The JP’s face at this moment beamed with contentment as never before. Was he thinking that a proposal would be made to his Nadezhda that same evening? Wasn’t that his reason for stocking up with champagne to toast the young couple? I stared at his face, but as usual all I could read in it was immeasurable contentment, repletion – and a dull pomposity that suffused his entire portly figure.
Cheerfully we attacked the savouries. Only two of the company were indifferent towards the sumptuous banquet that lay spread out before us on some rugs – Olga and Nadezhda Nikolayevna. The first stood to one side, leaning on the back of the wagonette without moving or saying a word as she gazed at the game bag that the Count had thrown to the ground; the wounded woodcock was tossing about in it. Olga was following the unfortunate bird’s movements and seemed to be waiting for it to die. Nadezhda was sitting next to me, looking indifferently at the mouths of the picnickers who had been eating away so cheerfully.
‘When will it all end?’ her weary eyes said.
I offered her a caviare sandwich. She thanked me and put it to one side. Obviously she didn’t feel like eating.
‘Olga Nikolayevna! Why don’t you sit down?’ the Count shouted to her.
Olga didn’t reply and continued standing there as still as a statue, watching the bird.
‘What heartless people there are,’ I said, going over to Olga. ‘How can you, a woman, calmly watch the sufferings of that woodcock? Instead of observing its contortions you’d better give orders for it to be put out of its misery.’
‘Others suffer, so let it suffer too,’ Olga said, without looking at me and knitting her eyebrows.
‘But who else is suffering?’
‘Leave me in peace,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I don’t feel like talking to you today – nor with that idiotic Count of yours! Now go away from me!’
She glanced at me with eyes that were full of anger and tears. Her face was pale, her lips were trembling.
‘What a change!’ I said, picking up the game bag and dispatching the woodcock. ‘What a tone! I’m stunned, simply stunned!’
‘Leave me in peace, I’m telling you. I’m in no mood for jokes!’
‘What’s the matter, my enchantress?’
Olga looked me up and down and turned her back on me.
‘Only dissolute women, prostitutes, are spoken to in that tone of voice,’ she said. ‘You consider me one of them… well then, go back to your saintly women friends! In this place I’m worse, viler than anyone else. When you were riding with that virtuous Nadezhda you were too afraid to look at me. Well, go back to them, what are you waiting for? Go!’
‘Yes, you’re the worst, the lowest of the lot in this place,’ I said, feeling that anger was gradually gaining the upper hand. ‘Yes, you’re dissolute and mercenary.’
‘I remember when you offered me that damned money… I didn’t understand what it meant at the time, but I do now.’
Anger gripped my whole being – and this anger was as strong as the love that had once begun to stir within me for the girl in red. After all, what person, what stone would have remained indifferent? Before me I saw beauty that had been cast by merciless fate into the mire. Neither youth, beauty nor grace had been spared. And now, when that woman struck me as more beautiful than ever, I felt what a great loss Nature had sustained in her – and an agonizing feeling of rage at the injustice of fate and the order of things filled my heart.
In moments of anger I am unable to control myself. I simply don’t know what else Olga would have had to listen to had she not turned her back on me and walked off. She walked slowly towards the trees and soon disappeared behind them. She seemed to be crying.
‘My dear ladies, my dear gentlemen!’ I heard Kalinin say as he embarked on his speech. ‘On this day, when we are all gathered here to… to unite together… Here we are, all assembled together, we all know one another, we are all enjoying ourselves and for this long-awaited union we are indebted to none other than our luminary, the shining star of our province… Now, please don’t be embarrassed, Count! The ladies understand whom I’m talking about. Heeheehee! Well, to continue. Since we owe all of this to our enlightened, to our youthful… our youthful Count Karneyev, I propose a toast to… But who’s that coming this way? Who is it?’
A carriage was bowling along from the direction of the Count’s estate towards the clearing where we were sitting.
‘Who can that be?’ the Count said in amazement, training his field glasses on the carriage. ‘Hm… strange… It must be some people passing by. Oh no! I can see Kaetan Kazimirovich’s ugly mug. Who’s that with him?’
Suddenly the Count leapt up as if he’d been stung. His face turned deathly pale, the field glasses fell from his hands, his eyes darted about like those of a trapped mouse and – as if pleading for help – came to rest, first on me, then on Nadezhda. Not everyone noticed his confusion, since most people’s attention was distracted by the approaching carriage.
‘Seryozha! Come over here for a moment!’ he whispered, seizing my arm and leading me to one side. ‘My dear chap, I beg you, as the best of friends, as the best of men… no questions, no inquiring looks, no surprise! I’ll tell you everything later. I swear that not one iota of this will be kept a secret from you. There’s been such a calamity in my life, such a terrible disaster, that I simply cannot describe it to you. You’ll know everything later, but for the moment – no questions! Help me!’
Meanwhile the carriage came nearer and nearer… Finally it stopped and our Count’s stupid secret became the property of the whole district. Out of the carriage stepped Pshekhotsky, puffing and smiling, and clad in a new light-brown tussore49 silk suit. After him a young lady of about twenty-three nimbly sprang out. She was a tall, shapely blonde, with regular but unpleasant features and dark-blue eyes. All I can remember is those blue, expressionless eyes, that powdered nose, that heavy but sumptuous dress and several massive bracelets on each arm… I remember the smell of evening damp and spilt brandy yielding to the pungent odour of some kind of perfume.
‘So many people here!’ the strange lady said in broken Russian. ‘You must all be having gay old time! Hullo, Aleksis!’
She went over to Aleksis and offered him her cheek. The Count quickly gave her a smacking kiss and anxiously surveyed his guests.
‘May I introduce my wife,’ he mumbled. ‘And these, Sozya, are my good friends. Hm… I’ve a bad cough…’
‘I’ve only just arrived, but Kaetan keeps telling me that I should rest. I ask you why should I rest if I slept whole way? I’d much rather go shooting! So I dressed myself and here I am! Kaetan, where’s my cigarettes?’
Pshekhotsky sprang forward and handed the blonde his gold cigarette case.
‘He’s my brother-in-law,’ the Count continued mumbling, pointing to Pshekhotsky. ‘But please help me,’ he went on, jogging my elbow. ‘Help me out of this, for God’s sake!’
They say that Kalinin suddenly came over bad and that Nadezhda wanted to help him but was unable to get up from her seat. They say that many people rushed to their carriages and drove off. I saw none of this. I do remember going into the forest, trying to find the path, not looking ahead and going where my legs took me.*
Bits of sticky clay hung from my legs and I was covered in mud when I emerged from the forest. Most probably I had to leap across a stream, but that’s something I cannot remember. I felt so exhausted, so worn out, it was as if I’d been severely beaten with sticks. I should have gone straight back to the Count’s estate, mounted Zorka and ridden off. But this I didn’t do and I set off home on foot. I couldn’t bear to see either the Count or his damned estate.†
My path lay along the banks of the lake. That watery monster had already begun to roar its evening song. Lofty, white-crested waves covered its entire, vast expanse. There was a rumbling and booming in the air. A cold, damp wind penetrated to my bones. To the left was the angry lake, while from the right came the monotonous noise of the grim forest. I felt that I was face to face with Nature, as if I were confronting someone in court. It seemed that all its anger, all those noises, all that bellowing, were intended for me alone. In any other circumstances I might have felt apprehensive, but now I barely noticed the giants that surrounded me. What was Nature’s wrath in comparison with the storm that was raging within me?*