The Frenchman was certainly scared; all this was really very much like the truth, and so it seemed that I really might be able to get up a scandal.
"Come, I beg you," he said in a voice of actual entreaty, "do drop the whole business! It seems to please you that it will cause a scandal! It is not satisfaction you want, but a scandal! As I have told you, it is very amusing and even witty —which is perhaps what you are aiming at. But, in short," he concluded, seeing that I had got up and was taking my hat, "I've come to give you these few lines from a certain person; read them; I was charged to wait for an answer."
Saying this, he took out of his pocket a little note, folded and sealed with a wafer, and handed it to me.
It was in Polina's handwriting.
"I fancy that you intend to go on with this affair, but there are special circumstances which I will explain to you perhaps later; please leave off and give way. It is all such silliness! I need you, and you promised yourself to obey me. Remember
the Schlangenberg; I beg you to be obedient, and, if necessary, I command you.—^Your P.
"P.S.—If you are angry with me for what happened yesterday, forgive me."
Everything seemed to be heaving before my eyes when I read these lines. My lips turned white and I began to tremble. The accursed Frenchman watched me with an exaggerated air of discretion, with his eyes turned away as though to avoid noticing my confusion. He had better have laughed at me outright.
"Very good," I answered; "tell Mademoiselle that she may set her mind at rest. Allow me to ask you," I added sharply, "why you have been so long giving me this letter. Instead of chattering about all sorts of nonsense, I think you ought to have begun with that ... if jrou came expressly with that object."
"Oh, I wanted ... all this is so strange that you must excuse my natural impatience. I was in hsiste to learn from you in person what you intended to do. Besides, I don't know what is in that note, and I thought there was no hurry for me to give it you."
"I understand: the long and the short of it is you were told only to give me the letter in case of the utmost necessity, and if you could settle it by word of mouth you were not to give it me. Is that right? TeU me plainly, M. de Grieux."
"P&iO-etre," he said, assuming an air of peculiar reserve, and looking at me with a peculiar glance.
I took off my hat; he took off his hat and went out. It seemed to me that there was an ironical smile on his lips. And, indeed, what else could one expect?
"We'll be quits yet, Frenchy; we'll settle our accounts," I muttered as I went down the stairs. I could not think clearly; I felt as though I had had a blow on my head. The air revived me a little.
Two minutes later, as soon as ever I was able to reflect clearly, two thoughts stood out vividly before me: the first was that such trivial incidents, that a few mischievous and farfetched threats from a mere boy, had caused such tmiversal consternation! The second thought was: what sort of influence ■ had this Frenchman over Polina? A mere word from him and' she does anything he wants—^writes a note and even begs me. Of course, their relations have always been a mystery to me from the very beginning, ever since I began to know them;
but of late I have noticed in her a positive aversion and even contempt for him, while he did not even look at her, was absolutely rude to her. I had noticed it. Polina herself had spoken of him to me with aversion; she had dropped some extremely significant admissions ... so he simply had her in his power. She was in some sort of bondage to him.
CHAPTER VIII
ON the promenade, as it is called here, that is, in the chestnut avenue, I met my Englishman.
"Oh, oh!" he began, as soon as he saw me. "I was coming to see you, and you are on your way to me. So you have parted from your people?"
"Tell me, first, how it is that you know aU this?" I asked in amazement. "Is it possible that everybody knows of it?"
"Oh, no, everyone doesn't; and, indeed, it's not worth their knowing. No one is talking about it."
"Then how do you know it?"
"I know, that is, I chanced to leam it. Now, where are you going when you leave here? I like you and that is why I was coming to see you."
"You are a splendid man, Mr. Astley," said I (I was very much interested, however, to know where he could have learnt it), "and since I have not yet had my coffee, and most likely you have not had a good cup, come to the caf6 in the Casino. Let us sit down and have a smoke there, and I will tell you all about it, and . . . you teU me, too ..."
The cafe was a hundred steps away. They brought us some coffee. We sat down and I lighted a cigarette. Mr. Astley did not light one and, gazing at me, prepared to listen.
"I am not going anywhere. I am staying here," I began.
"And I was sure you would," observed Mr. Astley approvingly.
On my way to Mr. Astley I had not meant to tell him anything of my love for Polina, and, in fact, I expressly intended to say nothing to him about it. He was, besides, very reserved. From the first I noticed that Polina had made a great impression upon him, but he never uttered her name. But, strange to say, now no sooner had he sat down and turned upon me his
fixed, pewtery eyes than I felt, I don't know why, a desire to tell him everything, that is, all about my love in all its aspects. I was talking to him for half an hour and it was very pleasant to me; it was the first time I had talked of it! Noticing that at certain ardent sentences he was embarrassed, I purposely exaggerated my ardour. Only one thing I regret: I said, perhaps, more than I should about the Frenchman. . . .
Mr. Astley listened, sitting facing me without moving, looking straight into my eyes, not uttering a word, a sound; but when I spoke of the Frenchman, he suddenly pulled me up and asked me, severely, whether I had the right to refer to this circumstance which did not concern me. Mr. Astley always asked questions very strangely.
"You are right. I am afraid not," I answered.
"You can say nothing definite, nothing that is not supposition about that Marquis and Miss Pohna?"
I was surprised again at such a point-blank question from a man so reserved as Mr. Astley.
"No, nothing definite," I answered; "of course not."
"If so, you have done wrong, not only in speaking of it to me, but even in thinking of it yourself."
"Very good, very good; I admit it, but that is not the point now," I interrupted, wondering at myself. At this point I told him the whole of yesterday's story in full detaiclass="underline" Polina's prank, my adventure with the Baron, my dismissal, the General's extraordinary dismay, and, finally, I described in detail De Grieux's visit that morning. Finally I showed him the note.
"What do you deduce from all this?" I asked. "I came on purpose to find out what you think. For my part, I could kill that Frenchman, and perhaps I shall."
"So could I," said Mr. Astley. "As regards Miss Polina, you know ... we may enter into relations even with people who are detestable to us if we are compelled by necessity, r There may be relations of which you know nothing, dependent upon outside circumstances. I think you may set your mind at rest—^to some extent, of course. As for her action yesterday, it was strange, of course; not that she wanted to get rid of you and expose you to the Baron's walking-stick (I don't understand why he did not use it, since he had it in his hands), but because such a prank is improper ... for such an . . . exquisite young lady. Of course, she couldn't have expected that you would carry out her jesting wish so literally . . ;"