoke, it was already dark. I opened my 
 window, and unclosed my arkhalouky that the evening 
 air might refresh my breast. The rest which excess 
 of fatigue had procured me, had left me still agitated 
 and feverish. 
 
 In the distance, and beyond the river, through the 
 tops of the linden-trees which overshadowed it, I saw 
 the glitter of the lights of the fort and the village. Our 
 court was silent — there was no light at the Princess’s. 
 
212 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 The Doctor came in — he was gloomy ; and, con- 
 trary to his custom, he did not put out his hand. 
 
 “ Whence come you, Doctor ? ” 
 
 “ From the Princess’s. Her daughter is ill — it is her 
 nerves. But that is not what I have to say. The sus- 
 picions of the authorities are awake ; and although there 
 exist no decided proofs, I advise you to be on your 
 guard. The Princess knows that you fought about her 
 daughter ; she told me so to-day. The little old man 
 told her everything. How can one contradict him ? 
 he was witness to your quarrel with Grouchnitzky at 
 the hotel. I came to warn you. Adieu. Perhaps we 
 shall not see each other again, — they will send you 
 somewhere.” 
 
 He stopped upon the threshold ; he wished to 
 shake my hand ; and if I had shown the least wish to 
 lend myself to it, he would have thrown his arms around 
 my neck ; but I remained of flinty coldness. He left me. 
 
 Such are men ! They are all alike ; they know 
 beforehand what may be the consequences of an action ; 
 they aid you, they counsel you, contribute even to its 
 success ; because they do not see that anything better 
 could be done ; and then they wash their hands of it, 
 and turn away from him who has dared to take upon 
 himself the whole weight of the responsibility. They 
 will all do the same, even the best and the most 
 capable. 
 
 Next morning I received an order from head-quar- 
 ters to go to Fort N . I went to take leave of the 
 
 Princess. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 213 
 
 She appeared surprised. Having asked me if I had 
 nothing important to communicate to her, I contented 
 myself with replying, that I wished her all sorts of hap- 
 piness, and some other phrases of like significance. 
 
 “ And I,” replied she, “ have something serious to 
 say to you.” 
 
 I seated myself without uttering a word. 
 
 It was evident she did not know how to begin. 
 She coloured slightly, and rapped her thick fingers 
 upon the table. At length, with a faltering voice, she 
 commenced thus : — 
 
 Mr. Petchorin, I believe you to be a man of 
 honour.” 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 “ I am sure of it, I may say ; although your con- 
 duct may appear in a doubtful light : but you have, 
 perhaps, some motives that I ignore ; now, I think 
 you ought to confide in me. You have defended 
 my daughter against a calumnious imputation ; you 
 have fought for her ; you have risked your life. Do 
 not reply. I know you will not admit it, because 
 Grouchnitzky has fallen — (here she crossed herself). 
 Heaven have mercy on him, and on you ! I have no 
 right to interfere in that. I dare not blame you ; 
 because my daughter, very innocently, without doubt, 
 was the cause of this misfortune. She has told me 
 everything, I believe so, at least. You have declared 
 your love to her (she heaved a deep sigh). She has 
 confessed her’s to you. But she is ill ; and I am sure 
 that her illness is not an ordinary one ! Secret sorrows 
 
214 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 do not kill. She will not admit it, but I am con- 
 vinced that you are the cause of it. Now, listen ! 
 Perhaps you imagine that I require a title, opulence, — 
 undeceive yourself. I only wish for the happiness of my 
 daughter. Your present position in life is uncertain ; 
 but that can be arranged. A career is opened for you. 
 My daughter loves you ; she has been educated in a 
 manner to enable her to render her husband happy. 
 I am rich ; she is my only child ; tell me what with- 
 holds you ? You must see I would not speak to you 
 thus openly; but I rely on your affection — on your 
 honour. I repeat, I have but one daughter ! ” 
 
 She began to weep. 
 
 Princess,” I said, “ it is impossible for me to 
 answer you ; but permit me to have a moment’s inter- 
 view with your daughter.” 
 
 “ Never ! ” she exclaimed, rising from her seat, in 
 the most violent agitation. 
 
 “ As you will.” 
 
 I prepared to depart. 
 
 She reflected a moment — motioned with her hand 
 for me to wait, and left the room. 
 
 I waited five minutes. My heart beat ; but my 
 thoughts followed their uninterrupted course. My head 
 was cool. In vain I sounded the depths of my heart ; 
 I could not find in it one spark of love for the 
 graceful Mary. 
 
 The door opened ; she entered. Gracious Heavens ! 
 how she is changed ! and so quickly ! 
 
 When she had reached the middle of the room. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY. 
 
 215 
 
 she staggered. I sprung forward to assist her, and led 
 her to an arm-chair. 
 
 I stood up before her. We both remained silent. 
 Her large eyes, full of sadness, seemed to try to read, 
 in my countenance, something that might speak to her 
 of hope. A painful smile hovered over her pale lips ; her 
 fragile hands, folded on her knees, were so thin, that I 
 could not close my heart against a feeling of compassion. 
 
 ‘^Princess,” I said, “you know that all this has 
 been but a jest. You despise me, without doubt ? ” 
 
 A faint blush rose to her face. 
 
 “ And you cannot love me ? ’’ 
 
 She turned away, leaned her elbow on the table, 
 shading her eyes with her hand. It seemed to me she 
 wept. 
 
 “ God help me ! ” she said, faintly. 
 
 My position was becoming critical ; another mo- 
 ment, and I should have fallen at her feet. 
 
 “ You see, then, yourself,” I continued, with a firm 
 voice, and a forced smile, “ that it is impossible I 
 should marry you ; and, even if you desire it now, you 
 would soon repent of it. The conversation I have just 
 had with your mother rendered a frank and downright 
 explanation necessary. I believe the Princess to be 
 in error ; it will be easy for you to undeceive her. You 
 see how pitiful is the part I have acted. I admit 
 that it is — that is all I can do. However bad your 
 opinion of me, I submit to it. You see that it is 
 impossible to place myself lower in the scale. Is it not 
 true, that, had you loved me, you must now despise me ? ” 
 
216 
 
 THE PJEIINCESS MARY, 
 
 She turned round to me, pale as marble ; but her 
 eyes flashed fire. 
 
 “You have my hatred ! ’’ she said. 
 
 I thanked her ; and, bowing low, left the house. 
 
 An hour afterwards, I had left Kislovodsk ; whirled 
 rapidly away in a kibiltra, drawn by three horses. At 
 some versts from Essentoukof, I recognised, near the 
 road-side, the body of my horse. The saddle had been 
 carried ofi* — without doubt, by some Cossack. In its 
 place, I saw two crows at their work. I turned my 
 head away, and sighed. 
 
 Here, in this wearisome fort, I often recall to 
 mind all that has passed ; and ask myself, why I ne- 
 glected to follow the course indicated by destiny, and 
 which, had I taken, peaceful joys and tranquillity of 
 mind, would no doubt have awaited me. But I could 
 not have endured such a lot. I resemble a sailor, whose 
 first breath was drawn on board a pirate vessel, and 
 whose mind has been formed in the midst of tempests, 
 and the whistling of bullets : thrown upon the shore, he 
 feels weary and languid ; and, regardless of tufted groves, 
 and of the brilliant sunshine, he spends his time on the 
 beach, listening to the monotonous murmur of the 
 waves, and seeking to penetrate the hazy distance. In 
 the faint horizon, which separates the boundless sea 
 from the heavens, will he not discover the wished-for 
 sail, — at first sight, resembling the wing of a sea- 
 bird, then gradually becoming more distinct above 
 the foam of the waves, as, following a steady course, it 
 nears the solitary shore on which he stands ? 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 I WAS with a battalion of infantry on the left flank of 
 the army, in a colony of Don Cossacks. The ofiicers 
 used to assemble at the quarters of one or other among 
 them, and spend the evening in gambling. 
 
 One evening when hoston was voted a bore, being 
 tired of it, we threw our cards upon the table, and 
 remained chatting. This was at the Major’s. As a rare 
 occurrence, the conversation became rather interesting. 
 Some one made the observation, that the fatalism of 
 the Mahometans had partisans among ourselves; and 
 each related some anecdote, more or less striking, for 
 or against the assertion. 
 
 ‘‘ All this, gentlemen, proves nothing,” said the old 
 Major; “none of you have witnessed the facts which 
 you advance, as proofs of your argument.” 
 
 “Of course not,” the others replied; “but these 
 have been attested by persons incapable of perverting 
 the truth.” 
 
 “ Folly ! ” said one among us. “ Who has seen the 
 register in which is inscribed the hour of our death ? 
 
 o 
 
218 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 And were there really such a thing as predestination, 
 what would become of our will, and what would be the 
 use of our judgment ? According to this hypothesis, 
 we should no longer be responsible for our actions.” 
 
 At these words, an officer, who was seated in a cor- 
 ner of the room, rose, and slowly approached the table. 
 Every one was struck by the solemn expression of his 
 countenance. He was a Servian, as his name indicated. 
 
 Lieutenant Boulitch’s personal appearance was in 
 perfect harmony with his character and disposition. 
 Tall in stature, the bronzed complexion, the black hair, 
 the piercing eyes (also jet black), the long straight 
 nose (one of the characteristic nationalities of his race), 
 the cold, sad smile that constantly curled his lips, — 
 altogether gave one the idea of a being of a different 
 class from those around him ; and as incapable of 
 sharing their ideas or their passions. 
 
 He was brave : he said little, but his words were 
 always to the point. He had never mentioned to living 
 mortal a single circumstance relative to his family, or 
 his private life. He scarcely touched wine ; and as to 
 the young Cossack girls, who should be seen to be ap- 
 preciated at their due value, he had never addressed to 
 one among them, a single phrase of love or gallantry. 
 It was said, nevertheless, that the Colonel’s wife was 
 not insensible to the glance of his large black eyes ; but 
 he became really angry whenever that subject was men- 
 tioned. He had, however, a passion which he openly 
 avowed: that of gaming. Before a card table, he forgot 
 everything ; he lost frequently ; but his constant ill luck 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 219 
 
 appeared only to excite him the more. One night, 
 when we were employed upon a very serious expedition? 
 he absolutely got up a bank upon the parapet. He had 
 an extraordinary run of luck. All at once, the firing 
 commenced : every one flew to arms. 
 
 “ Put into the bank ? ” said Boulitch, to one of the 
 most ardent gamblers. 
 
 “Well, seven ! ’’ said the latter, as he ran off. 
 
 Boulitch, cool and imperturbable in the midst of 
 this tumult, dealt out the cards. The seven turned. 
 
 When he came up with the combatants, the affair 
 was serious. Without heeding the bullets, or the 
 scimitars of the Tchetchenetzes, he sought out the 
 staker. 
 
 “ The seven has turned up!’’ he cried out, on seeing 
 him, at length, among some sharpshooters, who were 
 just beginning to dislodge the enemy from a thicket, in 
 which they had taken up their post. He went up to 
 his man, drew out his purse and his pocket-book, and 
 quietly paid him. After having discharged this debt, he 
 chose his post on the field of battle ; and never ceased 
 firing till the affair was ended. 
 
 When we saw Lieutenant Boulitch approach the 
 table, every one of us remained silent, in the expecta- 
 tion of hearing some original remark. 
 
 “ Gentlemen,” he said, in a calm voice, but rather 
 below his usual pitch, “ to what can all these vain dis- 
 cussions lead ? You want proofs. I propose that you 
 should make on me a trial of the following question : — 
 Can man dispose of his life at will, or is the hour of 
 
220 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 his death fixed by fate alone ? Who will submit to the 
 trial?’’ 
 
 Not I ! — nor I ! ” was heard on all sides. “ That 
 is a strange fancy.” 
 
 “ I propose a bet,” said I, laughing. 
 
 ‘‘What bet?” 
 
 “ I maintain that there is no such thing as predes- 
 tination,” I replied, throwing a score of ducats down 
 on the table ; it was all the money I had about me. 
 
 “ I accept the wager,” said Boulitch, in a low voice. 
 “ Major, you shall be the judge ; here are fifteen 
 ducats ; you owe me the five others, and I beg of you 
 to complete the sum.” 
 
 “ Very well,” said the Major ; “ but I confess I don’t 
 know the point you dispute, nor how you will decide 
 the question.” 
 
 Without uttering a word, Boulitch left the room, 
 and walked straight into the Major’s bedroom : we 
 followed him. He went up to the wall, against which 
 were suspended arms of every calibre ; from among 
 these he took, at hazard, a pistol. 
 
 We did not understand what he could mean ; but 
 when he had loaded and cocked the pistol, several of 
 us cried out, and endeavoured to stay his arm. 
 
 “ What are you about ? But this is madness ! ” 
 
 “ Gentlemen,” said he, slowly, “ which of you will 
 pay the twenty ducats for me, that I have wagered?” 
 
 All withdrew, without saying a word ! 
 
 Boulitch next went into another room, and sat down 
 at a table. We all suiTOunded him. He motioned to 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 221 
 
 US to remain in that position, which we did, still keep- 
 ing silence. At this moment he exercised over us an 
 inexplicable influence. I never took my eyes ofl* him, 
 and he gazed at me quietly, while a faint smile played 
 on his pale lips. Notwithstanding his calmness and 
 self-possession, it seemed to me that the stamp of death 
 was on his countenance. I have remarked, and many 
 old officers have confirmed my observation, that a man 
 who is destined, within a few hours, to die a violent 
 death, wears upon his face a deathlike expression, that 
 never deceives a practised eye. 
 
 ‘'You will die to-night ! ’’ I said to him. He turned 
 abruptly towards me, but he answered calmly, I may, 
 or may not.’’ Then, addressing the Major, he asked 
 whether the pistol was loaded. 
 
 The Major was agitated, and could not well re- 
 member. 
 
 “ That’s enough, Boulitch,” said one of us ; “ of 
 course it’s loaded : the manner in which it was hung 
 up showed it. Why go on with this jest ?” 
 
 “ You could scarcely hit upon a worse,” said an- 
 other. 
 
 “ Fifty roubles to five,” said a third, “ that the pis- 
 tol is not loaded.” 
 
 The wager was accepted. 
 
 All these delays irritated me, 
 
 “Listen!” I said. “Either fire, or else put the 
 pistol in its place, and go to bed.” 
 
 “ Quite right,” said several; “ let’s go to bed.” 
 
 “ Gentlemen,” said Boulitch, “ I beg of you not to 
 
222 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 move.’^ And he put the barrel of the pistol to his 
 forehead. 
 
 We were petrified. 
 
 “ Mr. Petchorin,” he said to me, take a card, and 
 throw it up in the air.’’ 
 
 I took from the table the ace of hearts, and threw 
 it up. We could scarcely breathe. All our counten- 
 ances expressed terror; and, at the same time, a 
 sentiment of painful curiosity, as we glanced from the 
 pistol to the fatal card, which turned upon itself and 
 fell slowly on the table : scarcely had it touched it, 
 when Boulitch pulled the trigger. 
 
 It missed fire. 
 
 Heaven be praised !” exclaimed several officers; 
 the pistol was not loaded.” 
 
 That’s what we shall see,” said Boulitch. 
 
 He re- cocked it ; aimed at a cap that was hung up 
 near the window. The pistol went off. The room was 
 filled with smoke : when it had cleared away, we looked 
 at the cap. ' It was pierced entirely through, and the 
 bullet was lodged in the wall. 
 
 During some minutes, no one could articulate a word. 
 Boulitch, in the quietest way in the world, put my 
 ducats into his pocket. 
 
 Some asked, why the pistol had missed fire the first 
 time ; others concluded that the touch-hole was stopped 
 up ; others, again, insinuated that the powder, the first 
 time of firing, was damp, and that Boulitch had recharged 
 the weapon for the second attempt. But I maintained 
 that this last supposition had no foundation, for, during 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 223 
 
 the whole transaction, I had never taken my eyes ofi‘ 
 the pistol. 
 
 “You are lucky at play,” said I to Boulitch. 
 
 “For the first time in my life,” replied he, with a 
 smile of satisfaction. “ I have been more fortunate in 
 this, than at the faro^ or at vingt-et-un.'^^ 
 
 “The chances were also rather more dangerous.” 
 
 “ Well, do you begin to believe in predestination ?” 
 
 “ I believe in it ! Only, I can^t make out why I 
 should have felt persuaded that you were at the point 
 of death.” 
 
 This very man, who had so coolly exposed himself 
 to an apparently certain death, became suddenly con- 
 fused, and changed countenance. 
 
 “That’s enough,” he said, rising, “the wager is 
 won ; and your observations are now superfluous.” He 
 took his cap, and left the house. I was struck by the 
 impression I had thus produced on Boulitch, and not 
 without reason. 
 
 The officers went to their several quarters, speaking 
 of the evening’s adventure; and, probably, imputing to 
 me as a crime, the making a wager, the stake of which 
 was the life of a man, as if Boulitch could not have 
 killed himself, if he wished it, without my interference. 
 
 I set out for home, passing through all sorts of 
 deserted lanes. The moon was at its full, and of a red 
 tinge that resembled the reflection of a fire ; she had 
 just risen behind the jagged ridges of the house-tops ; 
 the stars shone peacefully forth from the deep blue sky. 
 I smiled as I remembered that sages had once be- 
 
224 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 lieved that these orbs exercised a fatal influence 
 over our miserable quarrels about the possession of a spot 
 of earth, or what men call their rights. These lights, 
 kindled, according to them, to shine on struggles and 
 on triumphs, still burn with the same splendour, while 
 the passions and the hopes have long since passed away 
 with the men whom they animated ! The celestial lu- 
 minaries were to be, as fires kindled on the skirts of 
 a wood, to serve as guides for the wandering travel- 
 ler ! But, then, what moral force, what power of vo- 
 lition, would one not acquire by the conviction that the 
 centre sphere of heaven, with its innumerable hosts of 
 worlds, watched over the interests of men, and followed 
 them with unalterable, though mute sympathy ? 
 
 And we, their unworthy descendants, who crawl 
 upon the earth without aim and without pride, 
 without enjoyment, without fear, except that which 
 involuntarily pervades the heart, at the idea of an 
 inevitable end, — we are no longer capable of great 
 sacrifices, for the happiness either of humanity, 
 or of ourselves, because we know and feel that that 
 happiness is impossible. We float along the depths of 
 our indifference, from one doubt to another, as our 
 fathers used to pass from error to error, without either 
 the hope . that sustained them, or that keen, although 
 vague pleasure, which it is the privilege of the strong 
 to experience in every struggle, against their fellow- 
 creatures, or against fate. 
 
 A host of ideas of this description floated across my 
 brain, but which I have not retained, because I do not 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 225 
 
 like to give way to these abstract theories. And, in good 
 earnest, to what can they lead ? In my early youth, I 
 was inclined to be a dreamer ; I loved to caress, each in 
 its turn, the dark or smiling images that my wild im- 
 agination conjured into existence. What did I reap 
 from this habit ? Nothing but that lassitude that one 
 experiences after wrestling with the phantom of a 
 dream — only sad and bitter recollections. 
 
 In these vain struggles, I have exhausted all the 
 energy of my soul, all that force of the will, which is in- 
 dispensable to the transactions of active life. I had 
 scarcely passed the threshold of existence, when I had in 
 imagination experienced all its casualties ; while still a 
 youth, I was fatigued and disgusted with everything, 
 like an old man. My disgust was that of a man who 
 examines the bad imitation of a work, with the original 
 of which he is familiar. 
 
 The events of the evening had made a deep impres- 
 sion on me; my nerves were shaken. I know not 
 whether, at this day, I believe in fatalism, but I am cer- 
 tain I believed in it at that moment : the proof was 
 decisive ; and although I hkd laughed at our ancestors, 
 and their complacent astrological system, I had fallen 
 into the same track. But I stopped myself in time upon 
 this perilous road ; and, as I hold it as a principle never 
 to adopt nor to reject anything blindfoldedly, I threw 
 aside metaphysics, to look at the path that lay before 
 me, in sober reality. It was well I did ; I was within 
 an ace of falling over something large and soft, and 
 which appeared to be inanimate. I stooped to look at 
 
226 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 it. The moon shone down at that moment upon the 
 road : I discovered a newly-killed boar. Almost at 
 the same instant, I heard a sound of steps ; — two Cos- 
 sacks came running forth from a neighbouring lane. 
 One of them approached me, and asked whether I had 
 seen a drunken Cossack running after a boar. I told 
 them I had not seen the Cossack, but showed them the 
 victim of his warlike intentions. 
 
 The scoundrel ! ’’ said the other Cossack ; “ when 
 he has drunk too much new wine, he knows no one nor 
 what he is about. Let’s run after him, Jeremeitch ; 
 we must bind him hand and foot.” 
 
 They hurried off ; and I continued my walk towards 
 home, with greater circumspection. At last I arrived, 
 safe and sound. I lodged with an Ouriadnik, whom I 
 liked for his goodnature, and because of Nastia, his 
 daughter, who was pretty. As usual, she was. waiting 
 for me near the little door, wrapped in her pelisse ; the 
 moonlight shone on her pretty lips, that the cold had 
 made pale. On recognising me, she smiled ; but I was 
 not in the humour to take notice of her. 
 
 “ Good night, Nastia ! ” I said, as I passed the 
 young girl. She wished to say something in answer ; 
 but she contented herself with sighing. 
 
 I shut the door of my room after me, lighted my 
 candle, and threw myself on the' bed. The day began 
 to dawn before .1 even closed my eyes ; but, without 
 doubt, it was written in the Book of Fate, that this 
 night was to be passed by me without rest. At about 
 four in the morning, there was a knocking at my 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 227 
 
 window. I started up to see what could be the 
 matter. 
 
 ‘‘Get up! dress yourself!” they called out from 
 the street. 
 
 I dressed in haste, and went out. 
 
 “ Do you know what has taken place ?” said three 
 officers, all at once ; looking quite pale and horror- 
 stricken. 
 
 “ What is it ? ” I inquired. 
 
 “ Boulitch is dead ! ” 
 
 I remained as one petrified. 
 
 “ Yes ; he has been killed. Come quickly.” 
 
 “ Where are you going ? ” 
 
 “We will tell you as we go along.” 
 
 We set off. They told me all the particulars of 
 this catastrophe ; not without dwelling on the strange 
 fatality, which, in the evening, had saved Boulitch 
 from an almost certain death, to sacrifice him half-an- 
 hour later. 
 
 He was walking in a dark street, when he met a 
 drunken Cossack, who had just killed a boar ; perhaps 
 the man would have passed by without remarking him, 
 if Boulitch had not said to him : “ My friend, whom 
 are you seeking ? ” 
 
 And the Cossack dealt him such a furious blow 
 with his sword, that he cut him open from the shoulder 
 to the heart. The two Cossacks that I had met, and 
 who were following the murderer, ran up and raised 
 the wounded man, just as he was breathing his last ; 
 he had but strength enough to utter these words : — 
 “ He was right.” 
 
228 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 I alone understood the hidden sense of these words, 
 which alluded to my involuntary prediction. My in- 
 stinct had not deceived me, in revealing to me, in his 
 face, the signs of approaching death. 
 
 The murderer had shut himself up in an empty 
 house : thither we went. Women were there, moaning, 
 in great numbers. Every now and then the Cossack 
 would run into the street, with a dagger in his hand ; 
 at our approach, he ran away. The confusion was at 
 its height. 
 
 When we arrived, a crowd surrounded the cabin, 
 both the doors and windows of which were fastened in- 
 side. The officers and the Cossacks exchanged a few 
 energetic words. The women wept, and made their 
 several comments. Among them, I remarked the face 
 of an old woman, which expressed deep and real sor- 
 row : it was the mother of the murderer. From time 
 to time, by the movement of her lips, one might have 
 thought she was praying: perhaps she was mut- 
 tering curses. 
 
 However, it was necessary to decide something, 
 and to seize the culprit. None dared be the first to 
 come forward. I approached the window, and looked 
 through a chink in the shutter. The Cossack was 
 lying upon the floor, looking very pale, and holding 
 a pistol in his right hand; his scimitar, still drip- 
 ping with blood, lay beside him. He rolled his eyes, 
 with an awful expression ; sometimes, seized with a 
 convulsive shudder, he pressed his head, as if try- 
 ing to remember his crime. I thought I remarked 
 a degree of indecision in his haggard look ; and said 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 229 
 
 to the Major, that the best thing to do, would be, to 
 force the door, and to take the criminal, without giving 
 him time to come properly to his senses. 
 
 At this moment an old Cossack came up, and called 
 him by his name ; the other replied. 
 
 ‘‘You have committed a fault, my dear Ephimitch,” 
 said the old man ; “ you must submit.” 
 
 “ I will not submit ! ” said the Cossack. 
 
 “ Do not offend God ! You are not one of those 
 cursed Tchetchenetzes, but a Christian. If you have let 
 yourself be led astray and commit a crime, the only 
 thing you can now do, is to accept the consequences.” 
 
 “ I will not surrender myself!” replied the Cos- 
 sack, in a menacing tone ; and we could hear him cock- 
 ing his pistol. 
 
 “ Halloo ! Mother, there ! ” said the old Cossack, 
 “ will you be so good as to speak to your son ? perhaps 
 he may listen to you ! All this delay is but sinful in the 
 sight of Heaven 1 And these gentlemen have been 
 waiting fully two hours.” 
 
 The old woman stared at him, and shook her head. 
 
 “Vazzili Petrovitch,” said the old Cossack, ap- 
 proaching the Major, “ he will not surrender himself ; 
 I know him well ; and if we break open the door, he 
 will despatch more than one of us. Would it not be bet- 
 ter to shoot him through the opening of the shutter ? ” 
 
 Then, there came into my head a strange idea ; like 
 Boulitch, I had a wish to tempt fate. 
 
 “ Wait ! ” said I to the Major; “ I will take him 
 alive.” I told the old Cossack to call off his attention 
 
230 
 
 THE FATALIST. 
 
 from me by speaking to him ; and, after having posted 
 three men at the door, with orders to kill him, or to come 
 to my help, at the first sign, I walked round the hut, 
 and approached the fatal window. My heart beat. 
 
 “You brute!” cried the old Cossack. “Do you 
 intend to keep us here much longer ? You think we 
 shall not be able to manage you ? ” 
 
 And he began to batter at the door with all his might. 
 
 I observed, through the crack of the shutter, all 
 the movements of the Cossack, who was far from sus- 
 pecting that the attack would come from that side. 
 All at once I forced back the shutter, and leaped into the 
 room. A shot was heard, — the ball had grazed my 
 ear, and torn my epaulette ; but the smoke of the 
 powder prevented the Cossack from immediately finding 
 his scimitar. I seized his arm ; the soldiers laid hold 
 of him ; and, in three minutes, he was chained, and 
 led away, well escorted. The lookers-on dispersed ; 
 and I received the congratulations of the officers ; in 
 truth, there was cause for them. 
 
 After this, how can one help being a fatalist ! But 
 who can be convinced, that he ought, or ought not, to 
 do such and such a thing ? How often do we not take, 
 as a proof, what is only an error of the senses, or of 
 judgment ? I love to doubt everything ; this disposi- 
 tion does not prevent decision of character : far from 
 it, — at least, as to myself; I advance with the more 
 resolution, because I ignore what awaits me. What 
 can happen to me worse than death ? Can one avoid 
 death ? 
 
THE FATALIST. 
 
 231 
 
 On returning to the fort, I related to Maximus Maxi- 
 mitch all that had happened, and the scene I had 
 witnessed ; I wished to hear what he thought about 
 fatalism. 
 
 At first, he did not know the meaning of the word ; 
 but when I had explained it to him, he said, shaliing 
 his head, 
 
 ‘‘ Well ! yes ! undoubtedly it ’s a mysterious thing ! 
 However, these arms — Asiatic arms — often miss fire. 
 When they are badly greased, or one does not press 
 the trigger strongly enough. I confess that I do not 
 much like Circassian carbines ; it’s a weapon that does 
 not suit us — the butt- end is too small ; and if one does 
 not take care, the powder may burn one’s nose. As 
 to their scimitars, all that I can say is, that I respect 
 them infinitely.” 
 
 After a moment’s pause, he added, 
 
 ‘‘ This poor fellow ! the devil prompted him to 
 accost a drunkard. However, it was, without doubt, 
 written above, from the time of his birth ! ” 
 
 I could get nothing else out of him. Metaphysics 
 are not his fort. 
 
 UENIIY VIZETELLY, PRINTER AND ENGRAVER, GOUGH SQUARE, FLEET STREET. 
 
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