Hero of Our Time — 24 Book 5 Chapter 16-18
I shrugged my shoulders, turned round, and walked away.
CHAPTER XVI.
25th June.
I SOMETIMES despise myself...
Is not that the reason why I despise others also?...
I have grown incapable of noble impulses; I am afraid of appearing ridiculous to myself.
In my place, another would have offered Princess Mary son coeur et sa fortune; but over me the word “marry” has a kind of magical power.
However passionately I love a woman, if she only gives me to feel that I have to marry her--then farewell, love!
My heart is turned to stone, and nothing will warm it anew.
I am prepared for any other sacrifice but that; my life twenty times over, nay, my honour I would stake on the fortune of a card...
but my freedom I will never sell.
Why do I prize it so highly?
What is there in it to me?
For what am I preparing myself?
What do I hope for from the future?...
In truth, absolutely nothing.
It is a kind of innate dread, an inexplicable prejudice...
There are people, you know, who have an unaccountable dread of spiders, beetles, mice...
Shall I confess it?
When I was but a child, a certain old woman told my fortune to my mother.
She predicted for me death from a wicked wife.
I was profoundly struck by her words at the time: an irresistible repugnance to marriage was born within my soul...
Meanwhile, something tells me that her prediction will be realized; I will try, at all events, to arrange that it shall be realized as late in life as possible.
CHAPTER XVII.
26th June.
YESTERDAY, the conjurer Apfelbaum arrived here.
A long placard made its appearance on the door of the restaurant, informing the most respected public that the above-mentioned marvellous conjurer, acrobat, chemist, and optician would have the honour to give a magnificent performance on the present day at eight o’clock in the evening, in the saloon of the Nobles’ Club (in other words, the restaurant); tickets--two rubles and a half each.
Everyone intends to go and see the marvellous conjurer; even Princess Ligovski has taken a ticket for herself, in spite of her daughter being ill.
After dinner to-day, I walked past Vera’s windows; she was sitting by herself on the balcony.
A note fell at my feet: “Come to me at ten o’clock this evening by the large staircase.
My husband has gone to Pyatigorsk and will not return before to-morrow morning.
My servants and maids will not be at home; I have distributed tickets to all of them, and to the princess’s servants as well.
I await you; come without fail.
” “Aha!
” I said to myself, “so then it has turned out at last as I thought it would.
” At eight o’clock I went to see the conjurer.
The public assembled before the stroke of nine.
The performance began.
On the back rows of chairs I recognized Vera’s and Princess Ligovski’s menservants and maids.
They were all there, every single one.
Grushnitski, with his lorgnette, was sitting in the front row, and the conjurer had recourse to him every time he needed a handkerchief, a watch, a ring and so forth.
For some time past, Grushnitski has ceased to bow to me, and to-day he has looked at me rather insolently once or twice.
It will all be remembered 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 the summit of the surrounding mountains, and only at rare intervals did the dying breeze rustle the tops of the poplars which surrounded the restaurant.
People were crowding at the windows.
I went down the mountain and, turning in under the gate, I hastened my pace.
Suddenly it seemed to me that somebody was following my steps.
I stopped and looked round.
It was impossible to make out anything in the darkness.
However, out of caution, I walked round the house, as if taking a stroll.
Passing Princess Mary’s windows, I again heard steps behind me; a man wrapped in a cloak ran by me.
That rendered me uneasy, but I crept up to the flight of steps, and hastily mounted the dark staircase.
A door opened, and a little 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, long tortured myself...
But you can do anything you like with me.
” Her heart was beating violently, her hands were cold as ice.
She broke out into complaints and jealous reproaches.
She demanded that I should confess everything to her, saying that she would bear my faithlessness with submission, because her sole desire was that I should be happy.
I
did not quite believe that, but I calmed her with oaths, promises and so on.
“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 two shawls 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’s room.
Something drew me towards that window.
The curtain was not quite drawn, and I was able to cast a curious glance into the interior of the room.
Mary was sitting on her bed, her hands crossed upon her knees;
her thick hair was gathered up under a lace-frilled nightcap; her white shoulders were covered by a large crimson kerchief, and her little feet were hidden in a pair of many-coloured Persian slippers.
She was sitting quite still, her head sunk upon her breast; on a little table in front of her was an open book; but her eyes, fixed and full of inexpressible grief, seemed for the hundredth time to be skimming the same page whilst her thoughts were far away.
At that moment somebody stirred behind a shrub.
I leaped from the balcony on to the sward.
An invisible hand seized me by the shoulder.
“Aha!
” said a rough voice: “caught!...
I’ll teach you to be entering princesses’ 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 covered the 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.
My manservant had only just locked the door when Grushnitski and the captain 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: they would have been looking for me in the garden for another hour or so.
Meanwhile the alarm became terrific.
A Cossack galloped up from the fortress.
The commotion was general; Circassians were looked for in every shrub--and of course none were found.
Probably, however, a good many people were left with the firm conviction that, if only more courage and despatch had been shown by the garrison, at least a score of brigands would have failed to get away with their lives.
CHAPTER XVIII.
27th June.
THIS morning, at the well, the sole topic of conversation was the nocturnal attack by the Circassians.
I drank the appointed number of glasses of Narzan water, and, after sauntering a few times about the long linden avenue, I met Vera’s husband, who had just arrived from Pyatigorsk.
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 was bound to happen just at the very time when I was absent.
” We sat down to breakfast near the door leading into a corner-room in which about a dozen young men were sitting.
Grushnitski was amongst them.
For the second time destiny provided me with the opportunity of overhearing a conversation which was to decide his fate.
He did not see me, and, consequently, it was impossible for me to suspect him of design; but that only magnified his fault in my eyes.
“Is it possible, though, that they were really Circassians?
” somebody said.
“Did anyone see them?
” “I will tell you the whole truth,” answered Grushnitski: “only please do not betray me.
This is how it was: yesterday, a certain man, whose name I will not tell you, came up to me and told me that, at ten o’clock in the evening, he had seen somebody creeping into the Ligovskis’ house.
I
must 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 lucky man.
” I confess I was frightened, although my companion was very busily engaged with his breakfast: he might have heard things which he would have found rather displeasing, if Grushnitski had happened to guess the truth; but, blinded by jealousy, the latter did not even suspect it.
“So, do you see?
” Grushnitski continued.
“We set off, taking with us a gun, 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 glass door which is behind the pillar; it was not out of the window that he came, because the window had remained unopened--at length, I say, we saw someone getting down from the balcony...
What do you think of Princess Mary--eh?
Well, I admit, it is hardly what you might expect from Moscow ladies!
After that what can you believe?
We were going to seize him, but he broke away and darted like a hare into the shrubs.
Thereupon I fired at him.
” There was a general murmur of incredulity.
“You do not believe it?
” he continued.
“I give you my word of honour as a gentleman that it is all perfectly true, and, in proof, I will tell you 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 doorway opposite to him.
He grew terribly red.
I went up to him and said, slowly and distinctly: “I am very sorry that I did not come in before you had given your word of honour in confirmation of a most abominable calumny: my presence would have saved you from that further act of baseness.
” Grushnitski jumped up from his seat and seemed about to fly into a passion.
“I beg you,” I continued in the same tone: “I beg you at once to retract what you have said; you know very well that it is all an invention.
I
do not think that a woman’s indifference to your brilliant merits should deserve so terrible a revenge.
Bethink you well: if you maintain your present attitude, you will lose the right to the name of gentleman and will 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 short duration.
The captain of dragoons, who was sitting beside him, nudged him with his elbow.
Grushnitski started, and answered rapidly, without raising his eyes: “My dear sir, what I say, I mean, and I am prepared to repeat...
I am not afraid of your menaces and am ready for anything.
” “The latter you have already proved,” I answered coldly; and, taking the captain 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 offered to 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 portrayed upon 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 his fury.
On the restaurant-steps I met Vera’s husband.
Apparently he had been waiting for me.
He seized my hand with a feeling akin to rapture.
“Noble young man!
” he said, with tears in his eyes.
“I have heard everything.
What a scoundrel!
Ingrate!...
Just fancy such people being admitted into a decent household after this!
Thank God I have no daughters!
But she for whom you are risking your life will reward you.
Be assured of my constant discretion,” he continued.
“I have been young myself and have served in the army: I know that these affairs must take their 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 whole story--my relations with Vera and Princess Mary, and the conversation which I had overheard and from which I had learned the intention of these gentlemen to make a fool of me by causing me to fight a duel with blank cartridges.
But, now, the affair had gone beyond the bounds of jest; 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 with regard to the conditions of the duel.
He was to insist upon the affair being managed with all possible secrecy, because, although I am prepared, at any moment, to face death, I am not in the least disposed to spoil for all time my future in this world.
After that I went home.
In an hour’s time the doctor returned from his expedition.
“There is indeed a conspiracy against you,” he said.
“I found the captain of dragoons at Grushnitski’s, together with another gentleman whose 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 a terrible 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 all upon myself.
I have been second in five duels, and I should think I know how 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 why expose yourself to danger if it is possible to avoid it?
’...
“At that moment I entered the room.
They suddenly fell silent.
Our negotiations were somewhat protracted.
At length we decided the matter as follows: about five versts from here there is a hollow gorge; they will ride thither tomorrow at four o’clock in the morning, and we shall leave half an hour later.
You will fire at six paces--Grushnitski himself demanded that condition.
Whichever of you is killed--his death will be put down to the account of the Circassians.
And now I must tell you what I suspect: they, that is to say the seconds, may have made some change in their former plan and may want to load only Grushnitski’s pistol.
That is something like murder, but in time of war, and especially in Asiatic warfare, such tricks are allowed.
Grushnitski, however, seems to be a little more magnanimous than his companions.
What do you think?
Ought we not to let them see that we have guessed their plan?
” “Not on any account, doctor!
Make your mind easy; I will not give in to them.
” “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 will be ready...
Goodbye.
” I remained in the house until the evening, with my door locked.
A
manservant came to invite me to Princess Ligovski’s--I bade him say that I was ill.
***** Two o’clock in the morning...
I cannot sleep...
Yet sleep is what I need, if I am to have a steady hand to-morrow.
However, at six paces it is difficult to miss. Aha!
Mr. Grushnitski, your wiles will not succeed!...
We shall exchange roles: now it is I who shall have to seek the signs of latent terror upon your pallid countenance.
Why have you yourself appointed these fatal six paces?
Think you that I will tamely expose my forehead to your aim?...
No, we shall cast lots...
And then--then--what if his luck should prevail?
If my star at length should betray me?...
And little wonder if it 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 guest at a ball, who yawns but does not go home to bed, simply because his 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 ask myself: ‘why have I lived--for what purpose was I born?
’...
A purpose there must have been, and, surely, mine was an exalted destiny, because I feel that within my soul are powers immeasurable...
But I was not able to discover that destiny, I allowed myself to be carried away by the allurements of passions, inane and ignoble.
From their crucible I issued hard and cold as iron, but gone for ever was the glow of noble aspirations--the fairest flower of life.
And, from that time forth, how often have I not played the part of an axe in the hands of fate!
Like an implement of punishment, I have fallen upon the head of doomed victims, often without malice, always without pity...
To none has my love brought happiness, because I have never sacrificed anything for the sake of those I have loved: for myself alone I have loved--for my own pleasure.
I have only satisfied the strange craving of my heart, greedily draining their feelings, their tenderness, their joys, their sufferings--and I have never been able to sate myself.
I am like one who, spent with hunger, falls asleep in exhaustion and sees before him sumptuous viands and sparkling wines; he devours with rapture the aerial gifts of the imagination, 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 on earth one being who has understood me completely.
Some will consider me worse, others, better, than I have been in reality...
Some will say: ‘he was a good fellow’; others: ‘a villain.
’ And both epithets will be false.
After all this, is life worth the trouble?
And yet we live--out of curiosity!
We expect something new...
How absurd, and yet how vexatious!
CHAPTER XIX
