higher, select circle, in any rank of life) has acquired for sometime past with us, in Russia, a great popularity, and has penetratedinto every locality and into every class of society whither vanity haspenetrated--among merchants, among officials, writers, and officers, toSaratoff, to Mamaduish, to Vinnitz, everywhere where men exist.
To Captain Obzhogoff, Staff-Captain Mikhailoff was an _aristocrat_. ToStaff-Captain Mikhailoff, Adjutant Kalugin was an _aristocrat_, becausehe was an adjutant, and was on such a footing with the other adjutantsas to call them "thou"! To Adjutant Kalugin, Count Nordoff was an_aristocrat_, because he was an adjutant on the Emperor's staff.
Vanity! vanity! and vanity everywhere, even on the brink of the grave,and among men ready to die for the highest convictions. Vanity! Itmust be that it is a characteristic trait, and a peculiar malady ofour century. Why was nothing ever heard among the men of former days,of this passion, any more than of the small-pox or the cholera? Why didHomer and Shakespeare talk of love, of glory, of suffering, while theliterature of our age is nothing but an endless narrative of snobs andvanity?
The staff-captain walked twice in indecision past the group of _hisaristocrats_, and the third time he exerted an effort over himselfand went up to them. This group consisted of four officers: AdjutantKalugin, an acquaintance of Mikhailoff's, Adjutant Prince Galtsin,who was something of an aristocrat even for Kalugin himself, ColonelNeferdoff, one of the so-called _hundred and twenty-two_ men of theworld (who had entered the service for this campaign, from the retiredlist), and Captain of Cavalry Praskukhin, also one of the hundred andtwenty-two. Luckily for Mikhailoff, Kalugin was in a very fine humor(the general had just been talking to him in a very confidential way,and Prince Galtsin, who had just arrived from Petersburg, was stoppingwith him); he did not consider it beneath his dignity to give hishand to Captain Mikhailoff, which Praskukhin, however, could not makeup his mind to do, though he had met Mikhailoff very frequently on thebastion, had drunk the latter's wine and vodka, and was even indebtedto him twenty rubles and a half at preference. As he did not yet knowPrince Galtsin very well, he did not wish to convict himself, in thelatter's presence, of an acquaintance with a simple staff-captain ofinfantry. He bowed slightly to the latter.
"Well, Captain," said Kalugin, "when are we to go to the bastion again?Do you remember how we met each other on the Schvartz redoubt--it washot there, hey?"
"Yes, it was hot," said Mikhailoff, recalling how he had, that night,as he was making his way along the trenches to the bastion, encounteredKalugin, who was walking along like a hero, valiantly clanking hissword. "I ought to have gone there to-morrow, according to presentarrangements; but we have a sick man," pursued Mikhailoff, "oneofficer, as...."
He was about to relate how it was not his turn, but, as the commanderof the eighth company was ill, and the company had only a cornetleft, he had regarded it as his duty to offer himself in the placeof Lieutenant Nepshisetzky, and was, therefore, going to the bastionto-day. But Kalugin did not hear him out.
"I have a feeling that something is going to happen within a few days,"he said to Prince Galtsin.
"And won't there be something to-day?" asked Mikhailoff, glancing firstat Kalugin, then at Galtsin.
No one made him any reply. Prince Galtsin merely frowned a little, senthis eyes past the other's cap, and, after maintaining silence for amoment, said:--
"That's a magnificent girl in the red kerchief. You don't know her, doyou, captain?"
"She lives near my quarters; she is the daughter of a sailor," repliedthe staff-captain.
"Come on; let's have a good look at her."
And Prince Galtsin linked one arm in that of Kalugin, the other in thatof the staff-captain, being convinced in advance that he could affordthe latter no greater gratification, which was, in fact, quite true.
The staff-captain was superstitious, and considered it a great sinto occupy himself with women before a battle; but on this occasion hefeigned to be a vicious man, which Prince Galtsin and Kalugin evidentlydid not believe, and which greatly amazed the girl in the red kerchief,who had more than once observed how the staff-captain blushed as hepassed her little window. Praskukhin walked behind, and kept touchingPrince Galtsin with his hand, and making various remarks in the Frenchtongue; but as a fourth person could not walk on the small path, hewas obliged to walk alone, and it was only on the second round that hetook the arm of the brave and well known naval officer _Servyagin_,who had stepped up and spoken to him, and who was also desirous ofjoining the circle of _aristocrats_. And the gallant and famous beaujoyfully thrust his honest and muscular hand through the elbow of aman who was known to all, and even well known to Servyagin, as nottoo nice. When Praskukhin, explaining to the prince his acquaintancewith _that sailor_, whispered to him that the latter was well knownfor his bravery, Prince Galtsin, having been on the fourth bastion onthe previous evening, having seen a bomb burst twenty paces from him,considering himself no less a hero than this gentleman, and thinkingthat many a reputation is acquired undeservedly, paid no particularattention to Servyagin.
It was so agreeable to Staff-Captain Mikhailoff to walk about in thiscompany that he forgot the _dear_ letter from T----, and the gloomythoughts which had assailed him in connection with his impendingdeparture for the bastion. He remained with them until they beganto talk exclusively among themselves, avoiding his glances, therebygiving him to understand that he might go, and finally deserted himentirely. But the staff-captain was content, nevertheless, and as hepassed Yunker[E] Baron Pesth, who had been particularly haughty andself-conceited since the preceding night, which was the first that hehad spent in the bomb-proof of the fifth bastion, and consequentlyconsidered himself a hero, he was not in the least offended at thepresumptuous expression with which the yunker straightened himself upand doffed his hat before him.
[E] A civilian, without military training, attached to a regiment as anon-commissioned officer, who may eventually become a regular officer.
IV.
When later the staff-captain crossed the threshold of his quarters,entirely different thoughts entered his mind. He looked around hislittle chamber, with its uneven earth floor, and saw the windows allawry, pasted over with paper, his old bed, with a rug nailed overit, upon which was depicted a lady on horseback, and over which hungtwo Tula pistols, the dirty couch of a cadet who lived with him, andwhich was covered with a chintz coverlet; he saw his Nikita, who, withuntidy, tallowed hair, rose from the floor, scratching his head; he sawhis ancient cloak, his extra pair of boots, and a little bundle, fromwhich peeped a bit of cheese and the neck of a porter bottle filledwith vodka, which had been prepared for his use on the bastion, and allat once he remembered that he was obliged to go with his company thatnight to the fortifications.
"It is certainly foreordained that I am to be killed to-night," thoughtthe captain.... "I feel it. And the principal point is that I need nothave gone, but that I offered myself. And the man who thrusts himselfforward is always killed. And what's the matter with that accursedNepshisetsky? It is quite possible that he is not sick at all; and theywill kill another man for his sake, they will infallibly kill him.However, if they don't kill me, I shall be promoted probably. I saw howdelighted the regimental commander was when I asked him to allow me togo, if Lieutenant Nepshisetsky was ill. If I don't turn out a major,then I shall certainly get the Vladimir cross. This is the thirteenthtime that I have been to the bastion. Ah, the thirteenth is an unluckynumber. They will surely kill me, I feel that I shall be killed; butsome one had to go, it was impossible for the lieutenant of the corpsto go. And, whatever happens, the honor of the regiment, the honor ofthe army, depends on it. It was my _duty_ to go ... yes, my sacredduty. But I have a foreboding."
The captain forgot that this was not the first time that a similarforeboding had assailed him, in a greater or less degree, when it hadbeen necessary to go to the bastion, and he did not know that everyone who sets out on an affair experiences this foreboding with more orless force. Having calmed himself wi
th this conception of duty, whichwas especially and strongly developed in the staff-captain, he seatedhimself at the table, and began to write a farewell letter to hisfather. Ten minutes later, having finished his letter, he rose from thetable, his eyes wet with tears, and, mentally reciting all the prayershe knew, he set about dressing. His coarse, drunken servant indolentlyhanded him his new coat (the old one, which the captain generally worewhen going to the bastion, was not mended).
"Why is not my coat mended? You never do anything but sleep, yougood-for-nothing!" said Mikhailoff, angrily.
"Sleep!" grumbled Nikita. "You run like a dog all day long; perhaps youstop--but you must not sleep, even then!"
"You are drunk again, I see."
"I didn't get drunk on your money, so you needn't scold."
"Hold your tongue, blockhead!" shouted the captain, who was ready tostrike the man. He had been absent-minded at first, but now he was, atlast, out of patience, and embittered by the rudeness of Nikita, whomhe loved, even spoiled, and who had lived with him for twelve years.
"Blockhead? Blockhead?" repeated the servant. "Why do you call me ablockhead, sir? Is this a time for that sort of thing? It is not goodto curse."
Mikhailoff recalled whither he was on the point of going, and feltashamed of himself.
"You are enough to put a saint out of patience, Nikita," he said, in agentle voice. "Leave that letter to my father on the table, and don'ttouch it," he added, turning red.
"Yes, sir," said Nikita, melting under the influence of the wine whichhe had drunk, as he had said, "at his own expense," and winking hiseyes with a visible desire to weep.
But when the captain said: "Good-by, Nikita," on the porch, Nikitasuddenly broke down into repressed sobs, and ran to kiss his master'shand.... "Farewell, master!" he exclaimed, sobbing. The old sailor'swife, who was standing on the porch, could not, in her capacity of awoman, refrain from joining in this touching scene, so she began towipe her eyes with her dirty sleeve, and to say something about evengentlemen having their trials to bear, and that she, poor creature, hadbeen left a widow. And she related for the hundredth time to drunkenNikita the story of her woes; how her husband had been killed in thefirst bombardment, and how her little house had been utterly ruined(the one in which she was now living did not belong to her), and so on.When his master had departed, Nikita lighted his pipe, requested thedaughter of their landlord to go for some vodka, and very soon ceasedto weep, but, on the contrary, got into a quarrel with the old womanabout some small bucket, which, he declared, she had broken.
"But perhaps I shall only be wounded," meditated the captain, as hemarched through the twilight to the bastion with his company. "Butwhere? How? Here or here?" he thought, indicating his belly and hisbreast.... "If it should be here (he thought of the upper portion ofhis leg), it might run round. Well, but if it were here, and by asplinter, that would finish me."
The captain reached the fortifications safely through the trenches,set his men to work, with the assistance of an officer of sappers, inthe darkness, which was complete, and seated himself in a pit behindthe breastworks. There was not much firing; only once in a whilethe lightning flashed from our batteries, then from _his_, and thebrilliant fuse of a bomb traced an arc of flame against the dark,starry heavens. But all the bombs fell far in the rear and to the rightof the rifle-pits in which the captain sat. He drank his vodka, ate hischeese, lit his cigarette, and, after saying his prayers, he tried toget a little sleep.
V.
Prince Galtsin, Lieutenant-Colonel Neferdoff, and Praskukhin, whom noone had invited, to whom no one spoke, but who never left them, allwent to drink tea with Adjutant Kalugin.
"Well, you did not finish telling me about Vaska Mendel," saidKalugin, as he took off his cloak, seated himself by the window in asoft lounging-chair, and unbuttoned the collar of his fresh, stifflystarched cambric shirt: "How did he come to marry?"
"That's a joke, my dear fellow! There was a time, I assure you, whennothing else was talked of in Petersburg," said Prince Galtsin, with alaugh, as he sprang up from the piano, and seated himself on the windowbeside Kalugin. "It is simply ludicrous, and I know all the details ofthe affair."
And he began to relate--in a merry, and skilful manner--a love story,which we will omit, because it possesses no interest for us. But itis worthy of note that not only Prince Galtsin, but all the gentlemenwho had placed themselves here, one on the window-sill, another withhis legs coiled up under him, a third at the piano, seemed totallydifferent persons from what they were when on the boulevard; there wasnothing of that absurd arrogance and haughtiness which they and theirkind exhibit in public to the infantry officers; here they were amongtheir own set and natural, especially Kalugin and Prince Galtsin, andwere like very good, amiable, and merry children. The conversationturned on their companions in the service in Petersburg, and on theiracquaintances.
"What of Maslovsky?"
"Which? the uhlan of the body-guard or of the horse-guard?"
"I know both of them. The one in the horse-guards was with me when hewas a little boy, and had only just left school. What is the elder one?a captain of cavalry?"
"Oh, yes! long ago."
"And is he still going about with his gypsy maid?"
"No, he has deserted her ..." and so forth, and so forth, in the samestrain.
Then Prince Galtsin seated himself at the piano, and sang a gypsy songin magnificent style. Praskukhin began to sing second, although noone had asked him, and he did it so well that they requested him toaccompany the prince again, which he gladly consented to do.
The servant came in with the tea, cream, and cracknels on a silversalver.
"Serve the prince," said Kalugin.
"Really, it is strange to think," said Galtsin, taking a glass, andwalking to the window, "that we are in a beleaguered city; tea withcream, and such quarters as I should be only too happy to get inPetersburg."
"Yes, if it were not for that," said the old lieutenant-colonel, whowas dissatisfied with everything, "this constant waiting for somethingwould be simply unendurable ... and to see how men are killed, killedevery day,--and there is no end to it, and under such circumstances itwould not be comfortable to live in the mud."
"And how about our infantry officers?" said Kalugin. "They live in thebastions with the soldiers in the casemates and eat beet soup with thesoldiers--how about them?"
"How about them? They don't change their linen for ten days at a time,and they are heroes--wonderful men."
At this moment an officer of infantry entered the room.
"I ... I was ordered ... may I present myself to the gen ... to HisExcellency from General N.?" he inquired, bowing with an air ofembarrassment.
Kalugin rose, but, without returning the officer's salute, he askedhim, with insulting courtesy and strained official smile, whether_they_[F] would not wait awhile; and, without inviting him to be seatedor paying any further attention to him, he turned to Prince Galtsinand began to speak to him in French, so that the unhappy officer, whoremained standing in the middle of the room, absolutely did not knowwhat to do with himself.
[F] A polite way of referring to the general in the plural.
"It is on very important business, sir," said the officer, after amomentary pause.
"Ah! very well, then," said Kalugin, putting on his cloak, andaccompanying him to the door.
"_Eh bien, messieurs_, I think there will be hot work to-night," saidKalugin in French, on his return from the general's.
"Hey? What? A sortie?" They all began to question him.
"I don't know yet--you will see for yourselves," replied Kalugin, with amysterious smile.
"And my commander is on the bastion--of course, I shall have to go,"said Praskukhin, buckling on his sword.
But no one answered him: he must know for himself whether he had to goor not.
Praskukhin and Neferdoff went off, in order to betake themselves totheir posts. "Farewell, gentlemen!" "Au revoir, gentlemen! We shallmeet again to-ni
ght!" shouted Kalugin from the window when Praskukhinand Neferdoff trotted down the street, bending over the bows of theirCossack saddles. The trampling of their Cossack horses soon died awayin the dusky street.
"No, tell me, is something really going to take place to-night?" saidGaltsin, in French, as he leaned with Kalugin on the window-sill, andgazed at the bombs which were flying over the bastions.
"I can tell you, you see ... you have been on the bastions, of course?"(Galtsin made a sign of assent, although he had been only once to thefourth bastion.) "Well, there was a trench opposite our lunette",and Kalugin, who was not a specialist, although he considered hisjudgment on military affairs particularly accurate, began to explainthe position of our troops and of the enemy's works and the plan of theproposed affair, mixing up the technical terms of fortifications a gooddeal in the process.
"But they are beginning to hammer away at our casemates. Oho! was thatours or _his_? there, it has burst," they said, as they leaned on thewindow-sill, gazing at the fiery line of the bomb, which exploded inthe air, at the lightning of the discharges, at the dark blue sky,momentarily illuminated, and at the white smoke of the powder, andlistened to the sounds of the firing, which grew louder and louder.
"What a charming sight? is it not?" said Kalugin, in French, directingthe attention of his guest to the really beautiful spectacle. "Do youknow, you cannot distinguish the stars from the bombs at times."
"Yes, I was just thinking that