Maslenikoff's face became radiant when he saw Nekhludoff. His face was as fat and red, his dress as excellent as when he served in the army. As an army officer he was always neat, dressed in a tight uniform made according to the latest style; now his dress fitted his well-fed body as perfectly. He wore a uniform. Notwithstanding the difference in their age—Maslenikoff was about forty—they familiarly "thoued" each other.
"Very glad you remembered me. Come to my wife. I have just ten minutes to spare, and then I must to the session. My chief, you know, is away. I am directing the affairs of the district," he said, with joy which he could not conceal.
"I came to you on business."
"What's that?" Maslenikoff said in a frightened and somewhat stern voice, suddenly pricking his ears.
"There is a person in jail in whom I am very much interested;" at the word "jail" Maslenikoff's face became even more stern, "and I would like to have the right of interview in the office instead of the common reception room, and oftener than on the appointed days. I was told that it depended on you."
"Of course, mon cher, I am always ready to do anything for you," Maslenikoff said, touching his knees with both hands, as if desiring to soften his own greatness. "I can do it, but you know I am caliph only for an hour."
"So you can give me a pass that will enable me to see her?"
"It is a woman?"
"Yes."
"What is the charge against her?"
"Poisoning. But she was irregularly convicted."
"Yes, there is justice for you! Ils n'en font point d'autres," he said, for some reason in French. "I know that you do not agree with me, but c'est mon opinion bien arretee," he added, repeating the opinion that had been reiterated during the past year by a retrograde, conservative newspaper. "I know you are a liberal."
"I don't know whether I am a liberal or something else," smilingly said Nekhludoff, who always wondered at being joined to some party, or called a liberal only because he held that a man must not be judged without being heard; that all are equal before the law; that it is wrong to torture and beat people generally, especially those that are not convicted. "I don't know whether I am a liberal or not, but I do know that our present courts, bad as they are, are nevertheless better than those that preceded them."
"And what lawyer have you retained?"
"I have retained Fanarin."
"Ah, Fanarin!" Maslenikoff said, frowning as he recalled how Fanarin, examining him as a witness the year before, in the most polite manner made him the butt of ridicule.
"I would not advise you to have anything to do with him. Fanarin est un homme tare."
"I have another request to make of you," Nekhludoff said, without answering him. "A long time ago I made the acquaintance of a girl teacher, a very wretched creature. She is now in jail and desires to see me. Can you give me a pass to her?"
Maslenikoff leaned his head to one side and began to reflect.
"She is a political."
"Yes, I was told so."
"You know politicals can only be seen by their relatives, but I will give you a general pass. Je sais que vous n'abuserez pas——"
"What is the name of this your protege? Bogodukhovskaia? Elle est jolie?"
"Hideuse."
Maslenikoff disapprovingly shook his head, went to the table and on a sheet of paper with a printed letter-head wrote in a bold hand: "The bearer, Prince Dmitri Ivanovich Nekhludoff, is hereby permitted to visit the prisoners, Maslova and Bogodukhovskaia, now detained in the prison," and signed his name to it with a broad flourish.
"You will see now what order there is in prison. And to keep order there is very difficult, because it is overcrowded, especially by those to be transported. But I watch over them, and like the occupation. You will see there are very many there, but they are content, and are faring well. It is necessary to know how to deal with them. Some unpleasantness occurred there a few days ago—disobedience. Another man in my place would have treated it as a riot and made many people miserable, but we arranged it all pleasantly. What is necessary is solicitude on the one hand, and prompt and vigorous dealing on the other," he said, clenching his soft, white fist projecting from under a white, starched cuff and adorned with a turquoise ring—"solicitude and vigorous dealing."
"Well, I don't know about that," said Nekhludoff. "I was there twice, and I was very much distressed by the sight."
"You know what I will tell you? You ought to get acquainted with Princess Passek," continued Maslenikoff, who had become talkative; "she has entirely devoted herself to this cause. Elle fait beaucoup de bien. Thanks to her and, without false modesty, to myself, everything has been changed, and changed so that none of the old horrors can be found there, and they are decidedly well off there. You will see it. There is Fanarin. I am not personally acquainted with him; besides, our roads do not meet because of my position in society, but he is decidedly a bad man, and allows himself to state in court such things, such things!"
"Well, thank you," said Nekhludoff, taking the document, and took leave of his old comrade.
"Would you not like to see my wife?"
"No, thank you; I have no time now."
"Well, now, she will never forgive me," said Maslenikoff, conducting his old comrade to the first landing, as he did with people of secondary importance, among whom he reckoned Nekhludoff. "Do come but for a moment."
But Nekhludoff was firm, and while the footman and porter sprang toward him, handing him his overcoat and cane, and opening the door, before which a policeman stood, he excused himself, pleading want of time.
"Well, then, Thursday, please. That is her reception day. I will tell her!" Maslenikoff shouted from the top of the stairs.
CHAPTER XLIX.
From Maslenikoff, Nekhludoff went directly to the prison and approached the familiar apartments of the inspector. The sounds of a tuneless piano again assailed his ears, but this time it was not a rhapsody that was played, but a study by Clementi, and, as before, with unusual force, precision and rapidity. The servant with a handkerchief around one eye said that the captain was in, and showed Nekhludoff into the small reception-room, in which was a lounge, a table and a lamp, one side of the rose-colored shade of which was scorched, standing on a knitted woolen napkin. The inspector appeared with an expression of sadness and torment on his face.
"Glad to see you. What can I do for you?" he said, buttoning up the middle button of his uniform.
"I went to the vice-governor, and here is my pass," said Nekhludoff, handing him the document. "I would like to see Maslova."
"Markova?" asked the inspector, who could not hear him on account of the music.
"Maslova."
"O, yes! O, yes!"
The inspector rose and approached the door through which Clementi's roulade was heard.
"Marusia; if you would only stop for a little while," he said in a voice which showed that this music was the cross of his life; "I cannot hear anything."
The music ceased; discontented steps were heard, and some one looked through the door.
The inspector, as if relieved by the cessation of the music, lit a thick cigarette of light tobacco and offered one to Nekhludoff, which he refused.
"Can Maslova——"
"It is not convenient to see Maslova to-day," said the inspector.
"Why?"
"It is your own fault," slightly smiling, said the inspector. "Prince, you must not give her any money. If you wish to give her money, leave it with me; I will keep it for her. You see, you must have given her money yesterday, for she bought wine—it is hard to eradicate that evil—and is intoxicated to-day. In fact, she became unruly."
"Is it possible?"
"Why, I even had to employ strict measures, had her transferred to another cell. She is very tractable, but, please do not give her money. That is their failing."