I headed straight for alyosha’s. He was living at his father’s place on Malaya Morskaya Street. The Prince had a fairly large apartment, despite the fact that he lived on his own. Alyosha occupied two splendid rooms in this apartment. I had rarely been to see him before – only once if I remember rightly. On the other hand, he used to look in at my place more often, especially at first, during the early stages of his relationship with Natasha.
He was out. I went straight to his rooms and wrote him the following note:
Alyosha, it seems you’ve gone mad. It was only last Tuesday night that your father personally asked Natasha to do you the honour of becoming your wife – a request you were happy to comply with, as witnessed by myself – and therefore you must surely agree your present behaviour is somewhat odd. Do you realize what you’re doing to Natasha? Be that as it may, my note will remind you that your attitude to your wife-to-be is extremely unworthy and inconsiderate. I fully realize that I’ve no right whatever to preach to you, but I couldn’t care less about that.
PS: She knows nothing of this letter, nor was it she who told me about you.
I sealed the note and left it on his table. When questioned, his servant replied that Alexei Petrovich was hardly ever in and that this time too he wasn’t expected till early the next day, before sunrise.
I just about managed to stagger home. My head was spinning, my legs were weak and shaking. The door to my room was not locked. In it I found Nikolai Sergeich Ikhmenev waiting for me. He was sitting at the table in silence and looking at Yelena with curiosity, who was staring back at him with no less curiosity and not uttering a word either. “Well, well,” I thought to myself, “she must strike him as rather odd.”
“There you are, my boy, I’ve been waiting a whole hour for you and, I must admit, I hadn’t expected… to find you like this,” he continued, looking around the room and winking furtively at Yelena. His eyes were filled with astonishment. But on looking at him closer, I noticed he was alarmed and dispirited. He was paler in the face than usual.
“Why don’t you sit down,” he continued with a preoccupied and flustered air, “there’s something I wanted to see you about urgently. But what’s the matter with you? You look awful.”
“I’m not well. I’ve been feeling dizzy since morning.”
“Well, take care, this is no laughing matter. Have you caught a cold?”
“No, it’s simply nerves. I get this sometimes. How about you, are you well?”
“Yes, as well as can be! It’s just that I’m a bit on edge. I want to talk to you. Why don’t you take a seat?”
I moved my chair closer and sat down at the table facing him. Ikhmenev leant across a little and began in a subdued tone, almost a whisper: “Try not to look at her and pretend we’re talking about something unimportant. Who’s the girl anyway?”
“I’ll explain everything later, Nikolai Sergeich. She’s a poor little girl, a complete orphan, granddaughter of that same Smith who used to live here and died in the coffee house.”
“Ah, so he had a granddaughter too! Well, my friend, she’s a funny one and no mistake! All she does is stare! I tell you – if you hadn’t come for another five minutes, I couldn’t have stood it any longer. It was a job to get her to open the door, and so far not a word out of her. She gives me the creeps – a bit weird, isn’t she? So how did she get here? Ah, I get it, probably came to see her granddad, not knowing he was dead.”
“Yes. She was very miserable. The old man remembered her before he died.”
“Hm! Like granddad, like granddaughter. You’ll have to tell me all about it later. Might even be able to help her somehow, in some little way, if she’s so destitute… As for now, my boy, couldn’t you tell her to leave us alone for a while, because I’ve a serious matter to discuss with you?”
“But she’s got nowhere else to go. She lives here.”
I explained the situation to Ikhmenev as best I could in a few words, adding that one could talk in front of her, as she was only a child.
“Well yes… of course, a child. Only, my dear chap, I’m absolutely flabbergasted. She lives with you, does she? God almighty!”
And Ikhmenev glanced at her once more in astonishment. Yelena, sensing that we were talking about her, sat silent, her head bowed, picking with her fingers at the edging of the settee. She had already put on her new frock which turned out to be just right for her. Her hair had been smoothed down with more care than usual, maybe because of the new frock. On the whole, had it not been for the strange wild-eyed obduracy of her gaze, she’d have looked a very comely girl.
“To put it in a nutshell, it’s like this, my boy,” Ikhmenev began again, “it’s a long and serious business…”
He sat, his head bowed, wearing a grave and astute expression on his face, and, in spite of his hurried manner and his “in a nutshell”, was unable to find the words to begin his speech. “What next?” I thought to myself.
“You see, Vanya, I’ve come to ask you for a very big favour. But before that… as I see it, I need to explain certain facts to you… and very tricky they are…”
He cleared his throat and glanced at me; his face flushed. Irritated at his inability to find the right words, he nevertheless pulled himself together. “Well, what’s the use beating about the bush! You know what I mean. The long and the short of it is I’m challenging the Prince to a duel and would ask you to see to the arrangements and be my second.”
I threw myself back in my chair and stared at him in utter bewilderment.
“Well, what are you staring at! I haven’t gone mad, you know.”
“But hang on, Nikolai Sergeich! On what grounds, to what end? And if you ask me, how can this possibly?…”
“Grounds! End!” the old man exclaimed. “A fine kettle of fish!…”
“All right, all right, I know what you’re going to say. But what would be the good of your extravaganza! How could a duel resolve anything? I have to admit, I don’t understand a thing.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand anything. Listen, the lawsuit’s over. (That is, it will be in the next few days. All that remain are some petty formalities.) I’ve lost the case. I have to pay ten thousand roubles. That’s the judgement of the court. It’s all got to come out of Ikhmenevka. Consequently, the villain can count on getting his money, and I, by giving up Ikhmenevka, will have paid my dues and shall be a free agent again. It’s at this point I can turn round and say proudly, ‘This is how things stand between us, my dear Prince, you’ve been insulting me for the last two years, you’ve dragged my name and my family’s reputation through the mud, and I had to grin and bear it! I couldn’t have challenged you to a duel then, or you’d have just said, “You’re a smart one, aren’t you? All you want is to kill me to avoid parting with the money that you expect the court will order you to pay me sooner or later! No, let’s first see how the trial goes, then you can go ahead and challenge me.” My dear Prince, the trial’s now over and your money’s safe; consequently there are no more obstacles, so would you mind choosing your weapon?’ That’s the long and the short of it. So, what do you say, am I not at long last entitled to avenge myself for the lot!”
His eyes were flashing. I looked at him in silence for a long time. I wanted to plumb his innermost thoughts.
“Listen, Nikolai Sergeich,” I replied at last, determined to get to the heart of the matter or we would never come to an understanding, “can you be perfectly frank with me?”
“I can,” he replied resolutely.
“So tell me honestly, is it just vengeance which motivates you to throw down the gauntlet, or have you got some other reasons at the back of your mind?”
“Vanya,” he replied, “you know there are certain issues I shan’t permit anyone to touch upon when talking to me, but on this occasion I’m going to make an exception, because you’ve been astute enough to realize at once that we can’t skirt round the matter. Yes, I do have another reason. And it is this – to save my fallen daughter and rescue her from the disaster into which she has been plunged by the latest circumstances.”
“But how will you save her with this duel? That’s the question.”
“By totally queering their pitch. Listen, don’t imagine I’m influenced by some kind of paternal affection or suchlike sloppy sentiments. It’s all utter nonsense! Nobody knows what goes on in my head, you included. My daughter has left me, she left my home to be with her lover, and I tore her out of my heart, tore her out once and for all, that very evening – do you remember? If you saw me shed tears over her portrait, it doesn’t follow that I wish to forgive her. I didn’t forgive her then either. I wept for lost happiness, for hope forlorn, but not for her, not the way she is now. Perhaps I cry and cry often. I’m not embarrassed to admit it, as I’m not embarrassed to admit that I once loved my child more than anything in the world. All this apparently cuts right across what I’m minded to do at present. You might say to me: if that’s so, if you’re indifferent to the fate of the girl whom you no longer regard as your daughter, why then do you meddle in what’s being plotted there? I reply: first, because I don’t want a low and treacherous person to triumph, and second, because of the most ordinary love for a fellow human being. Even if she’s no longer my daughter, she’s still a weak, vulnerable and deluded creature, who is continually being led astray, even to her final ruination. I cannot intervene in this matter directly – but indirectly, by way of a duel, that’s another matter. If I’m killed or my blood is spilt, is she really going to walk across our duelling ground, or perhaps over my dead body, to go to the altar with the son of my murderer – like the daughter of that king* (you remember the book we had that you learnt to read from), who drove her chariot over her father’s body? And finally, if it does come to a duel, our two princes won’t be so keen for the marriage to go ahead anyway. In a word, I don’t want this marriage and shall do everything in my power to prevent it. Do you follow me now?”
“No. If you have Natasha’s good at heart, what right do you have to stop the marriage which alone can restore her good name? She’s still got all her life ahead of her. She needs her good name.”
“To hell with all social conventions, that’s how she should argue! She must realize that the greatest ignominy for her lies in this very marriage, this union with these vile people, this contemptible social set. Dignified scorn should be her response to society. Perhaps in that case even I might be persuaded to put my hand out to her, and we’d see who would then dare to offend my child.”
Such desperate idealism astonished me. But I immediately realized that he was not himself and spoke in the heat of the moment.
“That is too high-minded,” I replied, “and consequently cruel. You demand from her a strength with which you have perhaps not endowed her at birth. And do you really think she is agreeing to this marriage because she wants to become a princess? This is love. This is passion. This is fate. And finally, you expect her to ignore public opinion, while you yourself are only too ready to bow to it. The Prince has offended you, he has publicly accused you of a sordid and dishonest attempt to marry your daughter into his titled family, and this is how your argument now runs: if she herself were to turn down their formal proposal, it would naturally be the most convincing and obvious denial of the slander. That is what you are after, you subscribe to the same view as the Prince, you want him to admit his own mistake. You are anxious to make him look ridiculous, to wreak revenge upon him, and to this end you are ready to sacrifice your daughter’s happiness. If that isn’t selfishness, I don’t know what is!”
Ikhmenev sat for a long time frowning in glum silence.
“You’re unfair to me, Vanya,” he said at last, and a tear glistened beneath his eyelids, “unfair – I swear to you, but let that pass! I cannot bare my heart before you,” he continued, rising from the chair and reaching for his hat. “Just let me say one thing: you mentioned my daughter’s happiness just now. I absolutely and categorically have no faith whatever in this happiness, quite apart from the fact that even without my intervention this marriage will never take place.”
“Why is that?” I exclaimed with curiosity. “What makes you think so? Perhaps you know something?”
“No, I’m not privy to anything in particular. But that damned fox couldn’t have agreed to this matter. There must be something behind it – it’s a trap. I’m sure of it and, mark my words, that’s how it’ll be. Second, even if this marriage were to take place – that is, in accordance with some special, mysterious plan which that scoundrel can profit from and he alone knows anything about, because I certainly don’t – then judge for yourself, ask yourself this question: could she find happiness in that marriage? Rebukes, neglect, a mere stripling for a fiancé who’s already tiring of her love, but as soon as he marries – the end to all respect, just insults and abuse. Strong passion on her side, gradual cooling-off on his – jealousy, heartache, living hell, divorce, crime itself perhaps… no, Vanya! If that’s what’s being hatched and what you’re aiding and abetting, then, I swear, you’ll be answerable before God, but it’ll be too late! Goodbye!”
I stopped him.
“Listen, Nikolai Sergeich, let’s come to an agreement – let’s wait. Rest assured, there are others too who are keeping a close eye on the matter, and perhaps it’ll all resolve itself in the best possible manner, of its own accord, without any violent and extraneous interference, such as this duel for instance. Time’s the best healer! And lastly, permit me to tell you, your proposal is just not feasible. Did you really think even for a moment that the Prince would accept your challenge?”
“Why shouldn’t he? Come now, be sensible!”
“I swear to you, he wouldn’t, and believe me, he’d come up with a perfectly adequate excuse. It would be done with every semblance of correctness, but as a result you’d be made a laughing stock…”
“Have a heart, my boy, say no more! This is too much! How could he not accept! No, Vanya, you’re simply a dreamer – you are, yes – you don’t understand a thing! Are you telling me I’m not a worthy opponent in a duel, or what? I’m no worse than him. I’m an old man, an aggrieved father. You’re a Russian man of letters, therefore also perfectly respectable and well suited to be a second and… and… I’ve no idea what more you want…”
“You’ll see. He’ll come up with such excuses that you’ll be the first to agree that duelling with him is totally out of the question.
“Hm… all right, my boy, have it your way! I’ll grin and bear it, for the time being, of course. Let time take its course. But look here, my boy – I want you to give me your word of honour not to reveal our conversation either to them or to Anna Andreyevna.”
“Certainly.”
“Another thing, Vanya, do me a favour, don’t ever bring this matter up with me again.”
“All right, I give you my word.”
“And, finally, one more thing: I know, my dear chap, you must perhaps be bored to tears at our place, but come and see us more often if you can. My poor Anna Andreyevna loves you so, and… and… she misses you… you understand me, Vanya?”
And he shook my hand firmly. I gave him a hearty promise.
“And now, Vanya, just before I go, one last ticklish matter – are you short of money?”
“Money?” I repeated in surprise.
“Yes,” and the old man blushed and lowered his eyes. “This place of yours, my dear chap… the way you live… and when I think that you probably have other additional expenses, now especially, that’s why… here, take this, hundred and fifty roubles, to start with…”
“Hundred and fifty roubles, and only to start with, after losing your case!”
“Vanya, as I see it, you don’t understand me at all! Surely there can be such things as emergency needs, you must realize it. Money brings personal independence, freedom of action. Perhaps you don’t need it this very minute, but might you not need it for something in the future? Anyway, I’ll leave it here with you. It’s all I can scrape together. If you don’t spend it, you can give it back to me. But goodbye for now! God, how pale you are! My word, you’re quite ill…”
I did not object and took the money. It was only too obvious why he was leaving it for me.
“I can barely stand on my feet,” I replied.
“You should take care of yourself, Vanya, my dear fellow, you really should! Don’t go out today. I’ll tell Anna Andreyevna the state you’re in. Do you need a doctor? I’ll look you up tomorrow – I’ll do my best, if I haven’t given up the ghost myself that is. Why don’t you lie down for now?… Well, goodbye! Goodbye, young lady! She’s turned away! Listen, my boy! Here’s another five roubles – it’s for the little girl. By the way, I’d rather you didn’t tell her I gave it, just go ahead and spend it on her, a pair of shoes or what not, some underwear… there’s so many things she might need! Goodbye, my boy!…”
I saw him to the house gate. I had to ask the caretaker to fetch some food. Yelena still hadn’t had her tea…