University of Virginia Library

III

THE windows of the barracks and of the soldiers' houses had long been dark in the fort; but there was still light in the windows of the best house there.

In it lived Prince Simon Mikhailovich Vorontsóv, commander of the Kurín Regiment, an imperial aide-de-camp and son of the commander-in-chief. Vorontsóv lived with his wife, Mary Vasílevna, a famous Petersburg beauty, and lived in this little Caucasian fort more luxuriously than any one had ever lived there before. To Vorontsóv, and especially to his wife, it seemed that they were not only living a very modest life, but one full of privations; while to the inhabitants of the place their luxury was surprising and extraordinary.

Now at midnight, in the spacious drawing-room with its carpeted floor, its rich curtains drawn across the windows, at a card table lit by four candles, sat the hosts and their visitors, playing cards. One of the players was

Vorontsóv himself: a long-faced, fair-haired colonel, wearing the initials and gold cords of an aide-de-camp. His partner — a graduate of Petersburg University, whom the Princess Vorontsóv had lately sent out as tutor to her little son (born of her first marriage) — was a shaggy young man of gloomy appearance. Against them played two officers: one a broad and red-faced man, Poltorátsky, a company commander, who had exchanged out of the guards; and the other, the regimental adjutant, a man with a cold expression on his handsome face, who sat very straight on his chair.

The princess, Mary Vasílevna, the large-built large-eyed and black-browed beauty, sat beside Poltorátsky (her crinoline touching his legs) and looked over his cards. In her words, her looks, and her smile, in her perfume and in every movement of her body, there was something that reduced Poltorátsky to obliviousness of everything except a consciousness of her nearness; and he made blunder after blunder, trying his partner's temper more and more.

"No ... that's too bad! You've again wasted an ace," said the regimental Adjutant,

flushing all over, as Poltorátsky threw out an ace.

Poltorátsky uncomprehendingly — as though he had just awoke — turned his kindly, wide-set black eyes towards the dissatisfied Adjutant.

"Do forgive him!" said Mary Vasílevna, smiling. "There, you see? Didn't I tell you so?" she went on, turning to Poltorátsky.

"But that's not at all what you said," replied Poltorátsky, smiling.

"Wasn't it?" she replied, also smiling; and this answering smile excited and delighted Poltorátsky to such a degree that he blushed crimson, and seizing the cards began to shuffle.

"It isn't your turn to deal," said the Adjutant sternly, and with his white ringed hand he himself began to deal as though he only wished to get rid of the cards as quickly as possible.

The Prince's valet entered the drawing-room, and announced that the officer on duty wanted the Prince.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the Prince, speaking Russian with an English accent. "Will you take my place, Marie?"

"Do you all agree?" asked the Princess, rising quickly and lightly to her full height, rustling with her silks, and smiling the radiant smile of a happy woman.

"I always agree to everything," replied the Adjutant, very pleased that the Princess — who could not play at all — was now going to play against him.

Poltorátsky only spread out his hands and smiled.

The rubber was nearly finished when the Prince returned to the drawing-room. He came back animated and very pleased.

"Do you know what I propose?"

"What is it?"

"Let us have some champagne."

"I am always ready for that," said Poltorátsky.

"Why not? We shall be delighted!" said the Adjutant.

"Vasíly! bring some!" said the Prince.

"What did they want you for?" asked Mary Vasílevna.

"It was the officer on duty, and another man."

"Who? What about?" asked Mary Vasílevna quickly.

"I mustn't say," said Vorontsóv, shrugging his shoulders.

"You mustn't say!" repeated Mary Vasílevna. "We'll see about that."

When the champagne was brought, each of the visitors drank a glass; and, having finished the game and settled the scores, they began to take their leave.

"Is it your company that's ordered to the forest to-morrow?" the Prince asked Poltorátsky as they said goodbye.

"Yes, mine...why?"

"Oh, then we'll meet to-morrow," said the Prince, slightly smiling.

"Very pleased," replied Poltorátsky, not quite understanding what Vorontsóv was saying to him, and preoccupied only by the thought that he would in a minute be pressing Mary Vasílevna's hand.

Mary Vasílevna, according to her wont, not only firmly pressed his hand, but shook it vigorously; and again reminding him of his mistake in playing diamonds, she gave him what

appeared to Poltorátsky to be a delightful affectionate and meaning smile.

Poltorátsky went home in an ecstatic condition only to be understood by people like himself who, having grown up and been educated in society, meet a woman belonging to their own circle after months of isolated military life, and, moreover, a woman like the Princess Vorontsóv.

When he reached the little house in which he and his comrade lived he pushed the door, but it was locked. He knocked, but still the door was not opened. He felt vexed, and began banging the door with his foot and his sword. Then he heard a sound of footsteps, and Vovílo — a domestic serf belonging to Poltorátsky — undid the cabin-hook which fastened the door.

"What do you mean by locking yourself in, blockhead?"

"But how is it possible, sir...?"

"You're tipsy again! I'll show you how 'it is possible!'" and Poltorátsky was about to strike Vovílo, but changed his mind. "Well, go to the devil! ... Light a candle."

"In a minute."

Vovílo was really tipsy. He had been drinking at the Name's-Day party of the ordnance-sergeant. On returning home he began comparing his life with that of the latter, Iván Petróvich. Iván Petróvich had a salary, was married, and hoped in a year's time to get his discharge.

Vovílo had been taken "up" when a boy; that is, he had been taken into his owner's household service; and now he was already over forty, was not married, and lived a campaigning life with his harum-scarum young master. He was a good master, who seldom struck him; but what kind of a life was it? "He promised to free me when we return from the Caucasus, but where am I to go with my freedom? ... It's a dog's life!" thought Vovílo; and he felt so sleepy that, afraid lest some one should come in and steal something, he fastened the hook of the door and fell asleep.

     .     .     .     .     .

Poltorátsky entered the bedroom, which he shared with his comrade Tíkhonof.

"Well, have you lost?" asked Tíkhonof, waking up.

"As it happens, I've not. I've won seventeen roubles, and we drank a bottle of Cliquot!"

"And you've looked at Mary Vasílevna?"

"Yes, and I've looked at Mary Vasílevna," repeated Poltorátsky.

"It will soon be time to get up," said Tíkhonof. "We are to start at six."

"Vovílo!" shouted Poltorátsky, "see that you wake me up properly to-morrow at five!"

"How's one to wake you, if you fight?"

"I tell you you're to wake me! Do you hear?"

"All right." Vovílo went out, taking Poltorátsky's boots and clothes with him. Poltorátsky got into bed, and smiling, smoked a cigarette and put out his candle. In the dark he saw before him the smiling face of Mary Vasílevna.

     .     .     .     .     .

The Vorontsóvs did not go to bed at once. When the visitors had left, Mary Vasílevna went up to her husband, and standing in front of him, said severely,—

"Eh bien! Vous allez me dire ce que c'est."[13]

"Mais, ma chère..."

"Pas de 'ma chère'! C'était un émissaire, n'est-ce pas?"

"Quand même, je ne puis pas vous le dire."

"Vous ne pouvez pas? Alors, c'est moi qui vais vous le dire!"

"Vous?"

"It was Hadji Murád, wasn't it?" said Mary Vasílevna, who had for some days past heard of the negotiations, and thought that Hadji Murád himself had been to see her husband. Vorontsóv could not altogether deny this, but disappointed her by saying that it was not Hadji Murád himself but only an emissary to announce that Hadji Murád would come to meet him next day, at the spot where a wood-cutting expedition had been arranged.

In the monotonous life of the fortress, the

young Vorontsóvs — both husband and wife — were glad of this occurrence; and when, after speaking of the pleasure the news would give his father, they went to bed, it was already past two o'clock.