The Queen of Spades, and other stories
point of leaving, he said in a low voice:
"I want to speak to you."
I stopped behind.
The guests had gone and we were left alone.
Sitting down opposite one another we lighted our pipes. Silvio was much
agitated, no traces of his former gaiety remained. Deadly pale, with
sparkling eyes, and a thick smoke issuing from his mouth, he looked
like a demon. Several minutes passed before he broke silence.
"Perhaps we shall never meet again," he said. "Before saying goodbye I
want to have a few words with you. You may have remarked that I care
little for the opinion of others. But I like you, and should be sorry
to leave you under a wrong impression."
He paused, and began refilling his pipe. I looked down and was silent.
"You thought it odd," he continued, "that I did not require
satisfaction from that drunken maniac. You will grant, however, that
being entitled to the choice of weapons I had his life more or less in
my hands. I might attribute my tolerance to generosity, but I will not
deceive you; if I could have chastised him without the least risk to
myself, without the slightest danger to my own life, then I would on no
account have forgiven him."
I looked at Silvio with surprise. Such a confession completely upset
me. Silvio continued:
"Precisely so, I had no right to endanger my life. Six years ago I
received a slap in the face and my enemy still lives."
My curiosity was greatly excited.
"Did you not fight him?" I inquired. "Circumstances probably separated
you?"
"I did fight him," replied Silvio, "and here is a memento of our duel."
He rose and took from a cardboard box a red cap with a gold tassel and
gold braid.
"My disposition is well known to you. I have been accustomed to be
first in everything. Prom my youth this has been my passion. In my
time dissipation was the fashion, and I was the most dissipated man
in the army. We used to boast of our drunkenness. I beat at drinking
the celebrated Burtsoff, of whom Davidoff has sung in his poems. Duels
in our regiment were of daily occurrence. I took part in all of them,
either as second or as principal. My comrades adored me, while the
commanders of the regiment, who were constantly being changed, looked
upon me as an incurable evil.
"I was calmly, or rather boisterously, enjoying my reputation when
a certain young man joined our regiment. He was rich, and came of
a distinguished family--I will not name him. Never in my life did
I meet with so brilliant, so fortunate a fellow!--young, clever,
handsome, with the wildest spirits, the most reckless bravery, bearing
a celebrated name, possessing funds of which he did not know the
amount, but which were inexhaustible. You may imagine the effect he
was sure to produce among us. My leadership was shaken. Dazzled by
my reputation he began by seeking my friendship. But I received him
coldly; at which, without the least sign of regret, he kept aloof from
me.
"I took a dislike to him. His success in the regiment and in the
society of women brought me to despair. I tried to pick a quarrel with
him. To my epigrams he replied with epigrams which always seemed to me
more pointed and more piercing than my own, and which were certainly
much livelier; for while he joked I was raving.
"Finally, at a ball at the house of a Polish landed proprietor, seeing
him receive marked attention from all the ladies, and especially from
the lady of the house, who had formerly been on very friendly terms
with me, I whispered some low insult in his ear. He flew into a passion
and gave me a slap on the cheek. We clutched our swords, the ladies
fainted, we were separated, and the same night we drove out to fight.
"It was nearly daybreak. I was standing at the appointed spot with my
three seconds. How impatiently I awaited my opponent! The spring sun
had risen and it was growing hot. At last I saw him in the distance. He
was on foot, accompanied by only one second. We advanced to meet him.
He approached, holding in his hand his regimental cap filled full of
black cherries.
"The seconds measured twelve paces. It was for me to fire first. But
my excitement was so great that I could not depend upon the certainty
of my hand, and, in order to give myself time to get calm, I ceded the
first shot to my adversary. He would not accept it, and we decided to
cast lots.
"The number fell to him; constant favourite of fortune that he was! He
aimed and put a bullet through my cap.
"It was now my turn. His life at last was in my hands. I looked at him
eagerly, trying to detect if only some faint shadow of uneasiness. But
he stood beneath my pistol picking out ripe cherries from his cap and
spitting out the stones, some of which fell near me. His indifference
enraged me. 'What is the use,' thought I, 'of depriving him of life,
when he sets no value upon it.' As this savage thought flitted through
my brain I lowered the pistol.
"'You don't seem to be ready for death,' I said, 'you are eating your
breakfast, and I don't want to interfere with you.'
"'You don't interfere with me in the least,' he replied. 'Be good
enough to fire; or don't fire if you prefer it; the shot remains with
you, and I shall be at your service at any moment.'
"I turned to the seconds, informing them that I had no intention of
firing that day, and with this the duel ended. I resigned my commission
and retired to this little place. Since then not a single day has
passed that I have not thought of my revenge; and now the hour has
arrived."
Silvio took from his pocket the letter he had received that morning,
and handed it to me to read. Someone (it seemed to be his business
agent) wrote to him from Moscow, that a certain individual was soon to
be married to a young and beautiful girl.
"You guess," said Silvio, "who the certain individual is. I am starting
for Moscow. Me shall see whether he will be as indifferent now as he
was some time ago, when in presence of death he ate cherries!"
With these words Silvio rose, threw his cap upon the floor, and began
pacing up and down the room like a tiger in his cage. I remained
silent. Strange contending feelings agitated me.
The servant entered and announced that the horses were ready. Silvio
grasped my hand tightly. He got into the _telega_, in which lay two
trunks--one containing his pistols, the other some personal effects. We
wished good-bye a second time, and the horses galloped off.
CHAPTER II.
Many years passed, and family circumstances obliged me to settle in the
poor little village of H. Engaged in farming, I sighed in secret for my
former merry, careless existence. Most difficult of all I found it to
pass in solitude the spring and winter evenings. Until the dinner hour
I somehow occupied the time, talking to the _starosta_, driving round
to see how the work went on, or visiting the new buildings. But as soon
as evening began to draw in, I was at a loss what to do with myself. My
books in various bookcases, cupboards, and storerooms I knew by heart.
The housekeeper, Kurilovna, related to me all the stories she could
remember. The songs of the peasant women made me melancholy. I tried
cherry brandy, but that gave me the headache. I must confess, however,
that I had some fear of becoming a drunkard from _ennui_, the saddest
kind of drunkenness imaginable, of which I had seen many examples in
our district.
I had no near neighbours with the exception of two or three melancholy
ones, whose conversation consisted mostly of hiccups and sighs.
Solitude was preferable to that. Finally I decided to go to bed as
early as possible, and to dine as late as possible, thus shortening the
evening and lengthening the day; and I found this plan a good one.
Pour versts from my place was a large estate belonging to Count B.;
but the steward alone lived there. The Countess had visited her domain
once only, just after her marriage, and she then only lived there about
a month. However, in the second spring of my retirement, there was a
report that the Countess, with her husband, would come to spend the
summer on her estate; and they arrived at the beginning of June.
The advent of a rich neighbour is an important event for residents in
the country. The landowners and the people of their household talk of
it for a couple of months beforehand, and for three years afterwards.
As far as I was concerned, I must confess, the expected arrival of
a young and beautiful neighbour affected me strongly. I burned with
impatience to see her; and the first Sunday after her arrival I started
for the village, in order to present myself to the Count and Countess
as their near neighbour and humble servant.
The footman showed me into the Count's study, while he went to
inform him of my arrival. The spacious room was furnished in a most
luxurious manner. Against the walls stood enclosed bookshelves well
furnished with books, and surmounted by bronze busts. Over the marble
mantelpiece was a large mirror. The floor was covered with green
cloth, over which were spread rugs and carpets.
Having got unaccustomed to luxury in my own poor little corner, and not
having beheld the wealth of other people for a long while, I was awed;
and I awaited the Count with a sort of fear, just as a petitioner from
the provinces awaits in an ante-room the arrival of the minister. The
doors opened, and a man about thirty-two, and very handsome, entered
the apartment. The Count approached me with a frank and friendly look.
I tried to be self-possessed, and began to introduce myself, but he
forestalled me.
We sat down. His easy and agreeable, conversation soon dissipated my
nervous timidity. I was already passing into my usual manner, when
suddenly the Countess entered, and I became more confused than ever.
She was, indeed, beautiful. The Count presented me. I was anxious to
appear at ease, but the more I tried to assume an air of unrestraint,
the more awkward I felt myself becoming. They, in order to give me time
to recover myself and get accustomed to my new acquaintances, conversed
with one another, treating me in good neighbourly fashion without
ceremony. Meanwhile, I walked about the room, examining the books and
pictures. In pictures I am no _connoisseur_; but one of the Count's
attracted my particular notice. It represented a view in Switzerland
was not, however, struck by the painting, but by the fact that it was
shot through by two bullets, one planted just on the top of the other.
"A good shot," I remarked, turning to the Count.
"Yes," he replied, "a very remarkable shot."
"Do you shoot well?" he added.
"Tolerably," I answered, rejoicing that the conversation had turned
at last on a subject which interested me.' "At a distance of thirty
paces I do not miss a card; I mean, of course, with a pistol that I am
accustomed to."
"Really?" said the Countess, with a look of great interest. "'And you,
my dear, could you hit a card at thirty paces?"
"Some day," replied the Count, "we will try. In my own time I did not
shoot badly. But it is four years now since I held a pistol in my hand."
"Oh," I replied, "in that case, I bet, Count, that you will not hit a
card even at twenty paces. The pistol demands daily practice. I know
that from experience. In our regiment I was reckoned one of the bests
shots. Once I happened not to take a pistol in hand for a whole month;
I had sent my own to the gunsmith's. Well, what do you think, Count?
The first time I began again to shoot I four times running missed
a bottle at twenty paces. The captain of our company, who was a wit,
happened to be present, and he said to me: 'Your hand, my friend,