"But did you finally take the wallet from under the chair?"
"No, sir; that same night it disappeared from under the chair, sir."
"So where is it now?"
"Here, sir," Lebedev suddenly laughed, rising from the chair to his full height and looking pleasantly at the prince. "It suddenly turned up here, in the skirt of my own frock coat. Here, kindly look for yourself, feel it, sir."
Indeed, it was as if a whole pouch had been formed in the left skirt of the frock coat, right in front, in full view, and by feeling it one could tell at once that it was a leather wallet, which had fallen there through a torn pocket.
"I took it out and looked, it's all there, sir. I put it back and since yesterday morning I've been walking around like that, carrying it in my skirt, it even hits against my legs."
"And you don't notice it?"
"And I don't notice it, heh, heh! And imagine, my much-esteemed Prince—though the subject is unworthy of such special attention from you—my pockets are always in good condition, and now suddenly, in one night, such a hole! I started examining it curiously—as if somebody had cut it with a penknife; it's almost incredible, sir!"
"And . . . the general?"
"He was angry all day yesterday and today; he's terribly displeased, sir; first he's joyful and bacchic even to the point of flattery, then he's sentimental to the point of tears, then he suddenly gets so angry that I even turn coward, by God; I'm not a military man after all, sir. Yesterday we're sitting in the tavern, and, as if by accident, my skirt is exposed to view, a big bump; he looks askance, gets angry. He hasn't looked me straight in the eye for a long time, sir, except when he's very drunk or waxes sentimental; but yesterday a couple of times he gave me such a look that a chill ran down my spine. Anyhow, I intend to find the wallet tomorrow, but before tomorrow I'll spend another little evening having fun with him."
"But why do you torment him so?" cried the prince.
"I'm not tormenting him, Prince, I'm not," Lebedev picked up hotly, "I love him sincerely, sir, and ... I respect him; and now, believe it or not, sir, he's become even dearer to me; I've come to appreciate him still more, sir!"
Lebedev said it all so seriously and sincerely that the prince even became indignant.
"You love him, yet you torment him so! For pity's sake, by the fact alone that he put what you lost in full view like that, under the table and then in your frock coat, by that alone he shows you directly that he doesn't want to dodge with you, but is simpleheartedly asking your forgiveness. Do you hear: he's asking your forgiveness! That means he's relying on the delicacy of your feelings; which means he trusts in your friendship for him. And you drive such a ... a most honest man to such humiliation!"
"A most honest man, Prince, most honest!" Lebedev picked up, his eyes flashing. "And precisely you alone, most noble Prince, are able to speak such a just word! For that I am devoted to you even to the point of adoration, sir, though I am rotten with various
vices! It's decided! I shall find the wallet right now, at once, not tomorrow; here, I take it out before your eyes, sir; here it is; and all the money's in it; here, take it, most noble Prince, take it and keep it till tomorrow. Tomorrow or the day after I'll take it, sir; and you know, Prince, it obviously lay somewhere in my garden, under a stone, the first night it was lost, sir; what do you think?"
"Watch out, don't tell him right to his face that you found the wallet. Let him simply see that there's nothing in the skirt anymore, and he'll understand."
"Is that so, sir? Wouldn't it be better to tell him I found it, sir, and pretend that till now I never guessed?"
"N-no," the prince reflected, "n-no, it's too late now; it's more dangerous; really, you'd better not say it! And be gentle with him, but. . . don't let it show too much, and . . . and . . . you know . . ."
"I know, Prince, I know—that is, I know that I probably won't do it; for here one must have a heart like yours. And besides, he's irritable and moody himself, he's started treating me sometimes much too haughtily now; first he whimpers and wants to embrace me, then he suddenly begins to humiliate me and scornfully jeer at me; well, then I'll deliberately stick my skirt out, heh, heh! Good-bye, Prince, for I am obviously keeping you and interfering, so to speak, in your most interesting feelings . . ."
"But, for God's sake, keep it a secret!"
"With quiet steps, sir, with quiet steps!"
But though the matter was ended, the prince was left almost more preoccupied than before. He waited impatiently for tomorrow's meeting with the general.
IV
The appointed hour was twelve, but the prince was quite unexpectedly late. Returning home, he found the general there waiting for him. He noticed at first glance that he was displeased, perhaps precisely at being forced to wait. Apologizing, the prince hastened to sit down, but somehow with a strange timidity, as if his visitor were made of porcelain and he was in constant fear of breaking him. He had never felt timid with the general before, and it had not occurred to him to feel timid. The prince soon discerned that this was now a completely different man than the day before: instead of perturbation and absentmindedness, he showed a sort
of extraordinary restraint; one might have concluded that this was a man who was ultimately resolved on something. His composure, however, was more ostensible than real. But in any case the visitor was nobly casual, though with restrained dignity; at first he even treated the prince as if with an air of some condescension—precisely the way certain proud but unjustly offended people are sometimes nobly casual. He spoke gently, though not without a certain ruefulness in his speech.
"Your book, which I borrowed from you the other day," he nodded significantly at the book he had brought with him, which lay on the table. "Many thanks."
"Ah, yes; you read that article, General? How did you like it? Curious, isn't it?" The prince was glad of the possibility of quickly beginning a somewhat extraneous conversation.
"Curious, perhaps, but crude and, of course, absurd. And maybe a lie at every step."
The general spoke with aplomb and even drew the words out slightly.
"Ah, it's such a simple-hearted story; the story of an old soldier, an eyewitness to the French occupation of Moscow; there are charming things in it. Besides, any memoirs by eyewitnesses are precious, whoever the eyewitness may be. Isn't it true?"
"In the editor's place, I wouldn't have published it; as for memoirs by eyewitnesses in general, people sooner believe a crude liar, but an amusing one, than a man of dignity and merit. I know certain memoirs about the year twelve 7that... I've taken a decision, Prince, I am leaving this house—the house of Mr. Lebedev."
The general gave the prince a meaningful look.
"You have your own quarters in Pavlovsk, at ... at your daughter's ..." said the prince, not knowing what to say. He remembered that the general had come for advice about a matter of extreme importance on which his destiny depended.
"At my wife's; in other words, my home and that of my daughter."
"Forgive me, I . . ."
"I am leaving Lebedev's house, my dear Prince, because I have broken with that man; I broke with him yesterday evening, with regret that it was not sooner. I demand respect, Prince, and I wish to receive it even from those persons to whom I have, so to speak, given my heart. I often give my heart to people, Prince, and I am almost always deceived. That man was unworthy of my gift."