"Alexey Ivanovitch, save, save me, spare me."
It was a long while before I could understand. He kept talking and talking and talking, continually repeating, "Spare me, spare me!" At last I guessed that he expected something in the way of advice from me; or rather, abandoned by all in his misery and anxiety, he had thought of me and had sent for me, simply to talk and talk and taBc to me.
He was mad, or at any rate utterly distraught. He clasped his hands and was on the point of dropping on his knees before me to implore me (what do you suppose?) to go at once to Mile. Blanche and to beseech, to urge her to return to him and marry him.
"Upon my word. General," I cried; "why, Mile. Blanche is perhaps scarcely aware of my existence. What can I do?"
But it was vain to protest; he didn't imderstand what was said to him. He fell to talking about Granny, too, but with terrible incoherence; he was still harping on the idea of sending for the poUce.
"Among us, among us," he began, suddenly boiling over with indignation; "among us, in a well-ordered state, in fact, where there is a Government in control of things, such old women would have been put under guardianship at once! Yes, my dear sir, yes," he went on, suddenly dropping into a scolding tone, jumping up from his chair and pacing about the room; "you may not be aware of the fact, honoured sir," he said, addressing some imaginary "honoured sir" in the comer, "so let me tell you . . . yes . . . among us such old women
are kept in order, kept in order; yes, indeed. . . . Oh, damn it all!"
And he flung himself on the sofa again, and a minute later, almost sobbing, gasping for breath, hastened to tell me that Mile. Blanche would not marry him because Granny had come instead of the telegram, and that now it was clear he would not come into the inheritance. He imagined that I knew nothing of this till then. I began to speak of De Grieux; he waved his hand: "He has gone awayl Everj^ing of mine he has in pawn; I'm stripped of everything! That money you brought . . . that money—I don't know how much there is, I thmk seven hundred francs are left and that's enough, that's all and what's to come—I don't know, I don't know! . . ."
"How will you pay your hotel bill?" I cried in alarm; "and . . . afterwards what will you do?"
He looked at me pensively, but I fancy he did not understand and perhaps did not hear what I said. I tried to speak of Polina Alexandrovna, of the children; he hurriedly answered: "Yes! yes!" but at once feU to talking of the Prince again, sa5dng tiiat Blanche would go away with him now and "then . . . then, what am I to do, Alexey Ivanovitch?" he asked, addressing me suddenly. "I vow, by God! I don't know what to do; tell me, isn't this ingratitude? Isn't this ingratitude?"
Finally he dissolved into floods of tears.
There was no doing anything with such a man; it would be dangerous to leave him alone, too—something might happen to him. I got rid of him somehow, but let nurse know she must look in upon him pretty frequently, and also spoke to the corridor attendant, a very sensible fellow; he, too, promised me to keep an eye on the General.
I had hardly left the General when Potapitch came to summon me to Granny. It was eight o'clock and she had only just come back from the Casino after losing everj^thing. I went to her; the old lady was sitting in an armchair, utterly worn out and evidently ill. Marfa was giving her a cup of tea and almost forcing her to drink it. And Graimy's tone and voice were utterly dianged.
"Good-day, Alexey Ivanovitch, my good sir," she said, bending her head slowly, and with dignity; "excuse me for troubling you once more, you must excuse an old woman. 1 have left everything behind there, my friend, nearly a hundred thousand roubles. You did well not to come with me yesterday. Now I have no money, not a farthing. I don't want to delay
a moment, at half-past nine I'm setting off. I have sent to that Englishman of yours—^what's his name, Astley—I want to ask him to lend me three thousand francs for a week. So you must persuade him not to take it amiss and refuse. I am still fairly well off, my friend. I have still three villages and two houses. And there is still some money. I didn't bring it all with me. I tell you this that he may not feel any doubts . . . Ah, here he isl One can see he is a nice man."
Mr. Astley had hastened to come at Granny's first summons. With no hesitation and without wasting words he promptly counted out three thousand francs for an lOU which Granny signed. When this business was settled he made haste to take his leave and go away.
"And now you can go, too, Alexey Ivanovitch. I have oiJy a Httie over an hour left. I want to he down: my bones ache. Don't be hard on an old fool like me. Henceforward I won't blame yoimg people for being flighty, and it would be a sin for me now to blame that luckless fellow, your General, either. I won't give him any money, though, as he wants me to, because —to my thinking he is utterly silly; only, old fool as I am, I've no more sense than he. Verily God seeks out and punishes pride, even in old age. Well, good-bye. Marfa, lift me up!"
I wanted to see Granny off, however. What's more, I was in a state of suspense; I kept expecting that in another minute something would happen. I could not sit quietly in my room. I went out into the corridor, even for a moment went for a saunter along the avenue. My letter to her had been clear and decisive and the present catastrophe was, of course, a final one. I heard in the hotel that De Grieux had left. If she rejected me as a friend, j>erhap)s she would not reject me as a servant. I was necessary to her, I was of use to her, if only to run her errands, it was boimd to be so!
When the train was due to start I ran to the station and saw Granny into the train. Her whole party were together, in a special reserved compartment. "Thank you, my good friend, for your disinterested sympathy," she said, at parting from me; "and tell Praskovya, in reference to what we were discussing yesterday, I shall expect her."
I went home. Passing the General's rooms I met the old nurse and inquired after the General. "Oh, he's all right, sir," she answered me dolefully. I went in, however, but stood still in positive amazement. MUe. Blanche and the General were both laughing heartily. Madame de Cominges was sitting on
the sofa dose by. The General was evidently beside himself with delight. He was murmuring incoherently and going ofE into prolonged fits of nervous laughter, during which his face was puckered with innumerable wrinkles and his eyes disappeared from sight. Afterwards I learnt from Blanche herself that, having dismissed the Prince and having heard how the General was weeping, she had taken it into her head to comfort him by going to see him for a minute. But the poor General did not know that at that time his fate was decided, and that Mile. Blanche had already packed to set off for Paris by the first train next morning.
Stopping in the doorway of the General's study, I changed my mind and went away unnoticed. Going up to my own room and opening the door, I suddenly noticed a figure in the half-darkness sittiag on a chair in the comer by the window. She did not get up when I went in. I went up quickly, looked, and—^my heart stood stilclass="underline" it was PoUna.
CHAPTER XIV
I POSITIVELY cried out aloud. "What is it? What is it?" she asked me strangely. She was pale cind looked gloomy.
"You ask what is it? You? Here in my room!"
"li 1 come, then I come tdtoigether. That's my way. You'll see that directly; light the candle."
I lighted a candle. She got up, went up to the table, and put before me an open letter.
"Read it," she ordered me.
"It's—^it's De Grieux's handwriting," I cried, taking the letter. My hands trembled and the hues danced before my eyes. I have forgotten the exact wording of the letter, but here is the main drift of it, if not the actual words.