A Hero of Our Time
Page 33
CHAPTER XVIII. 27th June.
THIS morning, at the well, the sole topic of conversation was thenocturnal attack by the Circassians. I drank the appointed number ofglasses of Narzan water, and, after sauntering a few times about thelong linden avenue, I met Vera's husband, who had just arrived fromPyatigorsk. He took my arm and we went to the restaurant for breakfast.He was dreadfully uneasy about his wife.
"What a terrible fright she had last night," he said. "Of course, it wasbound to happen just at the very time when I was absent."
We sat down to breakfast near the door leading into a corner-room inwhich about a dozen young men were sitting. Grushnitski was amongstthem. For the second time destiny provided me with the opportunity ofoverhearing a conversation which was to decide his fate. He did notsee me, and, consequently, it was impossible for me to suspect him ofdesign; but that only magnified his fault in my eyes.
"Is it possible, though, that they were really Circassians?" somebodysaid. "Did anyone see them?"
"I will tell you the whole truth," answered Grushnitski: "only please donot betray me. This is how it was: yesterday, a certain man, whose nameI will not tell you, came up to me and told me that, at ten o'clock inthe evening, he had seen somebody creeping into the Ligovskis' house. Imust observe that Princess Ligovski was here, and Princess Mary at home.So he and I set off to wait beneath the windows and waylay the luckyman."
I confess I was frightened, although my companion was very busilyengaged with his breakfast: he might have heard things which he wouldhave found rather displeasing, if Grushnitski had happened to guess thetruth; but, blinded by jealousy, the latter did not even suspect it.
"So, do you see?" Grushnitski continued. "We set off, taking with us agun, loaded with blank cartridge, so as just to give him a fright.We waited in the garden till two o'clock. At length--goodness knows,indeed, where he appeared from, but he must have come out by the glassdoor which is behind the pillar; it was not out of the window that hecame, because the window had remained unopened--at length, I say, we sawsomeone getting down from the balcony... What do you think of PrincessMary--eh? Well, I admit, it is hardly what you might expect from Moscowladies! After that what can you believe? We were going to seize him, buthe broke away and darted like a hare into the shrubs. Thereupon I firedat him."
There was a general murmur of incredulity.
"You do not believe it?" he continued. "I give you my word of honour asa gentleman that it is all perfectly true, and, in proof, I will tellyou the man's name if you like."
"Tell us, tell us, who was he?" came from all sides.
"Pechorin," answered Grushnitski.
At that moment he raised his eyes--I was standing in the doorwayopposite to him. He grew terribly red. I went up to him and said, slowlyand distinctly:
"I am very sorry that I did not come in before you had given your wordof honour in confirmation of a most abominable calumny: my presencewould have saved you from that further act of baseness."
Grushnitski jumped up from his seat and seemed about to fly into apassion.
"I beg you," I continued in the same tone: "I beg you at once to retractwhat you have said; you know very well that it is all an invention. Ido not think that a woman's indifference to your brilliant merits shoulddeserve so terrible a revenge. Bethink you well: if you maintain yourpresent attitude, you will lose the right to the name of gentleman andwill risk your life."
Grushnitski stood before me in violent agitation, his eyes cast down.But the struggle between his conscience and his vanity was of shortduration. The captain of dragoons, who was sitting beside him, nudgedhim with his elbow. Grushnitski started, and answered rapidly, withoutraising his eyes:
"My dear sir, what I say, I mean, and I am prepared to repeat... I amnot afraid of your menaces and am ready for anything."
"The latter you have already proved," I answered coldly; and, taking thecaptain of dragoons by the arm, I left the room.
"What do you want?" asked the captain.
"You are Grushnitski's friend and will no doubt be his second?"
The captain bowed very gravely.
"You have guessed rightly," he answered.
"Moreover, I am bound to be his second, because the insult offeredto him touches myself also. I was with him last night," he added,straightening up his stooping figure.
"Ah! So it was you whose head I struck so clumsily?"...
He turned yellow in the face, then blue; suppressed rage was portrayedupon his countenance.
"I shall have the honour to send my second to you to-day," I added,bowing adieu to him very politely, without appearing to have noticed hisfury.
On the restaurant-steps I met Vera's husband. Apparently he had beenwaiting for me.
He seized my hand with a feeling akin to rapture.
"Noble young man!" he said, with tears in his eyes. "I have heardeverything. What a scoundrel! Ingrate!... Just fancy such peoplebeing admitted into a decent household after this! Thank God I have nodaughters! But she for whom you are risking your life will reward you.Be assured of my constant discretion," he continued. "I have been youngmyself and have served in the army: I know that these affairs must taketheir course. Good-bye."
Poor fellow! He is glad that he has no daughters!...
I went straight to Werner, found him at home, and told him the wholestory--my relations with Vera and Princess Mary, and the conversationwhich I had overheard and from which I had learned the intention ofthese gentlemen to make a fool of me by causing me to fight a duel withblank cartridges. But, now, the affair had gone beyond the bounds ofjest; they probably had not expected that it would turn out like this.
The doctor consented to be my second; I gave him a few directions withregard to the conditions of the duel. He was to insist upon theaffair being managed with all possible secrecy, because, although I amprepared, at any moment, to face death, I am not in the least disposedto spoil for all time my future in this world.
After that I went home. In an hour's time the doctor returned from hisexpedition.
"There is indeed a conspiracy against you," he said. "I found thecaptain of dragoons at Grushnitski's, together with another gentlemanwhose surname I do not remember. I stopped a moment in the ante-room,in order to take off my goloshes. They were squabbling and making aterrible uproar. 'On no account will I agree,' Grushnitski was saying:'he has insulted me publicly; it was quite a different thing before'...
"'What does it matter to you?' answered the captain. 'I will take it allupon myself. I have been second in five duels, and I should think I knowhow to arrange the affair. I have thought it all out. Just let me alone,please. It is not a bad thing to give people a bit of a fright. And whyexpose yourself to danger if it is possible to avoid it?'...
"At that moment I entered the room. They suddenly fell silent. Ournegotiations were somewhat protracted. At length we decided the matteras follows: about five versts from here there is a hollow gorge; theywill ride thither tomorrow at four o'clock in the morning, and weshall leave half an hour later. You will fire at six paces--Grushnitskihimself demanded that condition. Whichever of you is killed--his deathwill be put down to the account of the Circassians. And now I must tellyou what I suspect: they, that is to say the seconds, may have madesome change in their former plan and may want to load only Grushnitski'spistol. That is something like murder, but in time of war, andespecially in Asiatic warfare, such tricks are allowed. Grushnitski,however, seems to be a little more magnanimous than his companions. Whatdo you think? Ought we not to let them see that we have guessed theirplan?"
"Not on any account, doctor! Make your mind easy; I will not give in tothem."
"But what are you going to do, then?"
"That is my secret."
"Mind you are not caught... six paces, you know!"
"Doctor, I shall expect you to-morrow at four o'clock. The horses willbe ready... Goodbye."
I remained in the house until the evening, with my door locked. Amanservant came to invite
me to Princess Ligovski's--I bade him say thatI was ill.
*****
Two o'clock in the morning... I cannot sleep... Yet sleep is what Ineed, if I am to have a steady hand to-morrow. However, at six pacesit is difficult to miss. Aha! Mr. Grushnitski, your wiles will notsucceed!... We shall exchange roles: now it is I who shall have to seekthe signs of latent terror upon your pallid countenance. Why have youyourself appointed these fatal six paces? Think you that I will tamelyexpose my forehead to your aim?...
No, we shall cast lots... And then--then--what if his luck shouldprevail? If my star at length should betray me?... And little wonder ifit did: it has so long and faithfully served my caprices.
Well? If I must die, I must! The loss to the world will not be great;and I myself am already downright weary of everything. I am like a guestat a ball, who yawns but does not go home to bed, simply becausehis carriage has not come for him. But now the carriage is here...Good-bye!...
My whole past life I live again in memory, and, involuntarily, I askmyself: 'why have I lived--for what purpose was I born?'... A purposethere must have been, and, surely, mine was an exalted destiny, becauseI feel that within my soul are powers immeasurable... But I was not ableto discover that destiny, I allowed myself to be carried away by theallurements of passions, inane and ignoble. From their crucible Iissued hard and cold as iron, but gone for ever was the glow of nobleaspirations--the fairest flower of life. And, from that time forth, howoften have I not played the part of an axe in the hands of fate! Like animplement of punishment, I have fallen upon the head of doomed victims,often without malice, always without pity... To none has my love broughthappiness, because I have never sacrificed anything for the sake ofthose I have loved: for myself alone I have loved--for my own pleasure.I have only satisfied the strange craving of my heart, greedily drainingtheir feelings, their tenderness, their joys, their sufferings--andI have never been able to sate myself. I am like one who, spent withhunger, falls asleep in exhaustion and sees before him sumptuous viandsand sparkling wines; he devours with rapture the aerial gifts of theimagination, and his pains seem somewhat assuaged. Let him but awake:the vision vanishes--twofold hunger and despair remain!
And to-morrow, it may be, I shall die!... And there will not be left onearth one being who has understood me completely. Some will consider meworse, others, better, than I have been in reality... Some will say:'he was a good fellow'; others: 'a villain.' And both epithets will befalse. After all this, is life worth the trouble? And yet we live--outof curiosity! We expect something new... How absurd, and yet howvexatious!