CHAPTER XXVI
When Raisky returned to his room at daybreak and looked in the mirror,he hardly recognised himself. He felt chilly, and sent Marina for aglass of wine which he drank before he threw himself on his bed.Overcome by moral and physical exhaustion he slept as if he had thrownhimself into the arms of a friend and had confided his trouble to him.Sleep did him the service of a friend, for it carried him far from Vera,from Malinovka, from the precipice, from the fantastic vision of lastnight. When the ringing of many bells awoke him he lay for severalminutes under the soothing influence of the physical rest, which built arampart between him and yesterday. There was no agony in his awakeningmoments. But soon memory revived, and his face wore an expression moreterrible than in the worst moments of yesterday. A pain different fromyesterday's, a new devil had hurled itself upon him. He seized one pieceof clothing after another and dressed as hastily and nervously as Verahad done as she prepared to go to the precipice.
He rang for Egorka, from whom he learnt that everybody except Vera, whowas not well, had driven to Mass. In wild agitation he dashed across tothe old house. There was no response when he knocked at Vera's door. Heopened it cautiously, and stole in like a man with murderous intent,with horror imprinted on his features, and advanced on tiptoe, trembling,deadly pale, with swaying steps as if he might fall at any minute.
Vera lay on the divan, with her face turned away, her hair falling downalmost to the floor, and her slipper-clad feet hardly covered by hergrey skirt. She tried to turn round when she heard the noise of theopening door, but could not.
He approached, knelt at her feet, and pressed his lips to the slippershe wore. Suddenly she turned, and stared at him in astonishment. "Is itcomedy or romance, Boris Pavlovich," she asked brusquely, turned inannoyance, and hid her foot under the skirt which she straightenedquickly.
"No, Vera, tragedy," he whispered in a lifeless voice, and sat down onthe chair near the divan.
The tone of his voice moved her to turn and look keenly at him, and hereyes opened wide with astonishment. She threw aside her shawl, and rose,she had divined in Raisky's face the presence of the same deadlysuffering that she herself endured.
"What is your trouble? Are _you_ unhappy?" she said, laying herhand on his shoulder. In the simple word and in the tone of her voicethere were revealed the generous qualities of a woman, sympathy,selflessness, and love.
Keenly touched by the kindness and tenderness in her voice he looked ather with the same rapturous gratitude which she had worn on her faceyesterday when in self-forgetfulness he had helped her down theprecipice. She returned generosity with generosity, just as yesterdaythere had streamed from him a gleam of one of the highest qualities ofthe human mind. He was all the more in despair over what he had done,and wept hot tears. He hid his face in his hands like a man for whom allis lost.
"What have I done? I have insulted you, woman and sister."
"Do not make us both suffer," she said in a gentle, friendly tone."Spare me; you see how I am."
He tried not to meet her eyes, and she again lay down on the divan.
"What a blow I dealt you," he whispered in horror. "You see mypunishment, Vera!"
"Your blow gave me a minute's pain, and then I understood that it wasnot delivered with an indifferent hand, that you loved me. And it becameclear to me how you must have suffered ... yesterday."
"Don't justify my crime, Vera. A knife is a knife, and I aimed a knifeat you."
"You brought me to myself. I was as if I slept, and you, Grandmother,Marfinka and the whole house I saw as if in a dream."
"What am I to do, Vera? Fly from here? In what a state of mind I shouldleave! Let me endure my penance here, and be reconciled, as far as ispossible, with myself, with all that has happened here."
"Your imagination paints what was only a fault as a crime. Remember yourcondition when you did it, your agitation!" She gave him her hand, andcontinued, "I know now what one is capable of doing in the fever ofemotion."
She set herself to calm him in spite of her own weariness.
"You are good, Vera, and, womanlike, judge not with your brain, but withyour heart."
"You are too severe with yourself. Another would have thought himselfjustified after all the jesting.... You remember those letters. Withwhatever good intention of calming your agitation, of answering yourjest with jests, it was malicious mockery. You suffered more from thoseletters than I did yesterday."
"Oh, dear, no! I have often laughed over them, especially when you askedfor a cloak, a rug, and money for the exile."
"What money? what cloak? what exile?" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Idon't understand."
"I myself had suspicions," he said, his face clearing a little. "I couldnot believe that that was your idea." And in a few words he told her thecontents of the two letters.
Her lips turned white.
"Natasha and I wrote to you turn and turn about in the same handwriting,amusing little letters in which we tried to imitate yours; that is all.I didn't know anything about the other letters," she whispered, turningher face to the wall.
Raisky strode up and down in thought, while Vera appeared to be resting,exhausted by the conversation.
"Cousin," she said suddenly, "I ask your help in a very important matter,and I know you will not refuse me." A glance at his face told her thatthere was nothing she could not ask of him. "While I still have strength,I want to tell you the whole history of this year."
"Why should you do that? I will not and I ought not to know."
"Do not disturb me, Boris. I can hardly breathe and time is precious. Iwill tell you the whole story, and you must repeat it to our Grandmother.I could not do it," she said. "My tongue would not say the words--Iwould rather die."
He looked at her with an expression of blank terror. "But why shouldGrandmother be told? Think of the consequences. Would it not be betterto keep her in ignorance?"
"No, the burden must be borne. It is possible that Grandmother and Iwill both die of it, or we shall lose our senses, but I will not deceiveher. She ought to have known it long ago, but I hoped to be able to tellher another story, and therefore was silent."
"To tell her everything, even of yesterday evening," he asked in a lowtone. "And the name also?"
She nodded almost imperceptibly in assent. Then she made him sit down onthe divan beside her, and in low, broken sentences told the story of herrelations with Mark. When she had finished she wrapped herself,shivering with cold, in her shawl. He rose from his seat. Both weresilent, each of them in terror, she as she thought of her grandmother,he as he thought of them both. Before him lay the prospect of having todeal Tatiana Markovna one thrust after another, and that not in the heatof passion, or in an access of blind revenge, but in the consciousnessof a most painful duty. It might be as she said an important service,but it was certainly a terrible commission.
"When shall I tell her?" he asked.
"As soon as possible, for I shall suffer so long as I know she is inignorance, and now, give me the eau-de-Cologne from the dressing-table,and leave me alone."
"It would not do to tell Grandmother to-day when the house is full ofguests, but to-morrow...." said Raisky.
"How shall I survive it? But till to-morrow, calm her by some means orother, so that she has no suspicion and sends no one here."
She closed her eyes in a longing for impenetrable night, for restwithout an awakening; she would like to have been turned into a thing ofstone so that she could neither think nor feel.
When he left her he was weighed down with a greater weight of fear thanthat which he had brought to the interview. Vera rose as soon as he lefther, closed the door, and lay down again. She had found consolation andhelp in Raisky's friendship, his sympathy and devotion, as a drowningman rises to the surface for a moment, but as soon as he was gone shefell back deeper into the depths. She told herself in despair that lifewas over. Before her there stretched the bare steppe; there was nolonger for her a family, nor anything on which
a woman's life depends.She would have to stand before her aunt, to look her in the eyes, and totell her how she had recompensed her love and care. Suddenly she heardsteps and her aunt's voice. Pale and motionless, as if she had lost theuse of hands and feet, she listened to the light tap at the door. I willnot get up, I cannot, she thought. But when the knock was repeated, shesprang up with a strength which astonished herself, dried her eyes andwent smiling to meet her aunt.
When Tatiana Markovna had heard from Marfinka that Vera was ill, andwould remain in her room all day, she had come herself to inquire; sheglanced at Vera and sat down on the divan.
"The service has tired me so that I could hardly walk up the steps.What's the matter with you, Vera?" she continued, looking keenly at her.
"I congratulate Marfinka on her birthday," said Vera, in the voice of alittle girl who has learnt her speech by heart. She kissed hergrandmother's hand and wondered how she had managed to bring the wordsover her lips. "I got wet feet yesterday, and have a headache." Shetried to smile, but there was no smile on her lips.
"You must rub your feet with spirit," remarked Tatiana Markovna, who hadnoticed the strained voice and the unnatural smile, and guessed a lackof frankness. "Are you coming to be with us, Vera? Don't force yourselfto do so, and so make yourself worse," she continued, seeing that Verawas incapable of answering.
Vera was all the more frightened by her aunt's consideration for her.Her conscience stirred, and she felt that Tatiana Markovna must alreadyknow all, and that her confession would come too late. She was on thepoint of falling on her breast, and making her confession there and then,but her strength failed her.
"Excuse me, Grandmother, from dinner; perhaps I will come over in theafternoon."
"As you like. I will send your dinner across."
"Thank you, I am already quite hungry," said Vera quickly, withoutknowing what she said.
Tatiana Markovna kissed her, and stroked her hair, remarking casuallythat one of the maids should come and do her room, as she might have avisitor.
Tatiana Markovna returned sadly to the house. She was, indeed, politelyattentive to her guests as she always was, but Raisky noticedimmediately that something was wrong with her after her visit to Vera.She found it hard to restrain her emotion, hardly touched the food, didnot even look round when Petrushka smashed a pile of plates, and morethan once broke off in the middle of a sentence. In the afternoon as theguests took coffee on the broad terrace in the mild September sunshine,Tatiana Markovna moved among her guests as if she were hardly aware ofthem. Raisky wore a gloomy air and had eyes for no one but his aunt."Something is wrong with Vera," she whispered to him. "She is in trouble.Have you seen her?"
"No," he said. But his aunt looked at him as if she doubted what he said.
Paulina Karpovna had not come. She had sent word that she was ill, andthe messenger brought flowers and plants for Marfinka. In order toexplain the scene of the day before, and to find out whether she hadguessed anything, Raisky had paid a visit in the morning to PaulinaKarpovna. She received him with a pretence of being offended, but withhardly disguised satisfaction. His excuse was that he had dined withfriends that night and had had a glass too much. He begged forforgiveness which was accorded with a smile, all which did not preventPaulina Karpovna from recounting to all her acquaintance her love scene.
Tushin came to dinner, and brought Marfinka a lovely pony to ride. Heasked for Vera, and was plainly disturbed when he heard of theindisposition which prevented her from coming to dinner. TatianaMarkovna observed him, wondering why Vera's absence had such aremarkable effect on him, though this had often been the case beforewithout exciting any surprise on her part. She could not keep out of herhead anxiety as to what change had come over Vera since yesterdayevening. She had had a little quarrel with Tiet Nikonich, and hadscolded him for having brought Marfinka the Sevres mirror. Afterwardsshe was closeted with him for a quarter of an hour in her sitting-room,and he emerged from the interview looking serious. He shifted his footless, and even when he was talking to ladies his serous inquiring glancewould wander to Raisky or Tushin.
Up till this time Tatiana Markovna had been so gay. Her one anxiety, andat the moment the only one perhaps, had been the celebration of Vera'snameday a fortnight ahead, she would have liked to have celebrated itwith the same magnificence as Marfinka's birthday, although Vera hadroundly declared that on that day she meant to go on a visit to AnnaIvanovna Tushin, or to her friend Natasha. But how Tatiana Markovna hadchanged since Mass. As she talked with her guests she was thinking onlyof Vera, and gave absent-minded answers. The excuse of a cold had notdeceived her, and as she had touched Vera's brow on leaving her, she hadrealised that a cold could be nothing but a pretext. She remembered thatVera and Raisky had vanished in the afternoon and that neither hadappeared at supper. She was constantly watching Raisky, who sought toavoid her glance, thereby only arousing her suspicions the more.Then Vera herself unexpectedly appeared amongst the guests, wearing awarm mantilla over her light dress and a wrap round her throat. Raiskywas so astonished that he looked at her as if she were an apparition. Afew hours ago she had been almost too exhausted to speak, and now hereshe was in person. He wondered where women found their strength. Verawent round speaking to the guests, looked at Marfinka's presents, andate, to quench her thirst, as she said, a slice of water melon. TatianaMarkovna was to some extent relieved to see Vera, but it disturbed herto notice that Raisky's face had changed. For the first time in her lifeshe cursed her guests; they were just sitting down to cards, then therewould be tea, and then supper, and Vikentev was not going untilto-morrow morning.
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