again to the notice of someof the important personages.
“Lef Nicolaievitch was a ward of Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff, afterthe death of his own parents,” he remarked, meeting Ivan Petrovitch’seye.
“Very happy to meet him, I’m sure,” remarked the latter. “I rememberLef Nicolaievitch well. When General Epanchin introduced us just now,I recognized you at once, prince. You are very little changed, thoughI saw you last as a child of some ten or eleven years old. There wassomething in your features, I suppose, that--”
“You saw me as a child!” exclaimed the prince, with surprise.
“Oh! yes, long ago,” continued Ivan Petrovitch, “while you were livingwith my cousin at Zlatoverhoff. You don’t remember me? No, I daresay you don’t; you had some malady at the time, I remember. It was soserious that I was surprised--”
“No; I remember nothing!” said the prince. A few more words ofexplanation followed, words which were spoken without the smallestexcitement by his companion, but which evoked the greatest agitation inthe prince; and it was discovered that two old ladies to whose care theprince had been left by Pavlicheff, and who lived at Zlatoverhoff, werealso relations of Ivan Petrovitch.
The latter had no idea and could give no information as to whyPavlicheff had taken so great an interest in the little prince, hisward.
“In point of fact I don’t think I thought much about it,” said the oldfellow. He seemed to have a wonderfully good memory, however, for hetold the prince all about the two old ladies, Pavlicheff’s cousins, whohad taken care of him, and whom, he declared, he had taken to taskfor being too severe with the prince as a small sickly boy--the eldersister, at least; the younger had been kind, he recollected. Theyboth now lived in another province, on a small estate left to them byPavlicheff. The prince listened to all this with eyes sparkling withemotion and delight.
He declared with unusual warmth that he would never forgive himself forhaving travelled about in the central provinces during these last sixmonths without having hunted up his two old friends.
He declared, further, that he had intended to go every day, but hadalways been prevented by circumstances; but that now he would promisehimself the pleasure--however far it was, he would find them out. And soIvan Petrovitch _really_ knew Natalia Nikitishna!--what a saintly naturewas hers!--and Martha Nikitishna! Ivan Petrovitch must excuse him,but really he was not quite fair on dear old Martha. She was severe,perhaps; but then what else could she be with such a little idiot as hewas then? (Ha, ha.) He really was an idiot then, Ivan Petrovitch mustknow, though he might not believe it. (Ha, ha.) So he had really seenhim there! Good heavens! And was he really and truly and actually acousin of Pavlicheff’s?
“I assure you of it,” laughed Ivan Petrovitch, gazing amusedly at theprince.
“Oh! I didn’t say it because I _doubt_ the fact, you know. (Ha, ha.)How could I doubt such a thing? (Ha, ha, ha.) I made the remarkbecause--because Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff was such a splendid man,don’t you see! Such a high-souled man, he really was, I assure you.”
The prince did not exactly pant for breath, but he “seemed almostto _choke_ out of pure simplicity and goodness of heart,” as Adelaidaexpressed it, on talking the party over with her fiance, the Prince S.,next morning.
“But, my goodness me,” laughed Ivan Petrovitch, “why can’t I be cousinto even a splendid man?”
“Oh, dear!” cried the prince, confused, trying to hurry his wordsout, and growing more and more eager every moment: “I’ve gone and saidanother stupid thing. I don’t know what to say. I--I didn’t mean that,you know--I--I--he really was such a splendid man, wasn’t he?”
The prince trembled all over. Why was he so agitated? Why had he flowninto such transports of delight without any apparent reason? He had faroutshot the measure of joy and emotion consistent with the occasion. Whythis was it would be difficult to say.
He seemed to feel warmly and deeply grateful to someone for something orother--perhaps to Ivan Petrovitch; but likely enough to all the guests,individually, and collectively. He was much too happy.
Ivan Petrovitch began to stare at him with some surprise; the dignitary,too, looked at him with considerable attention; Princess Bielokonskiglared at him angrily, and compressed her lips. Prince N., Evgenie,Prince S., and the girls, all broke off their own conversations andlistened. Aglaya seemed a little startled; as for Lizabetha Prokofievna,her heart sank within her.
This was odd of Lizabetha Prokofievna and her daughters. They hadthemselves decided that it would be better if the prince did not talkall the evening. Yet seeing him sitting silent and alone, but perfectlyhappy, they had been on the point of exerting themselves to draw himinto one of the groups of talkers around the room. Now that he was inthe midst of a talk they became more than ever anxious and perturbed.
“That he was a splendid man is perfectly true; you are quite right,” repeated Ivan Petrovitch, but seriously this time. “He was a fine and aworthy fellow--worthy, one may say, of the highest respect,” he added,more and more seriously at each pause; “and it is agreeable to see, onyour part, such--”
“Wasn’t it this same Pavlicheff about whom there was a strange story inconnection with some abbot? I don’t remember who the abbot was, but Iremember at one time everybody was talking about it,” remarked the olddignitary.
“Yes--Abbot Gurot, a Jesuit,” said Ivan Petrovitch. “Yes, that’s thesort of thing our best men are apt to do. A man of rank, too, andrich--a man who, if he had continued to serve, might have done anything;and then to throw up the service and everything else in order to go overto Roman Catholicism and turn Jesuit--openly, too--almost triumphantly.By Jove! it was positively a mercy that he died when he did--it wasindeed--everyone said so at the time.”
The prince was beside himself.
“Pavlicheff?--Pavlicheff turned Roman Catholic? Impossible!” he cried,in horror.
“H’m! impossible is rather a strong word,” said Ivan Petrovitch. “Youmust allow, my dear prince... However, of course you value the memory ofthe deceased so very highly; and he certainly was the kindest of men;to which fact, by the way, I ascribe, more than to anything else, thesuccess of the abbot in influencing his religious convictions. But youmay ask me, if you please, how much trouble and worry I, personally,had over that business, and especially with this same Gurot! Would youbelieve it,” he continued, addressing the dignitary, “they actuallytried to put in a claim under the deceased’s will, and I had to resortto the very strongest measures in order to bring them to their senses?I assure you they knew their cue, did these gentlemen--wonderful! Thankgoodness all this was in Moscow, and I got the Court, you know, to helpme, and we soon brought them to their senses.”
“You wouldn’t believe how you have pained and astonished me,” cried theprince.
“Very sorry; but in point of fact, you know, it was all nonsense andwould have ended in smoke, as usual--I’m sure of that. Last year,”--heturned to the old man again,--“Countess K. joined some Roman Conventabroad. Our people never seem to be able to offer any resistance so soonas they get into the hands of these--intriguers--especially abroad.”
“That is all thanks to our lassitude, I think,” replied the old man,with authority. “And then their way of preaching; they have a skilfulmanner of doing it! And they know how to startle one, too. I got quitea fright myself in ’32, in Vienna, I assure you; but I didn’t cave in tothem, I ran away instead, ha, ha!”
“Come, come, I’ve always heard that you ran away with the beautifulCountess Levitsky that time--throwing up everything in order to doit--and not from the Jesuits at all,” said Princess Bielokonski,suddenly.
“Well, yes--but we call it from the Jesuits, you know; it comes tothe same thing,” laughed the old fellow, delighted with the pleasantrecollection.
“You seem to be very religious,” he continued, kindly, addressing theprince, “which is a thing one meets so seldom nowadays among youngpeople.”
The prince was listening open-mouthed, and still
in a condition ofexcited agitation. The old man was evidently interested in him, andanxious to study him more closely.
“Pavlicheff was a man of bright intellect and a good Christian, asincere Christian,” said the prince, suddenly. “How could he possiblyembrace a faith which is unchristian? Roman Catholicism is, so to speak,simply the same thing as unchristianity,” he added with flashing eyes,which seemed to take in everybody in the room.
“Come, that’s a little _too_ strong, isn’t it?” murmured the old man,glancing at General Epanchin in surprise.
“How do you make out that the Roman Catholic religion is _unchristian?_What is it, then?” asked Ivan Petrovitch, turning to the prince.
“It is not a Christian religion, in the first place,” said the latter,in extreme agitation, quite out of proportion to the necessity of themoment. “And in the second place, Roman Catholicism is, in my opinion,worse than Atheism itself. Yes--that is my opinion. Atheism onlypreaches a negation, but Romanism goes further; it preaches adisfigured, distorted Christ--it preaches Anti-Christ--I assure you, Iswear it! This