A Hero of Our Time

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by Mikhail Iurevich Lermontov


  CHAPTER VIII

  "ALL is for the best," I said, sitting down close by the fire. "Now youwill finish telling me your story about Bela. I am certain that what youhave already told me was not the end of it."

  "Why are you so certain?" answered the staff-captain, winking andsmiling slyly.

  "Because things don't happen like that. A story with such an unusualbeginning must also have an unusual ending."

  "You have guessed, of course"...

  "I am very glad to hear it."

  "It is all very well for you to be glad, but, indeed, it makes mesad when I think of it. Bela was a splendid girl. In the end I grewaccustomed to her just as if she had been my own daughter, and she lovedme. I must tell you that I have no family. I have had no news of myfather and mother for twelve years or so, and, in my earlier days, Inever thought of providing myself with a wife--and now, you know, itwouldn't do. So I was glad to have found someone to spoil. She used tosing to us or dance the Lezginka. [17].. And what a dancer she was! Ihave seen our own ladies in provincial society; and on one occasion,sir, about twenty years ago, I was even in the Nobles' Club atMoscow--but was there a woman to be compared with her? Not one! GrigoriAleksandrovich dressed her up like a doll, petted and pampered her, andit was simply astonishing to see how pretty she grew while she livedwith us. The sunburn disappeared from her face and hands, and a rosycolour came into her cheeks... What a merry girl she was! Always makingfun of me, the little rogue!... Heaven forgive her!"

  "And when you told her of her father's death?"

  "We kept it a secret from her for a long time, until she had grownaccustomed to her position; and then, when she was told, she cried for aday or two and forgot all about it.

  "For four months or so everything went on as well as it possiblycould. Grigori Aleksandrovich, as I think I have already mentioned, waspassionately fond of hunting; he was always craving to be off into theforest after boars or wild goats--but now it would be as much as hewould do to go beyond the fortress rampart. All at once, however, I sawthat he was beginning again to have fits of abstraction, walking abouthis room with his hands clasped behind his back. One day after that,without telling anyone, he set off shooting. During the whole morninghe was not to be seen; then the same thing happened another time, and soon--oftener and oftener...

  "'This looks bad!' I said to myself. 'Something must have come betweenthem!'

  "One morning I paid them a visit--I can see it all in my mind's eye, asif it was happening now. Bela was sitting on the bed, wearing a blacksilk jacket, and looking rather pale and so sad that I was alarmed.

  "'Where is Pechorin?' I asked.

  "'Hunting.'

  "'When did he go--to-day?'

  "'She was silent, as if she found a difficulty in answering.

  "'No, he has been gone since yesterday,' she said at length, with aheavy sigh.

  "'Surely nothing has happened to him!'

  "'Yesterday I thought and thought the whole day,' she answered throughher tears; 'I imagined all sorts of misfortunes. At one time I fanciedthat he had been wounded by a wild boar, at another time, that he hadbeen carried off by a Chechene into the mountains... But, now, I havecome to think that he no longer loves me.'

  "'In truth, my dear girl, you could not have imagined anything worse!'

  "She burst out crying; then, proudly raising her head, she wiped awaythe tears and continued:

  "'If he does not love me, then who prevents him sending me home? I amnot putting any constraint on him. But, if things go on like this, Iwill go away myself--I am not a slave, I am a prince's daughter!'...

  "I tried to talk her over.

  "'Listen, Bela. You see it is impossible for him to stop in here withyou for ever, as if he was sewn on to your petticoat. He is a young manand fond of hunting. Off he'll go, but you will find that he will comeback; and, if you are going to be unhappy, you will soon make him tiredof you.'

  "'True, true!' she said. 'I will be merry.'

  "And with a burst of laughter, she seized her tambourine, began to sing,dance, and gambol around me. But that did not last long either; she fellupon the bed again and buried her face in her hands.

  "What could I do with her? You know I have never been accustomed tothe society of women. I thought and thought how to cheer her up, butcouldn't hit on anything. For some time both of us remained silent... Amost unpleasant situation, sir!

  "At length I said to her:

  "'Would you like us to go and take a walk on the rampart? The weather issplendid.'

  "This was in September, and indeed it was a wonderful day, bright andnot too hot. The mountains could be seen as clearly as though they werebut a hand's-breadth away. We went, and walked in silence to and froalong the rampart of the fortress. At length she sat down on the sward,and I sat beside her. In truth, now, it is funny to think of it all! Iused to run after her just like a kind of children's nurse!

  "Our fortress was situated in a lofty position, and the view from therampart was superb. On one side, the wide clearing, seamed by a fewclefts, was bounded by the forest which stretched out to the very ridgeof the mountains. Here and there, on the clearing, villages were to beseen sending forth their smoke, and there were droves of horses roamingabout. On the other side flowed a tiny stream, and close to its bankscame the dense undergrowth which covered the flinty heights joining theprincipal chain of the Caucasus. We sat in a corner of the bastion, sothat we could see everything on both sides. Suddenly I perceivedsomeone on a grey horse riding out of the forest; nearer and nearer heapproached until finally he stopped on the far side of the river, abouta hundred fathoms from us, and began to wheel his horse round and roundlike one possessed. 'Strange!' I thought.

  "'Look, look, Bela,' I said, 'you've got young eyes--what sort of ahorseman is that? Who is it he has come to amuse?'...

  "'It is Kazbich!' she exclaimed after a glance.

  "'Ah, the robber! Come to laugh at us, has he?'

  "I looked closely, and sure enough it was Kazbich, with his swarthyface, and as ragged and dirty as ever.

  "'It is my father's horse!' said Bela, seizing my arm.

  "She was trembling like a leaf and her eyes were sparkling.

  "'Aha!' I said to myself. 'There is robber's blood in your veins still,my dear!'

  "'Come here,' I said to the sentry. 'Look to your gun and unhorse thatgallant for me--and you shall have a silver ruble.'

  "'Very well, your honour, only he won't keep still.'

  "'Tell him to!' I said, with a laugh.

  "'Hey, friend!' cried the sentry, waving his hand. 'Wait a bit. What areyou spinning round like a humming-top for?'

  "Kazbich halted and gave ear to the sentry--probably thinking that wewere going to parley with him. Quite the contrary!... My grenadier tookaim... Bang!... Missed!... Just as the powder flashed in the pan Kazbichjogged his horse, which gave a bound to one side. He stood up in hisstirrups, shouted something in his own language, made a threateninggesture with his whip--and was off.

  "'Aren't you ashamed of yourself?' I said to the sentry.

  "'He has gone away to die, your honour,' he answered. 'There's nokilling a man of that cursed race at one stroke.'

  "A quarter of an hour later Pechorin returned from hunting. Belathrew herself on his neck without a single complaint, without a singlereproach for his lengthy absence!... Even I was angry with him by thistime!

  "'Good heavens!' I said; 'why, I tell you, Kazbich was here on the otherside of the river just a moment ago, and we shot at him. How easilyyou might have run up against him, you know! These mountaineers are avindictive race! Do you suppose he does not guess that you gave Azamatsome help? And I wager that he recognised Bela to-day! I know he wasdesperately fond of her a year ago--he told me so himself--and, if hehad had any hope of getting together a proper bridegroom's gift, hewould certainly have sought her in marriage.'

  "At this Pechorin became thoughtful.

  "'Yes,' he answered. 'We must be more cautious--Bela, from this dayfor
th you mustn't walk on the rampart any more.'

  "In the evening I had a lengthy explanation with him. I was vexed thathis feelings towards the poor girl had changed; to say nothing of hisspending half the day hunting, his manner towards her had become cold.He rarely caressed her, and she was beginning perceptibly to pine away;her little face was becoming drawn, her large eyes growing dim.

  "'What are you sighing for, Bela?' I would ask her. 'Are you sad?'

  "'No!'

  "'Do you want anything?'

  "'No!'

  "'You are pining for your kinsfolk?'

  "'I have none!'

  "Sometimes for whole days not a word could be drawn from her but 'Yes'and 'No.'

  "So I straightway proceeded to talk to Pechorin about her."

 

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