A Hero of Our Time

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by Mikhail Iurevich Lermontov


  CHAPTER VI

  "AS things fell out, however," continued Maksim Maksimych, "I was right,you see. The presents produced only half an effect. She becamemore gracious more trustful--but that was all. Pechorin accordinglydetermined upon a last expedient. One morning he ordered his horse to besaddled, dressed himself as a Circassian, armed himself, and went intoher room.

  "'Bela,' he said. 'You know how I love you. I decided to carry you off,thinking that when you grew to know me you would give me your love.I was mistaken. Farewell! Remain absolute mistress of all I possess.Return to your father if you like--you are free. I have actedwrongfully towards you, and I must punish myself. Farewell! I am going.Whither?--How should I know? Perchance I shall not have long to courtthe bullet or the sabre-stroke. Then remember me and forgive.'

  "He turned away, and stretched out his hand to her in farewell. She didnot take his hand, but remained silent. But I, standing there behind thedoor, was able through a chink to observe her countenance, and I feltsorry for her--such a deathly pallor shrouded that charming little face!Hearing no answer, Pechorin took a few steps towards the door. He wastrembling, and--shall I tell you?--I think that he was in a state toperform in very fact what he had been saying in jest! He was just thatsort of man, Heaven knows!

  "He had scarcely touched the door, however, when Bela sprang to herfeet, burst out sobbing, and threw herself on his neck! Would youbelieve it? I, standing there behind the door, fell to weeping too,that is to say, you know, not exactly weeping--but just--well, somethingfoolish!"

  The staff-captain became silent.

  "Yes, I confess," he said after a while, tugging at his moustache, "Ifelt hurt that not one woman had ever loved me like that."

  "Was their happiness lasting?" I asked.

  "Yes, she admitted that, from the day she had first cast eyes onPechorin, she had often dreamed of him, and that no other man had everproduced such an impression upon her. Yes, they were happy!"

  "How tiresome!" I exclaimed, involuntarily.

  In point of fact, I had been expecting a tragic ending--when, lo! hemust needs disappoint my hopes in such an unexpected manner!...

  "Is it possible, though," I continued, "that her father did not guessthat she was with you in the fortress?"

  "Well, you must know, he seems to have had his suspicions. After a fewdays, we learned that the old man had been murdered. This is how ithappened."...

  My attention was aroused anew.

  "I must tell you that Kazbich imagined that the horse had been stolen byAzamat with his father's consent; at any rate, that is what I suppose.So, one day, Kazbich went and waited by the roadside, about three verstsbeyond the village. The old man was returning from one of his futilesearches for his daughter; his retainers were lagging behind. It wasdusk. Deep in thought, he was riding at a walking pace when, suddenly,Kazbich darted out like a cat from behind a bush, sprang up behindhim on the horse, flung him to the ground with a thrust of his dagger,seized the bridle and was off. A few of the retainers saw the wholeaffair from the hill; they dashed off in pursuit of Kazbich, but failedto overtake him."

  "He requited himself for the loss of his horse, and took his revenge atthe same time," I said, with a view to evoking my companion's opinion.

  "Of course, from their point of view," said the staff-captain, "he wasperfectly right."

  I was involuntarily struck by the aptitude which the Russian displaysfor accommodating himself to the customs of the people in whose midsthe happens to be living. I know not whether this mental quality isdeserving of censure or commendation, but it proves the incrediblepliancy of his mind and the presence of that clear common sense whichpardons evil wherever it sees that evil is inevitable or impossible ofannihilation.

 

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