The Gambler

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  However, to business.

  I went down the path to the avenue, stood in the middle of the avenue, and waited for the baroness and baron. From five paces away I took off my hat and bowed.

  I remember the baroness was wearing a silk dress of boundless circumference, light gray in color, with flounces, a crinoline, and a train. She was short and extraordinarily fat, with a terribly fat, pendulous chin, so that her neck couldn’t be seen at all. A purple face. Small eyes, wicked and insolent. She walks along as if she’s doing everyone an honor. The baron is dry, tall. His face, as German faces usually are, is crooked and covered with a thousand tiny wrinkles; eyeglasses; forty-five years old. His legs begin almost at the level of his chest; that takes breeding. Proud as a peacock. A bit clumsy. Something sheeplike in the expression of his face, which in its way replaces profundity.

  All this flashed in my eyes within three seconds.

  My bow and the hat in my hand at first barely caught their attention. Only the baron knitted his brows slightly. The baroness just came sailing towards me.

  “Madame la baronne,” I said loudly and clearly, rapping out each word, “j’ai l’honneur d’être votre esclave.”[10]

  Then I bowed, put my hat on, and walked past the baron, politely turning my face to him and smiling.

  She had told me to take off my hat, but the bowing and prankishness were all my own. Devil knows what pushed me. It was as if I was flying off a hilltop.

  “Hein! ” cried, or, better, grunted the baron, turning to me with angry surprise.

  I turned and stopped in respectful expectation, continuing to look at him and smile. He was obviously perplexed and raised his eyebrows to the ne plus ultra.[11] His face was darkening more and more. The baroness also turned towards me and stared in wrathful perplexity. Passersby began to look. Some even stopped.

  “Hein! ” the baron grunted again with a redoubled grunt and with redoubled wrath.

  “Jawohl! ”[12] I drawled, continuing to look him straight in the face.

  “Sind Sie rasend?”[13] he cried, waving his stick and, it seemed, beginning to turn a bit cowardly. He might have been thrown off by my outfit. I was very decently, even foppishly, dressed, like a man fully belonging to the most respectable public.

  “Jawo-o-ohl! ” I suddenly shouted with all my might, drawing out the O as Berliners do, who constantly use the expression jawohl in conversation, with that more or less drawn out letter O expressing various nuances of thought and feeling.

  The baron and baroness quickly turned and all but fled from me in fright. Some of the public started talking, others looked at me in perplexity. However, I don’t remember it very well.

  I turned and walked at an ordinary pace towards Polina Alexandrovna. But I was still about a hundred yards from her bench when I saw her get up and go towards the hotel with the children.

  I caught up with her by the porch.

  “I performed…the foolery,” I said, drawing even with her.

  “Well, what of it? Now you can deal with it,” she replied, without even looking at me, and went up the stairs.

  That whole evening I spent walking in the park. Through the park and then through the woods, I even walked to another principality.{8} In one cottage I ate scrambled eggs and drank wine. For this idyll I was fleeced as much as one and a half thalers.

  I came home only at eleven o’clock. The general sent for me at once.

  Our people occupy two suites in the hotel; they have four rooms. The first—a big one—is the salon, with a grand piano. Next to it another big room—the general’s study. He was waiting for me there, standing in the middle of the study in an extemely majestic attitude. Des Grieux was sprawled on the sofa.

  “My dear sir, allow me to ask, what you have done?” the general began, addressing me.

  “I would like you to get straight to the point, General,” I said. “You probably want to speak of my encounter with a certain German today?”

  “A certain German?! This German is Baron Wurmerhelm and an important person, sir! You were rude to him and to the baroness.”

  “Not in the least.”

  “You frightened them, my dear sir,” cried the general.

  “Not at all. Back in Berlin this jawohl got stuck in my ear, which they constantly repeat after every word and draw out so disgustingly. When I met him in the avenue, for some reason this jawohl suddenly popped up in my memory and had an irritating effect on me…Besides, three times now the baroness, on meeting me, has had the habit of walking straight at me as if I was a worm that could be crushed underfoot. You must agree that I, too, may have my self-respect. I took off my hat and politely (I assure you it was politely) said: ‘Madame, j’ai l’honneur d’être votre esclave.’ When the baron turned and shouted ‘Hein! ’—I also suddenly felt pushed to shout: ‘Jawohl! ’ So I shouted it twice, the first time in an ordinary way, and the second time drawing it out with all my might. That’s all.”

  I confess, I was terribly glad of this highly schoolboyish explanation. I had an astonishing wish to smear the whole story around as absurdly as possible.

  And the further it went, the more I got a taste for it.

  “Are you laughing at me, or what?” shouted the general. He turned to the Frenchman and told him in French that I was decidedly inviting a scandal. Des Grieux smiled contemptuously and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Oh, don’t think that, it’s nothing of the sort!” I cried to the general. “My act was not nice, of course, and I admit it to you frankly in the highest degree. My act may even be called stupid and indecent prankishness, but—nothing more. And you know, General, I’m repentant in the highest degree. But there’s one circumstance here which, in my eyes, almost even spares me any repentance. Lately, for some two or even three weeks, I’ve been feeling unwell: sick, nervous, irritable, fantastic, and on some occasions I even lose all control of myself. Really, I’ve sometimes wanted terribly to address the marquis des Grieux all at once and…However, there’s no point in saying it; he may get offended. In short, these are signs of illness. I don’t know whether Baroness Wurmerhelm will take that circumstance into consideration when I offer my apologies (because I intend to apologize). I suppose she won’t, the less so in that, from what I know, this circumstance has lately been misused in the legal world: in criminal trials, lawyers have begun quite frequently to justify their clients, the criminals, by saying that at the moment of the crime they remembered nothing and that it was supposedly some such illness. ‘He beat someone,’ they say, ‘and remembers nothing.’ And imagine, General, medical science agrees with them—it really confirms that there is such an illness, such a temporary madness, when a man remembers almost nothing, or half-remembers, or a quarter-remembers. But the baron and baroness are people of the older generation, and Prussian Junkers and landowners to boot. They must still be unfamiliar with this progress in the legal and medical world, and therefore will not accept my explanations. What do you think, General?”

  “Enough, sir!” the general uttered sharply and with restrained indignation, “enough! I will try to rid myself once and for all of your prankishness. Apologize to the baron and baroness you will not. Any relations with you, even if they consist solely of your asking forgiveness, would be too humiliating for them. The baron, having learned that you belong to my household, already had a talk with me in the vauxhall, and, I confess to you, a little more and he would have demanded satisfaction from me. Do you realize what you have subjected me to—me, my dear sir? I, I was forced to offer my apologies to the baron and give him my word that, immediately, this very day, you would cease to belong to my household…”

  “Pardon me, pardon me, General, so it was he himself who absolutely demanded that I not belong to your household, as you’re pleased to put it?”

  “No; but I myself considered it my duty to give him that satisfaction, and, naturally, the baron remained pleased. We are parting, my dear sir. I still owe you those four friedrichs d’or and three florins in
local currency. Here’s the money, and here’s the paper with the accounting; you may verify it. Good-bye. We are strangers from here on out. I have seen nothing from you but trouble and unpleasantness. I will summon the desk clerk at once and announce to him that starting tomorrow I do not answer for your hotel expenses. I have the honor to remain your obedient servant.”

  I took the money, the paper on which the accounting was penciled, bowed to the general, and said to him quite gravely:

  “General, the matter cannot end this way. I am very sorry that you were subjected to unpleasantness by the baron, but—excuse me—you yourself are to blame for it. How is it that you took it upon yourself to answer to the baron for me? What is the meaning of the expression that I belong to your household? I am simply a tutor in your house, and only that. I am not your son, I am not under your guardianship, and you cannot answer for my acts. I am a legally competent person. I am twenty-five years old, I have a university degree, I am a nobleman, I am a perfect stranger to you. Only my boundless respect for your merits keeps me from demanding satisfaction from you right now and a further accounting for the fact that you took upon yourself the right to answer for me.”

  The general was so dumbfounded that he spread his arms, then turned to the Frenchman and told him hurriedly that I had just all but challenged him to a duel. The Frenchman guffawed loudly.

  “But I do not intend to let the baron off,” I continued with perfect equanimity, not embarrassed in the least by M. des Grieux’s laughter, “and since you, General, by consenting today to listen to the baron’s complaint, and thereby entering into his interests, have put yourself in the position of a participant, as it were, in this whole business, I have the honor to inform you that, no later than tomorrow morning, I will, in my own name, demand a formal explanation from the baron of the reasons why, having business with me, he bypassed me and addressed himself to another person, as if I could not or was not worthy to answer him for myself.”

  What I anticipated happened. The general, hearing this new silliness, became terribly scared.

  “What, can you really intend to go on with this cursed business?” he cried. “But what are you doing to me, oh, Lord! Don’t you dare, don’t you dare, my dear sir, or I swear to you!…There are authorities here, too, and I…I…in short, by my rank…and the baron also…in short, you’ll be arrested and sent away from here by the police, so that you won’t make a row! Understand that, sir!” And though he was choking with wrath, all the same he was terribly scared.

  “General,” I replied, with an equanimity intolerable to him, “one cannot be arrested for rowdiness before there’s any rowdiness. I have not yet begun my talk with the baron, and it is as yet completely unknown to you in what manner and on what basis I intend to go about the business. My only wish is to clarify the offensive suggestion that I am under the guardianship of a person who supposedly has power over my free will. You needn’t trouble and worry yourself so much.”

  “For God’s sake, for God’s sake, Alexei Ivanovich, drop this senseless intention!” the general muttered, suddenly changing his wrathful tone to a pleading one and even seizing me by the hands. “Well, imagine what will come of it? Another unpleasantness! You must agree, I have to behave myself in a special manner here, especially now!…especially now!…Oh, you don’t know, you don’t know all my circumstances!…When we leave here, I’m prepared to take you back. It’s only just so, well, in short—you do understand the reasons!” he cried desperately. “Alexei Ivanovich, Alexei Ivanovich!…”

  Retreating to the door, I again earnestly begged him not to worry, promised that everything would turn out well and decently, and hastened to leave.

  Russians abroad are sometimes much too cowardly and are terribly afraid of what will be said of them, and how they’ll be looked at, and whether this or that will be proper; in short, they behave as if they’re in corsets, especially those who make claims to significance. What they like most is some preconceived, pre-established form, which they follow slavishly—in hotels, on promenades, at assemblies, while traveling…But on top of that the general had let slip that he had some special circumstances, that he somehow had to “behave specially.” That was why he was suddenly so pusillanimous and cowardly and changed his tone with me. I took that into consideration and made note of it. And, of course, tomorrow he might foolishly turn to some authorities, so that I indeed had to be careful.

  However, I had no interest at all in angering the general himself; but I did want to anger Polina a little now. Polina had dealt so cruelly with me, and had pushed me onto such a stupid path, that I wanted very much to drive her to the point of asking me to stop. My prankishness might finally compromise her as well. Besides that, some other sensations and desires were taking shape in me. If, for instance, I voluntarily vanish into nothing before her, that does not at all mean that I’m a wet chicken before people, and it is certainly not for the baron to “beat me with a stick.” I wanted to make fun of them all and come out as a fine fellow. Let them see. Never fear! she’ll be afraid of a scandal and call for me again. And if she doesn’t, she’ll still see that I’m not a wet chicken…

  (Astonishing news: I’ve just heard from our nanny, whom I met on the stairs, that Marya Filippovna set off today for Karlsbad, all by herself, on the evening train, to visit her cousin. What kind of news is that? The nanny says she had been intending to for a long time; but how is it no one knew? However, maybe only I didn’t know. The nanny let slip that Marya Filippovna had had a big talk with the general two days ago. I understand, sir. It’s probably—Mlle Blanche. Yes, something decisive is coming for us.)

  CHAPTER VII

  THE NEXT MORNING I sent for the desk clerk and told him that my account should be kept separately. My room was not so expensive that I should get very frightened and leave the hotel. I had sixteen friedrichs d’or, and there…there, maybe, lay riches! Strange thing, I haven’t won yet, but I act, feel, and think like a rich man, and I can’t imagine myself otherwise.

  I planned, despite the early hour, to go at once and see Mr. Astley at the Hôtel d’Angleterre, very near us, when suddenly des Grieux came into my room. This had never happened before, and, on top of that, the gentleman and I had lately been in the most alienated and strained relations. He plainly did not conceal his contempt for me, even made an effort not to conceal it; while I—I had my own reasons not to favor him. In short, I hated him. His visit surprised me very much. I realized at once that something very special was brewing.

  He came in very amiably and paid my room a compliment. Seeing that I had my hat in my hand, he inquired if I was really going for a walk so early. When he heard that I was going to see Mr. Astley on business, he reflected, understood, and his face acquired an extremely preoccupied look.

  Des Grieux was like all Frenchmen, that is, cheerful and amiable when it was necessary and profitable, and insufferably dull when the necessity to be cheerful and amiable ceased. A Frenchman is rarely amiable by nature; he is always amiable as if on command, out of calculation. If, for instance, he sees the necessity of being fantastic, original, out of the ordinary, then his fantasy, being most stupid and unnatural, assembles itself out of a priori accepted and long-trivialized forms. The natural Frenchman consists of a most philistine, petty, ordinary positiveness—in short, the dullest being in the world. In my opinion, only novices, and Russian young ladies in particular, are attracted to Frenchmen. Any decent being will at once notice and refuse to put up with this conventionalism of the pre-established forms of salon amiability, casualness, and gaiety.

  “I’ve come to see you on business,” he began extremely independently, though, by the way, politely, “and I will not conceal that I’ve come as an ambassador or, better to say, a mediator from the general. Knowing Russian very poorly, I understood almost nothing yesterday; but the general explained it to me in detail, and I confess…”

  “Listen, M. des Grieux,” I interrupted him, “here you’ve undertaken to be a mediator in thi
s business as well. I am, of course, ‘un outchitel,’ and have never claimed the honor of being a close friend of this house or on any especially intimate relations, and therefore I do not know all the circumstances; but explain to me: can it be that you now fully belong to the members of this family? Because, finally, you take such interest in absolutely everything, you unfailingly become a mediator in it all straight away…”

  He didn’t like my question. It was only too transparent for him, and he didn’t want to let anything slip.

  “I am connected with the general partly by business, partly by certain special circumstances,” he said dryly. “The general has sent me to ask you to drop your intentions of yesterday. Everything you thought up was, of course, very clever; but he has precisely asked me to represent to you that it will be a total failure; moreover, the baron will not receive you, and, finally, in any case, he has every means of ridding himself of any further unpleasantness on your part. You’ll agree yourself. Why go on with it, tell me? The general has promised you that he will certainly take you back into his household at the first convenience, and until that time will credit you for your salary, vos appointements.[14] Rather profitable, is it not?”

  I objected to him quite calmly that he was somewhat mistaken; that maybe I would not be chased out of the baron’s, but, on the contrary, be listened to; and I asked him to admit that he had probably come in order to worm out of me precisely how I was going to set about this whole business.

  “Oh, God, since the general is so involved, he would certainly like to know what you are going to do and how! It’s so natural!”