II
Ilyin, the cornet of uhlans, had not long been awake. The evening before, he had sat down at the gambling-table at eight o'clock, and lost for fifteen consecutive hours, till eleven o'clock that day. He had lost a great amount, but exactly how much he did not know, because he had had three thousand rubles of his money, and fifteen thousand belonging to the treasury, which he had long ago mixed up with his own, and he did not dare to settle his accounts lest his anticipations that he had made too great inroads on the public money should be confirmed.
He went to sleep about noon, and slept that heavy, dreamless sleep, peculiar to very young men who have been losing heavily. Waking at six, about the time that Count Turbin had arrived at the hotel, and seeing cards and chalk and soiled tables scattered around him in confusion in the room, he remembered with horror the evening's games, and the last card, a knave, which had lost him five hundred rubles; but, still scarcely believing in the reality, he drew out from under his pillow his money, and began to count it. He recognized a few notes which, with corners turned down and indorsements, had gone from hand to hand around the table; he remembered all the particulars. He had lost his own three thousand rubles, and twenty-five hundred belonging to the treasury had disappeared.
The uhlan had been playing for four nights in succession.
He had come from Moscow, where the public money had been intrusted to him. At K. the post-superintendent had detained him under the pretext that there were no post-horses, but in reality in accordance with his agreement with the hotel-keeper to detain all visitors for a day.
The uhlan, who was a gay young fellow, and had just received from his parent three thousand rubles for his military equipment, was glad to spend a few days in the city of K. during the elections, and counted on having a good time.
He knew a landed proprietor whose family lived there, and he was preparing to call upon him and pay his addresses to his daughter, when the cavalryman appeared, and made his acquaintance. That very evening, without malice prepense, he took him down into the parlor, and introduced him to his friends, Lukhnof and several other gamblers. From that time, the uhlan had kept steadily at gaming, and not only had not called on the proprietor, but had not thought of inquiring further for horses, and for four days had not left his room.
After he had dressed, and taken his tea, he went to the window. He felt an inclination to go out so as to dispel the importunate recollections of the game. He put on his cloak, and went into the street.
The sun had just sunk behind the white houses with their red roofs. It was already twilight. It was warm. The snow was softly falling in big, damp flakes, in the muddy streets. His mind suddenly became filled with unendurable melancholy at the thought that he had spent all that day in sleep, and now the day was done.
"This day which has gone, will never come back again," he said to himself.
"I have wasted my youth," he suddenly exclaimed, not because he really felt that he had wasted his youth, – he did not think about it at all, – but simply this phrase came into his head.
"What shall I do now?" he reasoned; "borrow of some one, and go away?"
A lady was passing along the sidewalk.
"What a stupid woman!" he said to himself for some reason.
"There's no one I can borrow of. I have wasted my youth."
He came to a block of stores. A merchant in a fox-skin shuba was standing at the door of his shop, and inviting custom.
"If I hadn't taken the eight, I should have won."
A little old beggar-woman followed him, snivelling.
"I have no one to borrow of."
A gentleman in a bear-skin shuba passed him. A policeman was standing on the corner.
"What can I do that will make sensation? Fire a pistol at them? No! That would be stupid. I have wasted my youth. Akh! what a splendid harness that is hanging in that shop! I should like to be riding behind a troïka!.. Ekh! you fine fellows!61 I am going back. Lukhnof will be there pretty soon, and we'll have a game."
He returned to the hotel, and once more counted his money. No, he was not mistaken the first time; twenty-five hundred rubles of public money were missing, just as before.
"I will put up twenty-five rubles first; the next time, a quarter stake; then on seven, on fifteen, on thirty, and on sixty … three thousand. I will buy that harness, and start. He won't give me any odds, the villain! I have wasted my youth!"
This was what was passing through the uhlan's mind just as Lukhnof himself came into the room.
"Well, have you been up long, Mikháïlo Vasílyitch?" inquired Lukhnof, deliberately removing from his thin nose his gold eye-glasses, and carefully wiping them with a red silk handkerchief.
"No, only just this minute. I had a splendid sleep!"
"A new hussar has just come. He is staying with Zavalshevsky. Had you heard about it?"
"No, I hadn't. Well, no one seems to be here yet. I believe they have gone to call on Priakhin. They'll be here very soon."
In fact, in a short time there came into the room an officer of the garrison, who was always hovering round Lukhnof; a Greek merchant with a huge hooked nose, cinnamon complexion, and deep-set black eyes; a stout, puffy proprietor, a brandy-distiller who gambled all night long, and always made his stakes on the basis of half a ruble. All of these wished to begin playing as promptly as possible, but the more daring players said nothing about it; Lukhnof, in particular, with perfect equanimity, told stories of rascality in Moscow.
"Just think of it," said he, "Moscow, the metropolis, the capital; and there they go out at night with crooks, dressed like demons; and they scare the stupid people, and rob pedestrians, and that is the end of it. Do the police notice it? No! It is astonishing!"
The uhlan listened attentively to the tales of these highwaymen, but finally got up and unobtrusively ordered cards to be brought. The stout proprietor was the first to notice it.
"Well, gentlemen, we are wasting golden moments. To work, let us to work!"
"Yes, you won by the half-ruble last evening, and so you like it," exclaimed the Greek.
"It's a good time to begin," said the garrison officer.
Ilyin looked at Lukhnof. Lukhnof, returning his gaze, went on calmly with his story of the robbers who dressed themselves up like devils. "Will you start the bank?" asked the uhlan.
"Isn't it rather early?"
"Byélof!" cried the uhlan, reddening for some reason or other; "bring me something to eat… I haven't had any dinner to-day, gentlemen. Bring some champagne, and distribute the cards."
A this moment, the count and Zavalshevsky entered. It proved that Turbin and Ilyin were in the same division. They immediately struck up an acquaintance, drank a glass of champagne, clinking their glasses together, and in five minutes were calling each other "thou."
It was evident that Ilyin made a very pleasant impression on the count. The count smiled whenever he looked at him, and was amused at his freshness.
"What a fine young uhlan!" he said, "what a mustache! what a splendid mustache!"
Ilyin's upper lip bore the first down of a mustache, that was as yet almost white.
"You were preparing to play, were you not?" asked the count. "Well, I should like to win from you, Ilyin. I think that you must be a master," he added smiling.
"Yes, we were just starting in," replied Lukhnof, opening a pack of cards… "Aren't you going to join us, count?"
"No, I won't to-night. If I did there wouldn't be any thing left of any of you! When I take a hand I always break the bank. But I haven't any money just now. I lost at Volotchok, at the station-house. It was by some sort of infantry-man who wore rings; what a cheat he was! and he cleaned me out completely."
"Were you long there at the station?" asked Ilyin.
"I staid there twenty-two hours. I shall not forget that station, curse it! and the superintendent won't forget it either."
"Why?"
"I got there, you see; the superintendent comes out, rascally face, the liar! 'There are no horses,' said he. Well, now I must tell you, I have made a rule in such cases: when there are no horses, I keep on my shuba, and go straight to the superintendent's room, – not the waiting-room, mind you, but the superintendent's own room, – and I have all the windows and doors opened, as though it were stifling. Well, that's what I did here. Cold! you remember how cold it has been this last month; twenty degrees below. The superintendent began to remonstrate. I knock his teeth in for him. There was some old woman there; and some young girls and peasant-women62 set up a piping, were going to seize their pots and fly to the village… I go to the door, and say, 'Let me have horses, and I'll go away: if you don't, I won't let you out, I'll freeze you all to death.'"
"What an admirable way!" said the puffy proprietor, bursting out into a laugh. "That's the way one would freeze out cockroaches."
"But I wasn't sufficiently on my guard: the superintendent and all his women managed to get out and run away. Only the old woman remained on the oven as my hostage. She kept sniffing, and offering prayers to God. Then we entered into negotiations. The superintendent came back, and, standing at a distance, tried to persuade me to let the old woman go. But I set Blücher on him: Blücher is a magnificent dog to take care of superintendents. Even then the rascal did not let me have horses till the next morning. And then came along that footpad! I went into the next room, and began to play. Have you seen Blücher? – Blücher! Fiu!" Blücher came running in. The players received him with flattering attention, although it was evident that they were anxious to get to work at entirely different matters.
"By the way, gentlemen, why don't you begin your game? I beg of you, don't let me interfere with you. You see I am a chatterbox," said Turbin. "Whether you love or not, 'tis an excellent thing."
III
Lukhnof took two candles, brought out a huge dark-colored pocket-book full of money; slowly, as though performing some sacrament, opened it on the table; took out two one-hundred-ruble notes, and laid them on the cards.
"There, just the same as last evening; the bank begins with two hundred," said he, adjusting his glasses, and opening a pack of cards.
"Very well," said Ilyin, not glancing at him, or interrupting his conversation with Turbin.
The game began. Lukhnof kept the bank with mechanical regularity, occasionally pausing, and deliberately making notes, or looking sternly over his glasses, and saying in a weak voice, "Throw."
The stout proprietor talked louder than the rest, making various calculations at the top of his voice, while he wet his clumsy fingers and dog-eared his cards.
The garrison officer silently wrote in a fine hand his account on a card, turned down small corners, pressing them against the table.
The Greek sat next the banker, attentively following the game with his deep black eyes, as though waiting for something.
Zavalshevsky, as he stood by the table, would suddenly become all of a tremble, draw from his trousers-pocket a blue note or a red,63 lay a card on it, pound on it with his palm, and say, "Bring me luck, little seven!" then he would bite his mustache, change from one leg to the other, and be in a continual state of excitement until the card came out.
Ilyin, who had been eating veal and cucumbers placed near him on the haircloth sofa, briskly wiped his hands on his coat, and began to put down one card after another.
Turbin, who had taken his seat at first on the sofa, immediately noticed that something was wrong. Lukhnof did not look at the uhlan, or say any thing to him; but occasionally his eyes for an instant rested on the uhlan's hands. The most of his cards lost.
"If I could only trump that little card," exclaimed Lukhnof in reference to one of the stout proprietor's cards. He was still making half-ruble wagers.
"Trump Ilyin's instead: what would be the use of trumping mine?" replied the proprietor.
And, in point of fact, Ilyin's cards were trumped oftener than the others'. He nervously tore up his losing card under the table, and with trembling hands chose another.
Turbin arose from the sofa, and asked the Greek to give him his place next the banker. The Greek changed places; and the count, taking his chair, and not moving his eyes, began to watch Lukhnof's hands attentively.
"Ilyin," said he suddenly in his ordinary voice, which, entirely contrary to his desire, drowned out the others, "why do you stick to those routine cards? You don't know how to play!"
"Supposing I don't, it's all the same."
"You'll lose that way surely. Let me play against the bank for you."
"No, excuse me, I beg of you. I'm always this way. Play for yourself if you like."
"I have told you that I am not going to play. But I should like to play for you. I hate to see you losing so."
"Ah, well! you see it's my luck."
The count said nothing more, and leaning on his elbow began once more to watch the banker's hand just as attentively as before.
"Shameful!" he suddenly cried in a loud voice, dwelling on the word.
Lukhnof glared at him.
"Shameful, shameful!" he repeated still louder, staring straight into Lukhnof's eyes.
The game continued.
"That is not right!" said Turbin again, as Lukhnof trumped one of Ilyin's high cards.
"What displeases you, count?" politely asked the banker with an air of indifference.
"Because you give Ilyin a simplum, and turn down your corners. That's what is shameful!"
Lukhnof made a slight motion with his shoulders and brows, signifying that he was resigned to any fate, and then he went on with the game.
"Blücher, fiu!" cried the count, rising; "over with him!" he added quickly. Blücher, bumping against the sofa with his back, and almost knocking the garrison officer from his feet, came leaping toward his master, looking at every one and wagging his tail as though he would ask, "Who is misbehaving here, hey?"
Lukhnof laid down the cards, and moved his chair away. "This is no way to play," said he. "I detest dogs. What kind of a game can you have if a whole pack of hounds is to be brought in?"
"Especially that kind of dog: they are called blood-suckers, if I am not mistaken," suggested the garrison officer.
"Well, are we to play or not, Mikháïlo Vasílyitch?" asked Lukhnof, addressing the uhlan.
"Don't bother us, count, I beg of you," said Ilyin, turning to Turbin.
"Come here for a moment," said Turbin, taking Ilyin's arm, and drawing him into the next room.
There the count's words were perfectly audible, though he spoke in his ordinary tone. But his voice was so powerful that it could always be heard three rooms off.
"Are you beside yourself? Don't you see that that man with the glasses is a cheat of the worst order?"
"Hey? Nonsense! Be careful what you say."
"No nonsense! but quit it, I tell you. It makes no difference to me. Another time I myself would have plucked you; but now I am sorry to see you ruining yourself. Have you any public money left?"
"No. What makes you think so about him?"
"Brother, I have been over this same road, and I know the ways of these professional gamblers. I tell you that the man in the glasses is a cheat. Quit, please. I ask you as a comrade."
"All right; I'll have just one more hand, and then have done with it."
"I know what that 'one more' means: very well, we will see."
They returned to the gaming-table. In one deal he laid down so many cards, and they were trumped so badly, that he lost a large amount.
Turbin rested his hand in the middle of the table, and said, "That's enough! now let us be going."
"No, I can't go yet; leave me, please," said Ilyin in vexation, shuffling the bent cards and not looking at Turbin.
"All right! the Devil be with you! Lose all you've got, if that please you; but it's time for me to be going. – Come, Zavalshevsky, let us go to the marshal's."
And they went out. No one spoke, and Lukhnof did not make the bank until the noise of their feet and of Blücher's paws had died away down the corridor.
"That's a madcap," said the proprietor, smiling.
"Well, now he won't bother us any more," said the garrison officer in a hurried whisper.
And the game went on.
IV
The band, composed of the marshal's domestic serfs, were stationed in the butler's pantry, which had been put in order on account of the ball, and, having turned up the sleeves of their coats, had begun at the signal of their leader to play the ancient polonaise "Aleksandr, Yelisaviéta;" and under the soft, brilliant light of the wax candles, the couples began to move in tripping measure through the great ballroom; a governor-general of Catherine's time, with a star, taking out the gaunt wife of the marshal, the marshal with the governor's wife, and so on through all the hierarchy of the government in various combinations and variations, – when Zavalshevsky in a blue coat with a huge collar, and epaulets on his shoulders, and wearing stockings and pumps, and exhaling about him an odor of jasmine with which he had plentifully drenched his mustaches, the facings of his coat, and his handkerchief, entered with the handsome count, who wore tight-fitting blue trousers and a red pelisse embroidered with gold, and wearing on his breast the cross of Vladímir and a medal of 1812.
The count was of medium height, but had an extremely handsome figure. His clear blue eyes of remarkable brilliancy, and dark hair which was rather long and fell in thick ringlets, gave his beauty a peculiar character.
The count's presence at the ball was not unexpected. The handsome young man who had seen him at the hotel had already spoken of him to the marshal.
The impressions made by this announcement were of various kinds, but on the whole were not altogether pleasant.
"I suppose this young man will turn us into ridicule," was what the old women and the men said to themselves.
"Suppose he should run off with me," was what the wives and young ladies thought, with more or less apprehension.
As soon as the polonaise was finished, and the couples had made each other low bows, once more the women formed little groups by themselves, and the men by themselves. Zavalshevsky, proud and happy, led the count up to the hostess.
The marshal's wife, conscious of a certain inward trepidation lest this hussar should make her the cause of some scandal before everybody, said proudly and scornfully, as she turned away, "Very glad to see you. I hope that you will dance." And then she looked at the count mistrustfully with an expression that seemed to say, "Now, if you insult any woman, then you are a perfect scoundrel after this."
The count, however, quickly overcame this prejudice by his amiability, his politeness, and his handsome jovial appearance; so that in five minutes the expression on the face of the marshal's wife plainly declared to all who stood around her, "I know how to manage all these men. He immediately realized whom he was talking with. And now he will be charming to me all the rest of the evening."
Moreover, just then the governor, who had known his father, came up to the count, and very graciously drew him to one side, and entered into conversation with him, which still more pleased the fashionable society of the town, and raised the count in their estimation.
Then Zavalshevsky presented the count to his sister, a plump young widow, who, ever since the count entered the room, had kept her big black eyes fastened upon him.
The count asked the little widow for the waltz which at that moment the musicians had struck up, and it was his artistic dancing that conquered the last vestiges of the popular prejudice.
"Ah, he's a master at dancing!" said a stout lady, following the legs in blue trousers which were flashing through the ballroom, and mentally counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three, – he's a master."
"How gracefully he moves his feet! how gracefully!" said another guest, who did not stand very high in the governmental society. "How does he manage to not hit any one with his spurs? Wonderful, very skilful!"
The count, by his skill in dancing, eclipsed the three best dancers of the city. These were, a governor's aide, a tall albino, who was famous for his rapid dancing and because he held the lady pressed very close to his breast; secondly, the cavalryman, who was famous for his graceful swaying during the waltz, and for his frequent but light tapping with his heels; and thirdly, a civilian of whom everybody said, that, though he was not very strong-minded, yet he was an admirable dancer and the life of all balls.
In point of fact, this civilian from the beginning to the end of a ball invariably invited all the ladies in the order in which they sat, did not cease for a moment to dance, and only occasionally paused to wipe his weary but still radiant face with his cambric handkerchief, which would become wet through.
The count had surpassed them all, and had danced with the three principal ladies, – with the stout one, who was rich, handsome, and stupid; with the middle-sized one, who was lean, and not particularly good-looking, but handsomely dressed; and with the little one, who was not pretty, but very witty.
He had danced also with others, – with all the pretty women, and there were many pretty women there.
But the little widow, Zavalshevsky's sister, pleased the count more than all the rest; with her he danced a quadrille and a schottische and a mazurka.
At first, when they took their places for the quadrille, he overwhelmed her with compliments, comparing her to Venus and Diana, and to a rosebush, and to some other flower besides.
To all these amenities the little widow only bent her white neck, modestly dropped her eyes, and, looking at her white muslin dress, changed her fan from one hand to the other.
When, at last, she said, "This is too much, count; you are jesting," etc., her voice, which was rather guttural, betrayed such naïve simplicity of heart and amusing naturalness that the count, as he looked at her, actually compared her, not to a flower or to a rosebush, but to some kind of a pinkish-white wild-flower, exuberant and odorless, growing alone on a virgin snow-drift in some far, far-distant land.
Such a strange impression was made upon the count by this union of naïveté and unconventionality together with fresh beauty, that several times, in the pauses of the conversation, when he looked silently into her eyes or contemplated the loveliness of her arms and neck, the desire came over him with such vehemence to take her into his arms and kiss her again and again, that he was really obliged to restrain himself.
The little widow was quite satisfied with the impression which she perceived that she had made; but there was something in the count's behavior that began to disquiet her, and fill her with apprehensions, though the young hussar was not only flatteringly amiable, but even, to an extravagant degree, deferential in his treatment of her.
He ran to get orgeat for her, picked up her handkerchief, snatched a chair from the hands of a scrofulous young proprietor, who was also anxious to pay her attention, and who was not quick enough. But perceiving that these assiduities, which were fashionable at that period, had little effect in making the lady well-disposed, he began to amuse her by telling her ridiculous anecdotes: he assured her that he was ready at a moment's notice to stand on his head, or to crow like a cock, or to jump out of the window, or to fling himself into a hole in the ice.
This procedure was a brilliant success: the little widow became very gay; she rippled with laughter, displaying her marvellous white teeth, and became entirely satisfied with her cavalier. The count each moment grew more and more enchanted with her, so that at the end of the quadrille he was really in love with her.
After the quadrille, when she was approached by her former admirer, a young man of eighteen, the son of a very rich proprietor, the same scrofulous young man from whom Turbin had snatched away the chair, she received him with perfect coolness, and not one-tenth part of the constraint was noticeable in her which she felt when she was with the count.
"You are very kind," she said, all the time gazing at Turbin's back, and unconsciously reckoning how many yards64 of gold-lace were used for his whole jacket. "You are very kind; you promised to come to take me for a walk, and to bring me some comfits."
"Well, I did come, Anna Fedorovna, but you weren't at home, and I left the very best comfits for you," said the young man, in a voice that was very thin, considering his height.
"You always are provided with excuses; I don't need your comfits. Please do not think"…
"I begin to see, Anna Fedorovna, how you have changed toward me, and I know why. But it is not right," he added, but without finishing his remark, evidently owing to some powerful interior emotion, which caused his lips to tremble strangely.
Anna Fedorovna did not heed him, and continued to follow Turbin with her eyes. The marshal, at whose house the ball was given, – a big, stout old man, who had lost his teeth, – came up to the count, and, taking him by the arm, invited him into his library to smoke and drink if he so desired.
As soon as Turbin disappeared, Anna Fedorovna felt that there was absolutely nothing for her to do in the ballroom, and slipping her hand through the arm of a dried-up old maid, who was a friend of hers, went with her into the dressing-room.
"Well, what do you think of him? Is he nice?" asked the old maid.
"Only it's terrible – the way he follows you up!" said Anna Fedorovna, going to the mirror, and contemplating herself in it.
Her face was aglow, her eyes were full of mischief, her color was heightened; then suddenly imitating one of the ballet-dancers whom she had seen during election time, she pirouetted round on one toe, and, laughing her guttural but sweet laugh, she leaped up in the air, crossing her knees.
"What a man he is! he even asked me for a souvenir," she confided to her friend. "But he will ne-e-ver get one," she said, singing the last words, and lifting one finger in the lilac-colored glove that reached to her elbow.
In the library where Turbin was conducted by the marshal, stood various kinds of vodka, liqueurs, edibles,65 and champagne. In a cloud of tobacco-smoke the nobility were sitting, or walking up and down, talking about the elections.
"When the whole of the high nobility of our district has honored him with an election," exclaimed the newly elected isprávnik who was already tolerably tipsy, "he certainly ought not to fail in his duties toward society in general."
The conversation was interrupted by the count's coming. All were presented to him, and the isprávnik especially pressed his hand long between both of his, and asked him several times to go with him after the ball to the new tavern, where he would treat the gentlemen of the nobility, and where they would hear the gypsies sing.
The count accepted his invitation, and drank with him several glasses of champagne.
"Why aren't you dancing, gentlemen?" he asked, as he was about to leave the library.
"We aren't dancers," replied the isprávnik, laughing. "We prefer the wine, count; and besides, all these young ladies have grown up under my eyes, count. But still, I do sometimes take part in a schottische, count. I can do it, count."
"Come on then for a while," said Turbin. "Let us have some sport before we go to the gypsies."
"What say you, gentlemen? Let us come! Let us delight our host!"
And the three gentlemen who, since the beginning of the ball, had been drinking in the library and had very red faces, began to draw on their gloves, some of black kid, another of knit silk, and were just going with the count to the ballroom, when they were detained by the scrofulous young man, who, pale as a sheet, and scarcely able to refrain from tears, came straight up to Turbin.
"You have an idea, because you are a count, you can run into people as if you were at a fair," said he, with difficulty drawing his breath; "hence it isn't fitting" —
Once more the stream of his speech was interrupted by the involuntary trembling of his lips.
"What?" cried Turbin, frowning suddenly, "what?.. You're a baby," he cried, seizing him by the arm, and squeezing it so that the blood rushed to the young man's head, not so much from vexation as from fright. "What is it? Do you want to fight? If so, I am at your service."
Turbin had scarcely let go of his arm, which he had squeezed so powerfully, when two nobles seized the young man by the sleeve, and carried him off through a back door.
"What! have you lost your wits? You've surely been drinking too much. We shall have to tell your papa. What's the matter with you?" they asked.
"No, I haven't been drinking; but he ran into me, and did not apologize. He's a hog, that's what he is," whined the young man, now actually in tears.
Nevertheless they paid no attention to him, but carried him off home.
"Never mind, count," said the isprávnik and Zavalshevsky assuringly. "He's a mere child. They still whip him: he's only sixteen years old. It's hard to tell what is to be done with him. What fly stung him? And his father is such an honorable man! He's our candidate."
"Well, the Devil take him if he refuses"…
And the count returned to the ballroom, and, as gayly as before, danced the schottische with the pretty little widow, and laughed heartily when he saw the antics of the gentlemen who had come with him out of the library. There was a general burst of merriment all through the ballroom when the isprávnik tripped, and measured his length on the floor in the midst of the dancers.