Five minutes, ten minutes, passed and still the young bride did not return. Everything became quiet. Even the Count stopped joking. Olenka’s absence was all the more noticeable because she had departed so suddenly, without saying one word. Not to mention the question of etiquette, which, more than anything else, had been badly breached, Olenka had left the table immediately after the kiss, as if she were angry at having been forced to kiss her husband. One could not assume that she had left out of embarrassment. It’s possible to be embarrassed for a minute, for two minutes, but not for an eternity, which the first ten minutes of her absence appeared to be. So many evil, nasty thoughts must have flashed through the men’s tipsy heads, so much slanderous talk was already on the lips of those charming ladies! The bride had risen from the table and left – what a dramatic and effective scene for a novel of provincial high society!
Urbenin started anxiously looking around.
‘It’s nerves,’ he muttered. ‘Or perhaps part of her dress has come undone. Who can understand them, these women! She’ll be back in a jiffy, any minute now…’
But after another ten minutes had passed and she still hadn’t appeared, he looked at me with such unhappy, imploring eyes that I felt sorry for him.
‘What if I went to look for her?’ his eyes said. ‘Will you help me out of this dreadful mess, old chap? You’re the most intelligent, the boldest and most resourceful man here – please help me!’
I noted the entreaty in his unhappy eyes and decided to help him. How I helped him the reader will discover later. All I shall say now is that the bear in Krylov’s fable41 that did a hermit a good turn, loses (in my opinion) all its animal majesty, pales and turns into innocent infusoria,42 when I remind myself of the ‘obliging fool’ role I played. The only resemblance between myself and the bear consisted in both of us going to help someone, with sincere motives, without anticipating any nasty consequences as a result. But the difference between us was enormous: the stone that I hurled at Urbenin’s head was much heavier.
‘Where’s Olga Nikolayevna?’ I asked the footman who was serving me some salad.
‘She’s gone into the garden, sir,’ he replied.
‘This is simply unheard of, mesdames,’ I told the ladies in a jocular tone of voice. ‘The bride’s left and my wine’s turned sour! I must go and find her and bring her back, even if all her teeth are aching! A best man is like an official – and this one’s going to demonstrate his authority!’
I stood up and to the loud applause of my friend, the Count, went from the dining-room into the garden. The direct, burning rays of the afternoon sun beat on my head that was inflamed with wine. Suffocating heat and humid air breathed right into my face. I walked haphazardly along one of the side paths, whistling some kind of tune and giving ‘full steam ahead’ to my investigatory capabilities as a simple detective. I checked all the bushes, summer-houses, grottoes and, just as I was beginning to feel pangs of regret at having turned right instead of left, I suddenly heard a strange noise. Someone was either laughing or crying. These sounds came from a grotto that I had left until last. I quickly entered and was immediately enveloped in dampness, the smell of mildew, mushrooms and lime – and then I saw the object of my search.
She was standing there, leaning against a wooden column that was covered in black moss, looking at me with eyes full of horror and despair, and tearing her hair. Tears poured from her eyes as from a squeezed sponge.
‘What have I done?’ she muttered. ‘What have I done?’
‘Yes, Olenka, what have you done?’ I said, standing behind her with arms folded.
‘Why did I marry him? Where were my eyes? Where were my brains?’
‘Yes, Olya… the step you took is hard to explain. To put it down to inexperience is too lenient, to explain it by depravity – that I don’t want to do!’
‘Only today did I come to understand – only today! Why didn’t I understand this yesterday? Now everything is irrevocable, all is lost! Everything, everything! And I could have married a man I love and who loves me!’
‘And who might that be, Olya?’ I asked.
‘You!’ she said, looking at me openly, directly. ‘But I was in too much of a hurry! I was stupid! You’re clever, high-minded, young… you’re rich! You seemed so unattainable!’
‘That’s enough, Olya,’ I said, taking her hand. ‘Now, wipe your little eyes and let’s go back. They’re waiting for us. Come on, enough of those tears, enough!’ I kissed her hand. ‘Now, that’s enough, little girl! You did something silly and now you must pay for it. It’s your own fault… Come on, that’s enough… calm down.’
‘But you do love me, don’t you? You’re so big, so handsome! You do love me, don’t you?’
‘It’s time to go, my dear,’ I said, noticing to my great horror that I was kissing her forehead, putting my arm around her waist, that she was scorching me with her hot breath, and hanging on my neck.
‘That’s enough!’ I muttered. ‘Enough of this!’
XII
Five minutes later, when I had carried her out of the grotto in my arms and, wearied by new sensations, had set her down, I spotted Pshekhotsky almost at the entrance. He was standing there maliciously eyeing me and silently applauding. I looked him up and down, took Olenka by the arm and returned to the house.
‘You’ll be out of here today!’ I told Pshekhotsky as I looked around. ‘You won’t get away with this spying!’
My kisses had probably been very passionate, as Olenka’s face was burning as if it were on fire. There was no trace of the tears she had just shed.
‘Now I couldn’t give a damn, as the saying goes,’ she murmured as she walked back with me towards the house, convulsively squeezing my elbow. ‘This morning I didn’t know what to do, I was so horrified… and now, my good giant, I’m beside myself with happiness. My husband’s sitting back there, waiting for me. Ha ha! What do I care? Even if he were a crocodile or a terrible serpent… I’m afraid of nothing! I love you and that’s all that matters.’
I looked at her face that was glowing with happiness, at her eyes that were full of joyful, satisfied love – and my heart sank with fears for the future of that pretty, blissful creature. Her love for me was only another push into the abyss. What would become of that smiling woman who had no thought for the future? My heart sank, turned over from a feeling that could be called neither pity nor compassion – it was stronger than both of these. I stopped and took Olenka by the shoulder. Never before had I seen a more beautiful and graceful creature, nor one that was at the same time more pathetic. There was no time for deliberating, weighing things up, taking stock. Overcome with emotion I told her:
‘Let’s go to my place right away, Olga! This very minute!’
‘What? What did you say?’ she asked, puzzled by my rather solemn tone.
‘Let’s go to my place right away.’
Olga smiled and pointed back towards the house.
‘Well, what’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘Isn’t it all the same whether I take you away today or tomorrow? The sooner the better… let’s go!’
‘But it’s all rather peculiar…’
‘Are you afraid of a scandal, little girl? Yes, there’ll be an almighty, magnificent scandal – but a thousand scandals are better than your staying here! I won’t leave you here! I can’t leave you here! Do you understand, Olga? Forget your faintheartedness, your female logic and do what I say! Obey me, if you don’t desire your own ruin!’
Olga’s eyes told me that she didn’t understand. Meanwhile, time did not stand still and ran its course, so that now it was impossible to stay in the avenue a moment longer, while they were waiting for us back there. A decision had to be made. I pressed the ‘girl in red’ to me (she was virtually my wife now) and at the time it struck me that I really did love her, that I loved her with a husband’s love, that she was mine and that her fate rested on my conscience. I could see that I was bound up with that creature for ever, irrevocably.
‘Listen to me, my darling, my treasure!’ I said. ‘This is a bold step. It will set us at loggerheads with our close friends, it will bring down on our heads a thousand reproaches and tearful complaints. It might even ruin my career, cause me thousands of insurmountable vexations! But it’s all decided, my darling. You will be my wife. I couldn’t ask for a better one and all those other women can go to hell! I shall make you happy, I’ll look after you, like the apple of my eye, as long as I live. I’ll educate you, make a woman of you. This I promise you – here is my honest hand on it!’
I spoke with genuine enthusiasm, with feeling, like a jeune premier43 acting the most dramatic part of his role. I spoke beautifully – and as if to emphasize my words a female eagle flying over our heads touched me with its wings. My Olya took my outstretched hand, held it in her tiny hands and tenderly kissed it. But it wasn’t a sign of consent: the stupid little face of that unworldly woman, who had never heard speeches before, expressed only bewilderment. Still she didn’t understand me.
‘You say that I should come to your place,’ she said, thinking hard. ‘I don’t quite understand you. Surely you realize what he would have to say about it?’
‘And how does what he would have to say concern you?’
‘Concern me? No, Seryozha, you’d better not say any more. You must stop this, please! You love me and I need nothing more. With a love like yours I could live in hell…’
‘But what will you do, you silly little girl?’
‘I shall go on living here and you can ride over every day! I shall come out of the house to meet you.’
‘I can’t imagine that kind of life without shivers running up and down my spine! At night there’ll be him; during the day – me No, it’s impossible, Olya. I love you so much now that… I’m even madly jealous… I didn’t suspect for one moment that I was capable of such feelings.’
Such indiscretion! There I was, holding her around the waist and she was tenderly stroking my hand when at any moment someone might come down the avenue and see us.
‘Let’s go,’ I said, taking my hands away. ‘Put your coat on and let’s go.’
‘But you’re in such a hurry,’ she murmured tearfully. ‘You’re hurrying as if you’re rushing to a fire… And God only knows what you’ve thought up! Running away right after my wedding! What will people say!’
And Olenka shrugged her shoulders. Her face was filled with such consternation, amazement and incomprehension that I gave everything up as hopeless and postponed my decision regarding this question of vital importance for her until the next time. Besides, there was no time to continue our conversation – as we went up the stone steps of the terrace we could hear people talking. Olenka tidied her hair at the dining-room door, checked her dress and went in. Her face showed no sign of embarrassment. Contrary to what I was expecting, she made a really brave entry.
‘Gentlemen! I’ve brought you back the fugitive!’ I announced, entering and taking my place at the table. ‘I had great difficulty finding her… I’m absolutely exhausted. I went into the garden and looked around – and there she was, strolling down the avenue, if you please! “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Well, it’s so stuffy in there!” she replied.’
She glanced at me, at the guests, at her husband and burst out laughing. Suddenly she felt amused, high-spirited. In her face I could read her longing to share the happiness that had come her way with all the company of diners. Unable to express it in words, she poured it out in her laughter.
‘How ridiculous I am!’ she said. ‘Here I am laughing and I myself don’t know the reason. Count, will you please laugh!’
‘It’s so sad!’ Kalinin shouted.
Urbenin coughed and looked quizzically at Olenka.
‘Well?’ she asked with a fleeting frown.
‘They keep shouting “It’s so sad”,’ Urbenin said as he got up, smirking and wiping his lips with his napkin.
Olenka stood up and let him kiss her motionless lips. It was an impersonal kiss, but it only kindled all the more the fire that was smouldering in my breast and threatening to burst into flames any moment. I turned away, pressed my lips together and waited for the dinner to finish. Fortunately the end came quickly, otherwise I could have stood it no longer.
‘Come here!’ I said rudely, going over to the Count after the dinner.
The Count looked at me in amazement and followed me into the empty room where I led him.
‘What do you want, old chap?’ he said, unbuttoning his waistcoat and belching.
‘You must choose one of us,’ I replied, barely able to stand from the anger that gripped me. ‘It’s either me or Pshekhotsky! If you don’t promise me that this scoundrel will be out of your estate within the hour I shall never set foot here again! I give you thirty seconds to reply!’
The Count let his cigar fall from his mouth and spread his arms out.
‘What’s the matter, Seryozha?’ he asked, opening his eyes wide. ‘You look terrible!’
‘Please don’t beat about the bush! I can’t stand that spy, that scoundrel, that rotter, that friend of yours – Pshekhotsky – and for the sake of our good relations I insist he clears out immediately!’
‘But what’s he done to you?’ the Count asked, greatly alarmed. ‘Why are you attacking him like this?’
‘I’m asking you: either me or him.’
‘But my dear chap, you’re putting me in an awfully ticklish position… wait, there’s a little feather on your coat… You’re asking me the impossible!’
‘Goodbye,’ I said. ‘You’re no longer a friend of mine.’
Turning sharply on my heels I went into the hall, put on my overcoat and hurried out of the house. As I was crossing the garden and making my way towards the servants’ kitchen, where I wanted to give orders for my horse to be saddled, something made me stop. Nadezhda Kalinin was coming towards me with a small cup of coffee in her hand. She too had been at Urbenin’s wedding, but some vague fear made me avoid conversation with her and the whole day I hadn’t once gone up to her or said a single word.
‘Sergey Petrovich,’ she said in an unnaturally low voice as I passed her and slightly raised my hat. ‘Stop!’
‘What do you want?’ I asked, going up to her.
‘I don’t want anything… you’re not my lackey,’ she said, staring at me and turning terribly pale. ‘You’re in a hurry to get somewhere. However, if you’re not too rushed, may I detain you for a moment?’
‘Of course… you don’t have to ask!’
‘In that case let’s sit down. You, Sergey Petrovich,’ she continued after we had sat down, ‘constantly ignored me all day long, you avoided me like the plague. So, just today I decided to have things out with you. I’m proud and selfish… I don’t want to thrust a meeting like this on you, but for once in my life I can sacrifice my pride.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Today I decided to ask you… it’s such a difficult, humiliating question for me… I don’t know how to put it. You don’t even look at me when you reply! Don’t you feel sorry for me, Sergey Petrovich?’
Nadya looked at me and feebly shook her head. Her face turned even paler, her upper lip trembled and twisted.
‘Sergey Petrovich! It seems that a certain misunderstanding, some kind of idle whim has put a distance between us. I think that if we were to have things out everything would be as it used to be. If I didn’t think this I wouldn’t have the determination to ask the question you’re about to hear. I’m unhappy, Sergey Petrovich. You must be able to see that. My life is no life at all… Everything has dried up. But the main thing is… there’s a kind of uncertainty, when one doesn’t know whether to hope or not. Your behaviour towards me is so hard to understand that it’s impossible to draw any firm conclusions from it. Tell me – and then I’ll know what to do. Then my life will at least have some direction. Then I can decide accordingly.’
‘There’s something you want to ask me, Nadezhda Nikolayevna,�
�� I said, mentally preparing an answer to the question I felt was coming.
‘Yes, I want to ask… it’s a humiliating question… if anyone should overhear he’d think I’m imposing myself on you, like Pushkin’s Tatyana.44 But it’s a question I’m forcing myself to ask.’
The question was in fact forced. When Nadya turned her face to me to ask it I took fright: she was trembling, convulsively pressing her fingers together as she squeezed out the fateful words depressingly slowly. She was terribly pale.
‘Dare I hope?’ she finally whispered. ‘Don’t be afraid, you can be quite frank with me. Whatever the answer, it’s better than this uncertainty. Well, dare I hope?’
She waited for an answer, but at that moment my mood was such that I felt incapable of any reasonable answer. Drunk, excited by the incident in the grotto, infuriated at Pshekhotsky’s spying and Olga’s indecision, having endured that stupid conversation with the Count, I could barely listen to Nadya.
‘Dare I hope?’ she repeated. ‘Please give me an answer!’
‘Well, I’m not up to giving any replies just now, Nadezhda Nikolayevna!’ I said dismissively as I stood up. ‘I’m incapable of giving any sort of answer at the moment… I’m sorry, but I neither heard nor understood you. I’m stupid and in a raging temper. But you’re upsetting yourself for nothing, really.’
I waved my arm again and left Nadya. It was only later, when I came to my senses, that I realized how stupid and cruel I had been for not giving that girl an answer to her simple, straightforward question. Why hadn’t I answered her?
Now, when I can view the past dispassionately, I cannot explain away my cruelty by my state of mind at the time. I feel that by not answering her I was flirting, play-acting. The hearts of other human beings are hard to comprehend, but it’s even harder to fathom one’s own. If in fact I was putting on an act, may God forgive me! However, mocking another’s suffering is unforgivable.
XIII
For three days I paced my room like a wolf in a cage, trying with all the strength of my exceptional will-power to stop myself leaving the house. I didn’t lay a finger on the piles of documents lying on the table and impatiently awaiting my attention. I received no one, argued with Polikarp, became irritable. I didn’t venture onto the Count’s estate and my obstinacy cost me enormous mental effort. A thousand times I must have picked up my hat – and thrown it down just as often. At times I decided to defy the whole world and go and see Olga, come what may, at others I would cold-bloodedly decide to stay at home.
The Shooting Party Page 14
