CHAPTER XVII. 26th June.
YESTERDAY, the conjurer Apfelbaum arrived here. A long placard made itsappearance on the door of the restaurant, informing the most respectedpublic that the above-mentioned marvellous conjurer, acrobat, chemist,and optician would have the honour to give a magnificent performance onthe present day at eight o'clock in the evening, in the saloon of theNobles' Club (in other words, the restaurant); tickets--two rubles and ahalf each.
Everyone intends to go and see the marvellous conjurer; even PrincessLigovski has taken a ticket for herself, in spite of her daughter beingill.
After dinner to-day, I walked past Vera's windows; she was sitting byherself on the balcony. A note fell at my feet:
"Come to me at ten o'clock this evening by the large staircase. Myhusband has gone to Pyatigorsk and will not return before to-morrowmorning. My servants and maids will not be at home; I have distributedtickets to all of them, and to the princess's servants as well. I awaityou; come without fail."
"Aha!" I said to myself, "so then it has turned out at last as I thoughtit would."
At eight o'clock I went to see the conjurer. The public assembled beforethe stroke of nine. The performance began. On the back rows of chairsI recognized Vera's and Princess Ligovski's menservants and maids. Theywere all there, every single one. Grushnitski, with his lorgnette, wassitting in the front row, and the conjurer had recourse to him everytime he needed a handkerchief, a watch, a ring and so forth.
For some time past, Grushnitski has ceased to bow to me, and to-dayhe has looked at me rather insolently once or twice. It will all beremembered to him when we come to settle our scores.
Before ten o'clock had struck, I stood up and went out.
It was dark outside, pitch dark. Cold, heavy clouds were lying on thesummit of the surrounding mountains, and only at rare intervals didthe dying breeze rustle the tops of the poplars which surroundedthe restaurant. People were crowding at the windows. I went down themountain and, turning in under the gate, I hastened my pace. Suddenly itseemed to me that somebody was following my steps. I stopped and lookedround. It was impossible to make out anything in the darkness. However,out of caution, I walked round the house, as if taking a stroll. PassingPrincess Mary's windows, I again heard steps behind me; a man wrapped ina cloak ran by me. That rendered me uneasy, but I crept up to the flightof steps, and hastily mounted the dark staircase. A door opened, and alittle hand seized mine...
"Nobody has seen you?" said Vera in a whisper, clinging to me.
"Nobody."
"Now do you believe that I love you? Oh! I have long hesitated, longtortured myself... But you can do anything you like with me."
Her heart was beating violently, her hands were cold as ice. She brokeout into complaints and jealous reproaches. She demanded that I shouldconfess everything to her, saying that she would bear my faithlessnesswith submission, because her sole desire was that I should be happy. Idid not quite believe that, but I calmed her with oaths, promises and soon.
"So you will not marry Mary? You do not love her?... But she thinks...Do you know, she is madly in love with you, poor girl!"...
*****
About two o'clock in the morning I opened the window and, tying twoshawls together, I let myself down from the upper balcony to the lower,holding on by the pillar. A light was still burning in Princess Mary'sroom. Something drew me towards that window. The curtain was not quitedrawn, and I was able to cast a curious glance into the interior of theroom. Mary was sitting on her bed, her hands crossed upon her knees;her thick hair was gathered up under a lace-frilled nightcap; her whiteshoulders were covered by a large crimson kerchief, and her little feetwere hidden in a pair of many-coloured Persian slippers. She was sittingquite still, her head sunk upon her breast; on a little table in frontof her was an open book; but her eyes, fixed and full of inexpressiblegrief, seemed for the hundredth time to be skimming the same page whilsther thoughts were far away.
At that moment somebody stirred behind a shrub. I leaped from thebalcony on to the sward. An invisible hand seized me by the shoulder.
"Aha!" said a rough voice: "caught!... I'll teach you to be enteringprincesses' rooms at night!"
"Hold him fast!" exclaimed another, springing out from a corner.
It was Grushnitski and the captain of dragoons.
I struck the latter on the head with my fist, knocked him off his feet,and darted into the bushes. All the paths of the garden which coveredthe slope opposite our houses were known to me.
"Thieves, guard!"... they cried.
A gunshot rang out; a smoking wad fell almost at my feet.
Within a minute I was in my own room, undressed and in bed. Mymanservant had only just locked the door when Grushnitski and thecaptain began knocking for admission.
"Pechorin! Are you asleep? Are you there?"... cried the captain.
"I am in bed," I answered angrily.
"Get up! Thieves!... Circassians!"...
"I have a cold," I answered. "I am afraid of catching a chill."
They went away. I had gained no useful purpose by answering them: theywould have been looking for me in the garden for another hour or so.
Meanwhile the alarm became terrific. A Cossack galloped up from thefortress. The commotion was general; Circassians were looked for inevery shrub--and of course none were found. Probably, however, a goodmany people were left with the firm conviction that, if only morecourage and despatch had been shown by the garrison, at least a score ofbrigands would have failed to get away with their lives.
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