The most remarkable features in it were; a sentry's box, before which a soldier with his musket was walking up and down, several droschki-stands surrounded by their idle drivers, and at last a range of wooden walls, painted grey, and with their usual inscriptions and characters drawn on them, with either chalk or charcoal; there was really nothing else worth mentioning to be seen on this desolate, or as it would be called in Russia—handsome square.
From out of the windows of the second and third stories, now and then a few heads of the unimpeachable and incorruptible administrator's assistants would make a momentary appearance and then immediately draw them back again, no doubt because their President entered the room at the moment.
The two friends now entered the large building and found themselves before a wide staircase, which they did not ascend, but rather scaled in a canter, because Tchichikoff was trying to escape the further assistance of Maniloff's arm, and therefore rushed quickly forward, whilst his friend Maniloff on the other hand, was also anxious to hasten forward in order to prevent Tchichikoff feeling tired from the ascension of the long flight of stairs. With these different objects in view, they both rushed madly as it were onward until they both met at the landing above, which, ended in a sudden collision in a dark passage.
Neither the passage nor the interior of the rooms which they entered immediately after, in any way made a pleasant impression upon their sight as regards cleanliness. It is true also, that at that particular moment, neither of them was disposed to pay any attention to the circumstance; and all that which was wanting in order and cleanliness, was therefore left to remain dirty and disorderly just as it was, assuming not the least feature of attraction. The door-keeper of the offices received his guests in a shabby and inelegant costume, and opened the door to the new corners.
It would perhaps have been deemed desirable to have a minute description of the various rooms through which our two heroes passed; but the author must confess, that he has a particular repugnance for any and all places of justice in any country, but particularly so for those in his own country. And even, though it has happened to him to pass or rather wind his way through some courts of justice decorated in the highest fashion, and covered with carpets and marqueterie, and polished tables, yet he always endeavoured to hurry his steps as much as possible, while casting down his eyes, and therefore it is quite impossible for him to give any interesting description of the inner charms and attractions of the courts of justice in the Russian Empire.
Our heroes saw numerous piles of waste paper and of white paper, many downcast heads, broad shoulders, dress-coats, and imperial shape and even some common grey cotton jackets, which contrasted very strongly with the other colours; some of these grey jacketed gentlemen had their heads bent all on one side, and nearly leaning on the paper, as if ready to fell asleep over their work, and yet they were busy scribbling, copying perhaps some brief or inventory concerning a mortgaged estate, which the Crown was about to take possession of, because the righteous owner had been ruined or banished from the country.
At intervals, short exclamations could be heard pronounced in a subdued and often unpleasant tone of voice, such as: "Mr. so and so, will you give me the application of No. 777! You are in the continual habit of mislaying the cork of the imperial ink-bottle!"
Now and then the sounds of a voice speaking in a tone of importance was also heard, no doubt proceeding from a superior officer, and consequently in a more autocratic manner:
"Here, take that and copy it off immediately, if not, I shall order your boots to be taken off your feet, and you shall have to sit for six hours without a chance of eating anything."
The noise produced by the quills in operation was very great indeed, and resembled very much the noise produced by a carriage when passing through a forest across a road strewn with dry autumnal leaves.
Tchichikoff and Maniloff approached the first table they were near, and at which two employés, rather young men, were sitting, and busying themselves in doing nothing, they addressed them in the following manner:
"Will you allow me to inquire, where the 'contract of sale' business is transacted in these offices?"
"And what is your business?" said both employés at once, whilst turning to the speaker.
"I want to hand in a petition concerning some contracts of sale."
"And what is it you have been buying?"
"Before telling that, I should have liked to know first where the contract of sale department is—is it here or in another place?"
"You must first tell us what you have been purchasing and at what price, and then we shall tell you where you will have to apply to, but without knowing this we cannot advise you." Tchichikoff saw at once that curiosity only prompted them to address these questions to him, and that like all young men or employés, they wished to gratify their curiosity and give at the same time a greater importance to themselves and to their occupations.
"My good young gentlemen," said Tchichikoff, "I am perfectly aware that all contracts of sale, no matter at what price a bargain has been concluded, are settled and legalised at one and the same place, and if you don't know what is doing at your table, then we shall at once proceed to ask some one else."
The employés made no reply whatever to this observation, but one of them pointed with his fore-finger to the corner of the room, where an elderly man was sitting behind a table and stirring about in a heap of papers.
Tchichikoff and Maniloff passed through a long range of tables straight towards the old man. He seemed to be very seriously engaged with his occupation.
"Sir, will you allow me to ask you," said Tchichikoff with a bow, "whether this is the department or section for the conclusion of contracts of sale?"
The elderly employé lifted up his eyes and spoke abruptly in reply: "contract of sale business is not transacted here."
"And pray, where then?"
"In the section for the conclusion of contracts of sale."
"But where am I to find this section?"
"It is under the superintendence of Ivan Antonovitch."
"Could you perhaps tell me where I might find Ivan Antonovitch?"
The old man pointed with his forefinger to another corner of the extensive room. Tchichikoff and Maniloff hurried towards the seat of Ivan Antonovitch, who had espied them already with one of his eyes and scrutinized them now with the other, which having done, he immediately plunged again if possible still deeper into his occupation.
"Allow me to ask if you please," spoke Tchichikoff with a civil bow, "is this the section for the contracts of sale?"
Ivan Antonovitch appeared as if he had not heard the question at all, and busied himself as completely as possible among his papers without saying a word in reply. It was evident that this person was already a man of a sedate and serious age, and not at all like those two youngsters or madcaps. Ivan Antonovitch seemed to be already at some distance beyond forty years; his hair was black and abundantly covered his head; the centre of his face seemed to rush forward towards its extremity, the nose, in a word, it was a face that would be called in ordinary Russian parlance, a muggy one.
"Allow me to ask you, Sir, if this is the department for the conclusion of contracts of sale?" Tchichikoff demanded again.
"Yes," answered Ivan Antonovitch, turning his muggy face towards the inquirer for a moment, and, then immediately beginning to write again.
"My business is the following: I have purchased of several landed proprietors in this province a number of serfs with the intention of settling them elsewhere: the contracts of sale are prepared and now only require to be lawfully legalized."
"Are the contracting parties present?"
"Some of them are in town, others have sent their powers of attorney."
"Have you brought a written petition on the subject?"
"I have done so, Sir. I should have liked, that is to say, I would be very glad indeed to terminate this business as soon as possible. Therefore, could we not, for an instance, begin at once in order to finish all this very day?"
"Oh to-day! that is quite impossible," said Ivan Antonovitch. "Due inquiries must be made in the first instance to ascertain if no objections could or would be raised in the matter."
"As regards this, and in order to speed the subject, I may inform you, Sir, that Ivan Gregorievitch, the president, is an intimate friend of mine."
"But allow me to observe to you, Sir, that Ivan Gregorievitch is not the only person who would have to attend to this matter; there are other persons as well," said Ivan Antonovitch dryly.
Tchichikoff caught at once the hint which Ivan Gregorievitch had dropped for his information, and said, "nor shall others have to complain of me, I have been in the civil service of our country myself, I know what business and promptitude means."
"Well, then I would advise you to go at once to the President," said Ivan Antonovitch, in a rather pleasanter tone of voice, "let him give his instructions to whom it concerns, and as for ourselves you may be assured that your business shall be attended to."
Tchichikoff produced a white bank-note from his pocket-book and laid it on the table before Ivan Antonovitch, which the other did not seem to see at all, but instantly covered with a large book. Tchichikoff was about drawing his attention to it, but Ivan Antonovitch with a peculiar nod of his head made him understand that it was perfectly unnecessary.
"That man will shew you into the President's private office," said Ivan Antonovitch, whilst making a sign to one of the employés to approach, who happened to be just in the way and no doubt ready to devote all his energies to the service of justice and his country, in which devotion he seemed to have even sacrificed his coat, if we were to judge by his two sleeves, which had burst at both elbows and which now displayed the lining to great advantage, and for which services and devotion of years such men are generally dismissed with a useless title or a paltry pension.
This man then joined our friends and served them like Virgil once assisted Dante, and led them through a long range of tables and rooms into the office of the President, where they saw a lonely, large and comfortable arm-chair, in which and before a table and two huge books they beheld the President, radiant like the sun.
At this sight, the modern Virgil felt an inexpressible feeling of delight overcome him suddenly, so great and powerful indeed, that he would not dare to venture a step further but turned round immediately, and thus showed the back of his coat which was completely worn out and covered all over with down and feathers. When the two friends had entered the apartment they saw that the President was not alone; behind him sat Sobakevitch, who was completely hidden by a large cheval looking-glass. The entrance of the two guests was hailed with an exclamation of joyful surprise, and the presidential chair was pushed back loudly. Sobakevitch also rose from his seat, and as he thus happened to be standing before the looking-glass, his huge figure and extensively wide and long sleeves of his coat loomed larger than ever.
The President most cordially embraced Tchichikoff, and the walls of the justice-room re-echoed their tender exchange of affection, they then civilly inquired after the respective state of their health, and it proved that they were both suffering from pains in their loins, the natural consequence of a sedentary life and occupations.
The President seemed to have been already informed by Sobakevitch of Tchichikoff's purchase, because he now begun to compliment him on the subject, which at first seemed rather to take our hero by surprise, especially when the idea occurred to him, that two of the contracting parties, namely Maniloff and Sobakevitch, with whom he had come to an understanding of mutual secrecy, were now standing opposite one another.
However, he soon recovered himself, and thanking the President for his civil inquiries, he immediately turned towards Sobakevitch and asked him politely.
"And how do you do?"
"Thank Heavens, I have no reason to complain," answered Sobakevitch. And really he had no cause of complaint; it would have been easier for a piece of pig-iron to catch a cold and begin to cough, than for this wonderfully constituted landed proprietor.
"True enough, you have always enjoyed an excellent state of health," the President observed, "and I remember your late father, was as strong and healthy a man as yourself."
"Yes, he was in the habit of going bearhunting all by himself," answered Sobakevitch.
"However, I am of opinion," said the President again, "that you could master a bear as well, if you liked to encounter one."
"No, I could not," Sobakevitch answered; "my late father was much stronger than I am;" and, after a deep sigh, he continued: "No, the men of our present day are not what they used to be formerly. Take me even for an example; what is my life and strength? I have just sufficient energy to bear my life."
"Why, what makes you complain of your life?" the President inquired again.
"It is not good or satisfactory!" exclaimed Sobakevitch, whilst shaking his head slowly. "Just judge yourself, Ivan Gregorievitch: I am at the beginning of my third score, and have not once suffered the slightest complaint or indisposition, not even from a cold. Now you will agree with me that this cannot be for the better. Some fine day will dawn when I shall have, no doubt, to pay dearly for this, my present state of health and life."
Hereupon Sobakevitch relapsed into what seemed a state of melancholy or hypochondria.
"What a strange fancy, to be sure," the President and Tchichikoff thought at the same time, "to be brooding on such a subject."
"I have a letter for you my dear President," said Tchichikoff, producing Pluschkin's letter, with the evident intention of changing the subject of their conversation.
"And pray from whom?" the President demanded, as he was breaking the seal; and, having done so, he exclaimed: "Ah! is it possible, from Pluschkin. He is still a wanderer on the surface of this world. What a strange fate, that man's is; for I must tell you, gentlemen, that he was one of the most accomplished, and wealthiest men I ever happened to know! and now—"
"A real dog," said Sobakevitch, "a rascal, who has starved the greater part of his serfs."
"Very well, and with great pleasure," said the President, when he had read the letter; "I am willing to be his representative and agent in the matter. When do you wish to sign the contracts, now or later?"
"Now, if you please," said Tchichikoff; "and I shall even beg of you to transact all the business, if possible, to-day, because I wish to leave town to-morrow on some important affairs. I have brought with me the various documents—such as the contract of sale, the petition, and the list of names; in fact everything is ready."
"All this is well and good," said the President; "do as you please; but we do not intend to part with you so easily. The contracts shall be attended to, and signed this very day, on condition that you will consent to remain with us. I will give my instructions immediately," continued the high officer of the crown, as he opened the door leading into the office, which was now crowded with employés, who, like the industrious bees, were gathered in heaps of a hundred, on the spot; if it was possible that so many of them could have found any real employment. "Ivan Antonovitch, is he there?"
"Here!" answered a voice from the interior.
"Send him to me!"
The muggy face of Ivan Antonovitch, already so familiar to us, soon after made its appearance before the President's room, and he entered with a profusion of servile bowing.
"Take these papers, Ivan Antonovitch, all these contracts of sale must be—"
"By the bye, do not forget, Ivan Gregorievitch," interrupted Sobakevitch, "that we shall require witnesses, at least two for each contracting party. I would suggest that you should send at once to the Procurator, he is a regular holiday-man, and is sure to be at home—his public business is usually managed by his lawyer, Mr. Solotucha, the greatest sharp I ever met with in this world. The Superintendent of the Medical Faculties is also a holiday-bird, and likely to be at home, if he has not already gone to play cards somewhere; however, there are a great many more besides those two, and who live even nearer, for instance, Truchatchevitch, Beguschikin, all these people live free of expense in this wide world."
"Just so, exactly, you are perfectly right!" said the President; and he immediately gave instructions to some of his messengers to go in search of the parties just mentioned by Sobakevitch.
"I will also request you," added Tchichikoff, "to send for the attorney of a widow lady, with whom I have also concluded a trifling business. Her agent is the son of the Proto-pope, Father Kyrila; I am told he holds an appointment in your offices."
"To be sure we shall have him as well," said the President. "Everything shall be done to your satisfaction, but as for my employés, I must beg, nay even insist upon, your giving them no gratuity. I never suffer any of my friends to pay for anything."
Saying this, he immediately gave all the necessary instructions to Ivan Antonovitch, who seemed not to like the arrangements at all. The contracts of sale seemed to produce a very favourable impression upon the mind of the President, especially when he had glanced over them, and found that the purchases made by Tchichikoff amounted to nearly half a million of silver roubles. He kept looking for several minutes at Tchichikoff, straight into the eyes, with a feeling of great satisfaction, and then added, smiling:
"It is thus, then! In such a manner then my dear Pavel Ivanovitch, you have made some valuable and important acquisitions indeed!"
"Yes, really, I have made some acquisitions," replied Tchichikoff, modestly.
"A good speculation, really—a capital undertaking!"
"Yes, indeed, and I must own that I am of opinion that I could not venture into a more profitable business. Whatever the opinion of the world may be, I opine that the aim of a man is never thoroughly defined, if he does not stand with a firm footing upon a solid foundation, and not upon any frivolous chimera of a youthful imagination."
Hereupon, he added in a few more strong terms, and in good time, his disapproval of the hot-headed liberalism of the present youthful generation. But it was remarkable that with all his clever reasoning, there was a slight irregularity in the usual calm and dignified tone of voice, as if he was at the same time whispering to himself, "Oh, my good fellow, how mercilessly you impose upon people!" He even did not venture to lift his eyes either to Sobakevitch or Maniloff, fearing to meet some peculiar expression in their faces or countenance.
However, his alarms were imaginary. Sobakevitch's face was perfectly devoid of any expression whatever, whilst Maniloff was perfectly captivated by his elaborate speech. He only kept nodding his head approvingly, and throwing himself into that peculiar position into which an amateur of music would plunge when his favourite prima donna has surpassed even the notes of the violin, and sent forth a tone which the throat of a bird would have been incapable of articulating.
"But why don't you mention to our friend Ivan Gregorievitch," Sobakevitch interrupted at last, "what kind of acquisition you have been making? And you, my dear President, why don't you ask him what purchases he has been making? Excellent people, as valuable as gold. I must inform you that I have even sold him my old Micheeff, the coach-builder."
"No, really, have you sold that excellent fellow Micheeff?" the President inquired. "I remember now your coach-builder, Micheeff, very well—an excellent and clever artisan. He has often mended my droschki. But stop, allow me—how is this—I remember now, you told me that he was dead."
"Who! Micheeff dead?" said Sobakevitch, and nearly betraying himself. "It was his brother who died; as for the coach-builder, he is perfectly alive and healthier than ever he was before. He finished the other day a britchka with which you might venture to travel in a canter to Moscow. I am of opinion that he ought to be appointed to work for the Emperor alone."
"Yes, truly, Micheeff is a very clever fellow indeed," said the President, "and I am even surprised that you could agree to part with him for any amount or consideration."
"Micheeff is not the only one. I have even sold Stephen Korobka, the joiner; Milushkin, the potter; Maxim Teliatnikoff, the shoemaker—they are all gone, I have got rid of every one of them."
But when the President asked him why he had thus disposed of them, as they were all such clever and indispensable workmen on a country estate, Sobakevitch answered, whilst sawing his right arm in the air:
"Bah, I was attacked by a peculiar whim of mine, and I said to myself, I am determined, and will sell all these fellows, and thus, then, I got rid of them all on account of a fancy." After this explanation; he allowed his head to hang down, as if he was addressing inward reproaches to himself, and then he added again:
"Though you see that I am already a greyhaired man, yet I must confess I am still deficient in wisdom."
"But allow me to ask you, my dear Pavel Ivanovitch," the President said again, "how did you purchase these serfs, without the land they were born upon? is it with the intention of removing them from here?"
"Just so, for emigration."
"Ah, for emigration views, that is another thing. And pray for what part of the country? if the question is not indiscreet?"
"To what part of the country—oh, ah, I shall take them into the government of Kherson."
"Oh, that is one of the finest provinces in the Empire!" exclaimed the President, and expressed his high praise of the excellency of the soil in that province, and the richness of its steppes. "And have you sufficient land for the accommodation of your newly-acquired population?"
"Just sufficient for comfortable distribution among my new serfs."
"Have you a fine flowing river, or a brook?"
"A river. However, there is also a large brook." Saying this, Tchichikoff involuntarily looked at Sobakevitch, and though the other remained as cool and indifferent as before, nevertheless it seemed to him as if the following was as it were, written in the expression of his face. "Oh, what a falsehood! for it is not likely that you will have a river and a brook as well, when, perhaps you have not even a piece of land!"
Whilst a lively conversation continued to be carried on between the parties assembled in the President's office, the witnesses began to arrive one by one: among the earlier arrivals was a man already known to our reader, the winking Procurator; he was immediately followed by the Superintendant of the Medical Faculties, then came Truchatchevitch, Beguschikin, and all those whom Sobakevitch had enumerated as uselessly walking about on the face of the earth.
Many of them were total strangers to Tchichikoff, whilst the missing witnesses were easily supplied from the ranks of the employés in the offices, in fact there was rather a superfluity of them, for not only the son of the Proto-pope, Father Kyrila was present, but even the worthy old man himself. Every one of the required witnesses now began to sign their names on the various documents, not forgetting to append their rank or title. As for each individual signature, it was an original for itself as regards the execution of the letters which formed the names, and certainly it would have been very difficult indeed to find corresponding ones in the Russian alphabet.
The well-known individual, Ivan Antonovitch displayed considerable activity, and in a very short time, all the contracts of sale were duly booked and registered in the government ledger; according to the regulations, an impost of a half per cent was calculated on the whole, including the publication of the transaction in the "Ministerial Gazetteer," and at the conclusion of the business, Tchichikoff found that his expenses were but a mere trifle. The President even gave instructions, that one half only of the half per cent impost duty should be received from his friend; as for the other half, it was carried to the account of some other indifferent petitioner.
"And now," said the President, when all the business was concluded, "now, we shall only have to sprinkle a little wine and inaugurate your excellent and important enterprise."
"I am agreeable," said Tchichikoff. "I leave it entirely to you to fix upon the place and time. It would be sinful were I not to feel most happy to be agreeable in turn to such estimable company as all those around me; yes, gentlemen, now is the time to uncork a few or more bottles of that excellent sparkling wine of our brothers in France."
"No, pardon me, you misunderstand the matter: for we will ourselves provide the sparkling entertainment," said the President, "we feel this to be an obligation, our duty. You are our guest; we are bound to regale you. Do you know, gentlemen, what I will suggest to you; whatever we do later, for the present I propose that we adjourn at once and all, just as we are, to the house of our friend the Commissioner of Police; he is a wonderful man amongst us; we need only give him a slight hint and pass the fish-market or a wine-cellar, and you may depend upon it that we shall make a luncheon equal to a feast! at the same time I may observe that we shall have an excellent opportunity for a nice game of whist or lansquenet."
Such a suggestion no one could possibly withstand. The witnesses felt a voracious appetite at the mere mention of the fish, market; they all rushed to take their hats and caps, and the sitting of the court was adjourned. When they passed through the room in which Ivan Antonovitch, the muggy-face, was sitting, he bowed politely, and whispered to Tchichikoff:
"You have purchased serfs for nearly half-a-millions' worth, but rewarded my troubles with a lonely twenty-fiver."
"But what serfs!" replied Tchichikoff to this, also in an undertone; "really useless, worthless people, not worth half the money."
Ivan Antonovitch, hearing this, felt at once convinced that the stranger was of a positive character and would give him no more.
"How much a-head did you pay for Pluschkin's serfs?" Sobakevitch whispered into his other ear.
"And why have you put on the list that Vorobieff," said Tchichikoff, in reply to his question.
"What Vorobieff?" demanded Sobakevitch.
"I mean the woman, Elizabeth Vorobieff, it seems as if you even took some pains to pass her off as a man."
"I attempted nothing of the sort," said Sobakevitch, as he went to join the other guests.
The guests proceeded all in a crowd towards the house of the Commissioner of Police. The commander of the police-force of Smolensk, was really and without flattery a wonderful man. Scarcely had he been informed of what his friends expected from him, when he immediately called one of his satellites, a fine and quick young fellow in shiny boots, to whom He seemed to whisper but two words, and then added aloud: "You understand me?" and thereupon, whilst the guests were trying to spend a little while in the next room, in playing a game of whist; the following dishes made their successive appearance upon the table: three different kinds of sturgeon called respectively: osetra, beluga, and sewruga, smoked and pickled salmon, fresh and preserved caviar, some cheese, smoked ox-tongues, and a variety of other fish dainties, made up the supplies from the fish-market.
Then were brought up additional supplies, furnished by the master of the house from his own kitchen; a large pie, containing the head, cartilage and jaws of a sturgeon that must have weighed more than three hundred pounds, besides a variety of other minced tarts, baked in sweet oils and butter.
The Commissioner of Police was in some respects considered as the father and benefactor of the town. He was perfectly at home among the majority of the citizens, and was accustomed to visit their shops and the market-places as if they were his own warehouses. He generally sat—as the phrase goes—in his right place, and did his duty accordingly.
The majority of the tradesmen courted him particularly, because he was not proud; and really, his condescension towards them was very great indeed, when we take into consideration his exalted position; he stood as godfather to all their children, and attended every one of their evening parties, and though he made them pay heavy fines, whenever he found an occasion, yet he did it so exceedingly cleverly, that they could not feel angry with him for doing his duty: he would tap them in a friendly manner, on the shoulder, and add a pleasant smile, treat them with an excellent cup of tea at his own house, promise them to call at their house of shop and play a game of draughts, inquire after everybody and everything; ask them how they were satisfied with trade, and in fact, take a lively interest in all their concerns.
If he should happen to hear that one or the other of the children had caught a cold, or was otherwise indisposed, he would immediately attend upon him personally, and suggest a variety of remedies to cure him, in a word he was a clever man! If he happened to drive about in his droschki, he was sure to make as many calls as he possibly could,.and meanwhile drop a sly word to the one or to the other, and say:
"Now then, master Micheitch, I think it high time for us two to have a hand at a game of cards, what do you say to that?"
"Yes, Ivan Alexeitch," answers Master Micheitch, good-humouredly, whilst taking off his cap, "I think it a favourable opportunity for us to have a game."
"Well, brother Elias Paramonitch, would you like to come and look at my trotter? I am ready to run a race with your horse I saw the other day; we will try them and have a trifling bet on them."
The merchant who was madly fond of race horses, but especially of trotters, smiled at the proposal with an unusual gratification, and whilst stroking his long beard he would say:
"Very well, Alexei Ivanovitch, we will try them!"
At such moments all idle bystanders would usually take off their caps and smile with inward satisfaction at each other, and appear as if they wished to say:
"Alexei Ivanovitch is an excellent, kind and good-hearted gentleman!"
In a word, he had succeeded in gaining universal esteem, and the opinion of all the merchants who knew him was, that if Alexei Ivanovitch once captivated a fellow, he never parted with him again.
The Commissioner of Police, when he perceived that the luncheon was ready on the table, suggested to his guests that they should finish their game of whist afterwards, and all entered that room from which an agreeable and inviting perfume began to titillate the nostrils and stomachs of the guests, and into which Sobakevitch had already for some time been casting longing glances at an immense sturgeon which was lying on a side table, upon a large dish.
The guests tasted as a relish to sharpen their appetite, a liqueur of that dark olive colour, which is only seen in Siberian precious stones, and which are used in Russia for valuable ornaments only; having done so they approached the table from all sides with fork in hand, and began to display their choice of taste, or if we may say so, every one his character and inclination, in attacking the one, the fresh caviar, another, the large fish pie, a third, the cheese and so forth.
Sobakevitch left all the smaller dishes unnoticed, and betook himself at once to the large dish with the sturgeon upon it, and whilst the other guests were eating, talking and drinking, he had succeeded in the short space of a quarter of an hour, and without any great exertions in eating nearly the whole fish, so that when the Police-master accidentally bethought himself of the fish, saying:
"By the bye, I wonder, gentlemen, how you will like this wonderful production of nature?" and then approaching the dish with fork in hand and followed by his guests, he found but the tail left of his wonderful production of nature.
As for Sobakevitch, he feigned not to notice it, but taking up a plate he coolly approached another dish with small fried fish upon it, and used his fork to pick up a few of them, as if he had no real appetite. After having thus quietly dispatched the sturgeon, Sobakevitch sat himself down in an easy chair, and neither ate nor drank any more, but like a cat, kept licking his lips and winking his eyes.
The first toast proposed after luncheon, was as our reader may easily and naturally imagine, to the health and prosperity of the noble landed proprietor from the government of Kherson; then, to the welfare and happy settlement on his estate of his newly acquired peasants; and last, not least, to the health of his intended spouse, the boisterous hip, hip, hurrahs, which followed the last toast, forcing a pleasant smile from the lips of our hero.
Immediately after his health had been drank, he was at once surrounded by every one present, one and all of whom begged and entreated him to prolong his sojourn in Smolensk for, at least, two weeks.
"No, no, Pavel Ivanovitch! say what you like, but give way to our persuasions, for you cannot deny our proverbs, and if you leave us you would but cool our huts—enter upon the threshold and retreat! No, no, you had better stop and spend your time with us! We will marry you if you like; what do you say to that Ivan Gregorievitch, shall we marry him?"
"We'll marry him, we'll find him a wife," his Excellency the President rejoined. "However much you might feel inclined to struggle with hands and feet against it, we are determined to marry you! No, excellent papa, there is no getting out of this, since you have fallen among us, you must not complain. We are not jesting with you."
"Well, gentlemen, why should I struggle, with hands and feet?" said Tchichikoff, smiling. "Matrimonial ties are not to be rejected thoughtlessly, provided the bride could be found."
"We'll find you a bride. How should we not? We shall find everything, all—whatever your heart may wish for."
"Ah! in such a case—"
"Bravo! he will stay!" was the general shout. "Vivat! hurra to our Pavel Ivanovitch Tchichikoff! Hip! hip! hurrah!" And all approached him again to shake hands and touch glasses. Tchichikoff made his response to everybody. "Stop, stop, once more!" said those of a more lively disposition, and touched glasses again; they then assailed him for a third time, and touched glasses for a third time.
In a very short time afterwards they became all very gay and lively. The President, who was a most amiable man when in a cheerful disposition, embraced Tchichikoff several times and in the excess of his overflowing heart, said to him, "Oh, you are my darling—my mother!" and then he would smack his fingers at him, and begin to dance and sing around him.
After the champagne, they had some sparkling Hungarian wine, which considerably heightened the good-humour of the company. They had now entirely forgotten their game of whist; they were arguing loudly, shouting, singing and speaking of everything, not even excluding politics, nor the military preparations that were carried on already at that time with hostile intentions towards Turkey; which, as a matter of course, led them further on to express their mutual disapprobation of the Emperor's conduct, and which free expressions at any other time they would have severely resented even from their children.
In this instance, they conversed freely and decided the most important questions of state, which would have considerably embarrassed even a Menschikoff and a Nesselrode. Tchichikoff never felt so happy and well-disposed as on this occasion, and fancied himself to be really a landed proprietor of the beautiful province of Kherson; he began to speak of a variety of improvements; on the system of English and American improvements in agriculture and machinery; on the happiness and beatitude of two loving hearts, and even began to recite to Sobakevitch the verses of Werther to Charlotte, to which declamation the other could do nothing better than wink with his eyes, because, after the meal he had made of the sturgeon, he felt a great inclination for a doze.
Tchichikoff now began to feel that he was becoming rather too free and communicative, and therefore accepted the droschki of the Procurator. The coachman of the imperial gentleman proved to be a fellow of a sharp intellect, and displayed it on the road, for he did not guide his horses with both hands, but contrived to do so with his left only, whilst with his right, he managed to help the gentleman to keep his seat on the equipage. In this manner, our hero drove home in a strange carriage, whilst a thousand stranger ideas kept continually crossing his mind. A fair bride, with golden hair, rosy cheeks with a mole on both, a splendid estate and villages in the fair province of Kherson, and a large fortune to match it. Selifan even received some sundry instructions concerning his new method of administration, to call together all the recently acquired serfs, and to pass them in review one by one, and show them the land and hut allotted to them in their new settlement by their noble lord and master.
Selifan listened silently and for a long while, but then he left the room, saying to Petruschka, "Petruschka, go and undress your master." Petruschka began to take off his boots, and his master succeeded in undressing himself properly; and after turning over several times in his bed, which in consequence creaked most unmercifully, he fell asleep, under the positive impression that he was a landed proprietor of the fair province of Kherson.
Meanwhile, Petruschka carried into the lobby the pantaloons and the snuff-coloured dress-coat with the brass buttons, and having spread them across a wooden stand, he began to whip and brush so well and much that the landing of the staircase was soon filled with a cloud of dust.
As he was on the point of taking the clothes off, he happened to glance down the landing and saw Selifan, who was returning from the stable; their glances met, and they at once understood one another as if by intuition. "Our master is fast asleep, now is our time to go and look about a little." To take the dress-coat and trowsers into the room was done in an instant, and immediately after Petruschka had rejoined his friend below, and both went out together.
Not a word was said about where they intended to go, and on the road they talked of the most indifferent subjects. Their walk was not a long one; they simply crossed the street and entered the house opposite to the inn; they then approached a low smoky glass door, which led, as it were, into a cellar, where they beheld a number of strange-looking people sitting around wooden tables; some were well shaved, others again wore their beard long, according to the national custom; some were dressed in a sheep-skin with the wool inside, others again simply in shirt-sleeves, and here and there a few in a common felt cloak.
What Petruschka and Selifan did there, we cannot say, but when they left the house in about an hour after they entered it, they made their appearance in the open street, arm-in-arm, preserving a strict silence, but helping and upholding one another most carefully, and cleverly avoiding each stone and turning. Hand-in-hand and holding each other strongly, they remained for more than a quarter of an hour at the foot of the staircase; at last, being convinced that they were right, they began the ascent, in which they succeeded to their mutual satisfaction after many exertions.
They now entered the room, and Petruschka stood musingly for a few minutes before his bedstead, which, as our reader may perhaps recollect, was of the most wretched description; he was thinking how he should lie down in order to sleep with the greatest degree of comfort, at last he laid himself down perfectly across the bed, so that his feet rested upon the floor. Selifan laid himself down also upon the same bed, but so that his head rested upon the stomach of his comrade, and thus forgot completely that he had no right to sleep in this room at all, but ought to have gone down in the lower hall or in his stable to watch his horses.
In this position they both fell immediately fast asleep, and began to snore as loudly and as deeply as any Russian bear could possibly snore; their deep notes were answered from the other room by their master, in a fine, nasal, steam-pipe whistle. Soon after, the whole of the establishment had sunk as it were into a magic slumber, with the exception, however, of one lonely window, in which a light was yet glimmering; this room was occupied by the lieutenant who had arrived with his own carriage and horses. According to the head-waiter's information, he came from Rizan, and was evidently passionately fond of boots, or he had already ordered four pair of Wellingtons and was now busily engaged in trying on the fifth pair.
He had already several times approached his bed with the evident object of laying down to his rest, but it was impossible—he could not succeed; the boots were too well-made, and he continued yet for a considerable time to look at and admire his boots, which were very well made indeed; the heels especially seemed to keep his attention awake, because they were extensively high—according to the latest fashion.
The purchases made by our friend Tchichikoff became the gossip of the day, and created a great sensation in Smolensk. The whole town conversed freely on the subject, opinions were given, and conclusions arrived at, whilst questions arose whether it was a good speculation to purchase serfs in the north, with the object in view of transplanting or settling them in the south.
Animated, as the majority of persons are by a spirit of contradiction, many pronounced themselves perfectly capable of enumerating all the advantages and disadvantages on the great undertaking of the stranger.
"Certainly," said some one of them, "you are perfectly right on several points, and your argument is as dear as it is obvious, no objection can be raised against it: the soil in the southern provinces of the Empire, and especially near the Crimea, is very rich and productive; but his estate seems to be situated at some considerable distance from the Dnieper, which flows through our very town, and what is our friend Tchichikoff, and what especially are his serfs to do without a river? for you cannot deny it—he has no river."
"Well, my dear Stephan Dmitrievitch, don't excite yourself, for Heaven's sake don't, to be without a river is, after all, not so bad as you seem to imagine, allow me to tell you, that the process of emigrating and settling serfs, is by far the greatest difficulty. Is it not well-known what our serfs are? to transplant them as it were upon a fresh soil, and train them again to a foreign system of agriculture, is, in my humble opinion, a herculean task, besides you must not forget, that if the serf really arrives alive at his new destination, he generally finds nothing to shelter his head under, but has to build his own hut, though the cattle is found for him. Add to all these disadvantages, and you know it as well as I, the desperate character of those fellows, and you will come to the conclusion, that if they take it in their heads to run away, you may but whistle after them, and this argument you must allow to be as clear and conclusive as that two and two make four."
"No, no, my dear Alexei Ivanovitch, allow me, pardon me, if I disagree with you on that point, that the serfs of Tchichikoff should take it into their heads to run away. The Russian is fit for everything, and can accustom himself to any climate. Send him even to Siberia or Kamtchatka if you like, but give him only a pair of leather gloves and his hatchet, and you may depend upon it that he will clasp his fist, and build himself another hut in no time."
"Allow me to tell you, Ivan Gregorievitch, that you have lost sight of a very important fact indeed: you have forgotten to inquire of what character Tchichikoff's new serfs are? You seem to forget that a wise owner will never sell a good, industrious, and valuable serf. I am ready to lay down my head upon the block, if Tchichikoff's newly-acquired peasants are not one and all confirmed drunkards, and riotous people, and thieves and murderers in the bargain."
"Just so, exactly, I agree with you on this point; and I will allow that all Tchichikoff's slaves are confirmed drunkards, but we must also take into consideration, that in this very fact lies the moral, yes, I repeat it, in this fact lies the hidden moral, which has escaped your penetration; as you justly observed, they are all scoundrels now, but leaving their old abode, and settling in a different country, they might easily become most valuable subjects. Such instances and examples have been very frequent within our own country, as well as in other empires, nay, even history proves them."
"Never, never," said the Inspector of the the Imperial Manufactories, "believe me, such things can never happen, because Tchichikoff's serfs are now going to encounter two formidable enemies: their first antagonist will be the close proximity of the Malo-Russian provinces, where, as you all well know, spirits of wine are sold duty free. I can assure you that in less than two weeks they will become like inner-soles from pure drinking. Their other enemy is their natural disposition for idling and wandering about, which is sure to develope itself most powerfully during the progress of their emigration. Unless, indeed, Tchichikoff was to have them continually under his eyes, and was to keep them with a strong hand like a jamtchick his troika, scold them for the least trifle, not trust to anyone else but himself, be continually with and after them, and when occasion require it, treat them like our great Emperor Peter did, even with his generals, namely, give them a box in the ear, or a blow in the neck."
"But why should Tchichikoff take all the trouble to box their ears and face himself, he could easily meet with a trustworthy steward to manage his estate as well as his serfs."
"Oh, oh, find a trustworthy steward; but, my dear man, you forget that they are generally all scoundrels, and the real blood-suckers of the peasantry!"
"They are all rogues because of the indolence of the land owners, who will not take the trouble and look after their own interest."
"You are perfectly right;" re-echoed the majority. "If our proud and wealthy landowners were only to know a little of their household interests and understand how to choose their confidants, matters would stand quite different in our holy Russia, and stewards, would be honest men."
One of the gentlemen present who happened to be an imperial manager, hereupon said, that it was quite impossible to find a conscientious and honest manager for less than five thousand silver roubles a-year. But the President at once rejoined that such a virtuous man might even be met with at three thousand a-year.
But the manager boldly rejoined: "where could you find such a person? hanging about your elbows perhaps?" And the President in turn again replied: "he is not exactly hanging at my elbow's ends, but at any rate not far off from here, and if you like to know where, I can tell you that he lives in my very district, and his name is Peter Petrovitch Rasgerischin; and that is the very man that would suit our friend Tchichikoff as a manager for his estates and serfs."
Many entered feelingly into Tchichikoff's position, and the difficulties that would necessarily arise from the displacement of such a large number of serfs, began to alarm them very seriously indeed; in their apprehensions some of them went even so far as to predict the possible outbreak of a riot, especially as the thought occurred to them of what description the serfs of Tchichikoff were represented to be.
With reference to this latter contingency, the Commissioner of Police observed, "that it was foolish to anticipate a riot, because a few hundred peasants were about to emigrate, and admitting even that some slight disturbances were to happen, there existed the power of the Capitän-Ispravnik to stifle it in its very birth, and that if the Capitän-Ispravnik did not choose to attend to the matter in person, it would be quite sufficient for him to send his cap, which like the policeman in England, would be powerful enough to drive the rioters back to their duty and home in an incredibly short space of time."
Many others again offered their advice how the spirit of revolt—which in their wise opinion of the serfs of Tchichikoff, was sure to break out among them—could be repressed or prevented, especially when the poor fellows, namely the serfs, were to be torn away from their native soil, and perhaps the bosom of their families.
The opinions and suggestions on this point were numerous and original; there were some who advised rather stringent measures, all replete with military rigour, if not barbarity, at any rate of a very severe nature indeed; however, there were also a few who advised kindness and compassion. The Postmaster observed, that he was under a sacred obligation, that it lay in his power to become a father to his slaves, to use his own expression; introduce even among them the blessing of moral and physical emancipation and enlightenment, at the same time he did not forget to mention with great praise the Lancastrian system of mutual education.
It was in such a manner that the good inhabitants of Smolensk expressed, themselves on the subject of our hero's enterprise, and many of them, overpowered by their goodwill towards him, even communicated their suggestions personally to him, and even went so far as to offer him the services of an escort, for the safer conveyance of his serfs to their place of destination.
For their advice, Tchichikoff thanked them most cordially, saying, that if he should have occasion he would not fail to avail himself of their kind suggestions, but as for the preferred military escort, he declined it in the most positive terms, assuring them at the same time, that it would be perfectly unnecessary, as the peasants which he had bought were all of an extremely mild character, and that they felt a free and independent inclination to settle over in another country where they were sure to feel happy; and that as to the anticipated riot, which his friends apprehended, he assured them that under such happy auspices this was a contingency which could impossibly happen among his newly-acquired serfs.
Such and similar conversations and discussions produced, however, the most beneficial consequences for the interest of Tchichikoff, and which he was far from anticipating; namely, the news was spread about, that he was nothing more or less than a millionaire. The inhabitants of Smolensk, without this new advantage, had already taken a particular fancy for Tchichikoff, as we have seen already from the first chapter; but now, and after such a report they began to like him more than heartily if possible.
However, if we are to speak the truth, we must confess that they were all excellent people, lived in concord and unity, and behaved themselves in the most friendly and christian-like manner; whilst their daily conversation bore the stamp of a peculiar simplicity and candour quite of a primitive nature: "My dear friend Yliah Ylitsch! listen, brother Anthipator Sacharievitch! you have told a falsehood, my dear old gossip Ivan Gregorievitch!" and whenever they addressed themselves to the Postmaster, whom they called Ivan Andreievitch, they were sure to add, "sprechen sie deutsch?" in a word all lived in a very friendly and homely manner.
Many of them were hot without pretensions to a superior education; his Excellency the President of the Council, for instance, knew by heart several of the poems of Pushkin and Zoukovsky, and could recite them with due emphasis, especially the passage commencing, "The forest sleeps, the plain is silent," and the word "hush!" was so cleverly pronounced by him, that it really seemed as if the forest was actually fast asleep; in order to add more effect and truthfulness to his recitation, he used at this passage to close his eyelids immediately.
The Postmaster inclined more towards natural philosophy, and continued reading very diligently, even during the night Young's "Night Thoughts," and the "Key to the Secrets of Nature," by Eckartshausen, from which books he was even in the habit of making very long extracts, but of what description these extracts were it is impossible for us to tell; on the whole, he was sharp and acute, flowery in his language, and fond of composing original phrases, which, we regret, it is equally impossible for us to render in the English language.
The other men of importance were also, more or less, of a cultivated mind; some of them used to read translations from all languages, others again, delighted in the study of the authors of the country, or read the newspapers, whilst some even did not read at all Some individuals were also difficult of comprehension, and could not understand you unless you took the trouble, as the phrase goes, to dot their i's for them; some again were as dull as a blockhead—if we may use the expression; they would continue to stick to their prejudices and remain lying on their backs like a log of wood; it was perfectly useless to try to lift them up; they would listen to no persuasions.
As regards their general bodily appearance, it is already well-known to our readers that they were of an imposing countenance, solid and sober-minded men, there was not the least frivolity about them. They possessed all those qualities, which caused their wives in moments of tender conversation, and tête-à-têtes to address them pretty nearly in the following language: "Dear mullet; my little fat man; little fairy; pretty blacky; kiki; joujou," and so forth. And in general they were all good-natured and kind-hearted men, pervaded with a due sense of hospitality—a great and favourable characteristic trait of the whole nation. For if even a stranger had had an opportunity to taste what they call their "salt and bread," or sat with them at a game of whist, he became at once as it were dear to them.
And so much the more was it the case with Tchichikoff, who, thanks to his agreeable and gentlemanly manners, had completely ingratiated himself in their esteem and good opinion, because he had the secret gift of pleasing, whenever it was to his advantage convenient to do so. They had taken so great an affection for him, that he could not possibly imagine a scheme or pretence under which he could leave the town; all he now heard daily was, "One little week more, only one more; you must stay and live with us, our dear Pavel Ivanovitch!" in a word he was treated in the most affectionate manner, and nursed, as the phrase goes, like a child in baby linen. But incomparably remarkable was the impression (the direct road to madness) which Tchichikoff had produced upon the fair sex of Smolensk. To explain this extraordinary fact, only approximatively, it would be necessary to say a great deal of the fair ladies themselves, their society; and paint in glowing colours the qualities of their hearts. But here it is that the author feels seriously embarrassed, because the thought occurs to him that he is now writing to please the fair inhabitants of the British isles, and that he has no longer the right to be elaborate in the description of the moral and physical qualities of his own countrywomen. On the other hand, he still feels a great respect for the husbands of Smolensk, and as for a third reason—the third reason is that it is really difficult to divine, or dive into the depth of the female heart.
The ladies of Smolensk were—no, it is impossible to tell what; I feel a peculiar timidity overcoming me all of a sudden. In the ladies of Smolensk the most prominent features were—it is really strange, but my pen refuses to obey the hand, and seems as if loaded with lead. Be it so; the description of their character I will leave to one more worthy than myself; to one who knows how to paint in vivid colours and with a powerful brush, and reserve to myself, in this instance, the modest privilege of saying a few words on their personal appearance and manners; it is a very superficial glance.
The ladies of Smolensk then, were what is termed presentable, and in this respect they could be confidently placed as a model to all other ladies. As to their manners, observances of fashion, maintenance of etiquette, and great propriety in its finest shades, but especially in the due observance of the laws of fashion in its last particulars, they rivalled, nay, even surpassed, the court ladies of St. Petersburgh and Moscow. They dressed with great taste, drove about town in their own open carriages, made according to the last imported model from Vienna or London, with a seat behind in which a fat flunkey covered over with gold lace was rocking himself gallantly.
Visiting cards were as the French say de rigueur, no matter whether the name was written upon the deuce of diamonds or the ace of spades, to have them, was a sacred obligation. For the sake of a visiting card two lady friends and even near relatives, fell out for ever, because the one had omitted to send her card in return to the other, and thus found wanting in reciprocating civility. And, notwithstanding the earnest endeavours of their husbands and friends effect a reconciliation between them, it proved a total failure; and although many difficulties might be overcome in this world, yet this remained an impossibility, the reconciliation of two ladies, who fell out because the one of them committed a manque de towards her friend. Thus then these two ladies continued to live in mutual disaffection.
As regards the privilege of occupying the first seat at concerts and evening parties, there happened also numerous differences and serious scenes; inspiring their husbands, sometimes, with an extraordinary sense of chivalrous and magnanimous courage in supporting and defending their rights and claims. Duels of course were not fought between them, because they were all knighted men and imperial employés, but instead, the one tried to annoy the other as much as possible, which in many instances is really worse than fighting a duel on the most disadvantageous terms.
As regards the morale of the ladies of Smolensk, they used to be, strictly speaking, extremely severe and rigid—full of an aristocratic indignation at the lightest offence, and the least flaw or weakness in that respect was condemned and punished with the utmost rigour. And if even, something or another did happen (which we will by no means call improper) among them, they always agreed to come to some secret compromise, so that it remained impossible ever to ascertain the real cause of the scandal, in fact, they followed the wise maxim of the great Napoleon, who, on such occasions used to say: "il faut toujours laver le linge sale en famille!"
As for the present Emperor of the French, it is impossible for us to tell positively, what his opinion on such a subject would be, though we are led to believe that he is a man of considerable experience in family matters; as for the kind husbands of the ladies in Smolensk, their honour continued to remain perfectly intact, and the decorum was preserved in every instance of that kind; for they were so well prepared to meet an attack, that if even they happened to see something or another, or bear of it, they were always found ready with a dignified reply or a short proverb like the following: "whose business I ask you is it, if the cousin and her cousin chose to sit in the pit?"
We must also not forget to add, that the ladies of Smolensk, were distinguished for their elegant expressions, and in that respect resembled and reminded us of the ladies at the imperial courts of Moscow and St. Petersburg; they were extremely careful and graceful in their words and actions. They never used to say, I have snuffed my nose, I am perspiring, I spat; but they expressed themselves in nearly the following terms: I have availed myself of my pocket handkerchief, dancing and walking excites me. It was also quite impossible for them to say; this glass or plate is not clean, nor would they use any term approximating to it, but instead, expressed themselves, perhaps, thus: this glass or plate has been considerably neglected, or something very much like it.
And in order to render the Russian language more aristocratic (for in Russia one likes to ape aristocracy if not autocracy), they had the habit of omitting one half of the words in their mother tongue, and replacing them cleverly with French phraseology, which language, rich as it is in homonymes, allows of expressions much stronger and more equivocal than those we have mentioned above, completely rejected as vulgar from the memory of the fair ladies of Smolensk.
And this is nearly all we have to say about the ladies of Smolensk, speaking superficially. But if we were to glance deeper into the character of these ladies, we should, of course, discover many more of their interesting propensities; however, we will not venture to do so, because it is very dangerous to look to any depth into the heart of a lady. And thus limiting ourselves to superficial glances, we will again proceed in our observations.
Up to this time, the ladies in general had taken no very particular notice of Tchichikoff, they had rendered him, however, full justice by acknowledging him to be a perfect gentleman, and a man of extremely agreeable manners; but from the moment that the report was spread about, that he was a millionaire, they discovered in him many more hitherto hidden qualities. However, the ladies themselves were not at all selfish; the fault was lying in the word millionaire, not in the millionaire himself, but positively in the word; because in the only sound of the word, or in the bag of money, is concluded a something that acts most powerfully upon the honest as well as the dishonest man, in fine, it produced an effect upon everybody.
The wealthy man enjoys the privilege of looking with leisure upon the most creeping business, the most barefaced civility, based upon no principle whatever; many men of such character know perfectly well that they will receive nothing for degrading themselves thus far, and even that they have no right, whatever, to accept anything for doing so, but yet they will persist and rush forward to meet him, to smile when he approaches, to take off their hat when he passes, and do everything to obtain an invitation to any dinner party where they may be sure of dining with the millionaire.
We will not venture to affirm that this servile inclination was perceptible in the ladies; however, in many of the drawing-rooms in town, the observation went the round, that Tchichikoff was certainly far from being handsome, but yet, that he was such as a man ought to be, and were he to be a little stouter or a little thinner, he would have certainly not have been even good looking. At the same time, it was also whispered about and rather to the disadvantage of slender men, that they resembled more a tooth-pick than a man.
In the toilettes of the ladies, many additions became about this time visible. The bazaars were crowded with visitors and purchasers nearly to suffocation; promenades were even brought into fashion, and the number of carriages driving about were nearly innumerable. The tradesmen seemed bewildered, when they saw that several pieces of silk stuff which they had purchased in the capital, and which they had not been able to sell till now, because they were pronounced too costly, found suddenly a ready sale, and even occasioned disputes as to who should have the preference in their acquisition.
During the promenade, one of the fair ladies was observed to have something like a large ring adjusted in her dress, which would have been wide enough to cover the cupola of a church, and which very much embarrassed her in the progress of her walk, so much so indeed that the police-officer on duty ordered the common people to leave the parapet, so as not to be in the way of her Excellency.
Tchichikoff even in spite of his usual equanimity could not forbear to remark at last such unusual attention. One fine evening when he returned home to his hotel, he was surprised to find a neatly-sealed letter upon his table; where it came from, and who had brought it, it was impossible for him to ascertain; even the acute head-waiter could tell him no more but that some person brought it who had received instructions not to tell that it came from a lady.
The letter began in the following positive style: "No, I feel that I must write to thee!" Then something was said about a secret sympathy of souls; this opinion was affirmed by numerous little dots, which occupied more than half a line; then followed some thoughts very remarkable for their truthfulness, so much so, that we consider it indispensable to copy them.
"What is our life? A wilderness, covered with sorrows. What is the world? A crowd of insensible beings." After this much, the fair writer observed that she, was bathing with her tears the last lines of a tender mother, who had ceased to live for her these last twenty-five years. Tchichikoff was then invited to leave town for the solitude, because it was impossible to breathe freely in a place where the heart remained incarcerated by the chains of society. The latter part of the letter expressed real despair, and concluded in the following verse:
Two turtle-doves will show
Thee,—my cold grave,
Their mournful cooing will tell
Thee,—that I died in tears.
This is as nearly as we can give it in English, though we must confess that the original was also deficient in poetical composition. However, it was to the purpose, and quite in the spirit of the day. There was no signature at the bottom—no Christian name, nor family name, nor was the month or date mentioned. However, there was a postscript—whoever is accustomed to receive letters from ladies is of course aware they are in the habit never to post their epistles without the addition of a P.S.; and as for my fair readers they know best why they never omit it. The postscript of the fair unknown to our hero went on to say that his own heart ought to tell him who she was, and that she would be at the Lord-Lieutenant's ball the next night, and that it was there that he should behold the original.
This epistle considerably excited and pre-occupied the mind of our hero. In this anonymous communication there was so much that was mysterious and provoked curiosity, that Tchichikoff could not resist reading it a second and then again a third time, and at last said, "I am really curious to know who the fair writer might be!" In a word, the affair, to judge from appearances, promised to become a serious one. For more than an hour after he continued to think of it; at last, stretching out his arms and leaning his head on one side, he exclaimed:
"I must confess the letter has been written very feelingly indeed."
Then, and as a matter of course, the letter was carefully folded up and placed in his writing-desk, close to an old play-bill and an invitation to a wedding, which he had kept there for these last seven years in the same apartment. Half an hour later he positively received an invitation to the ball of the Governor of Smolensk, in which there was nothing unusual, for at the seat of the provincial administration, where the Lord-Lieutenant resides, there are rejoicings and balls, else he could not depend upon the powerful support of the country nobility and gently.
From the instant he received the invitation to the ball all else was set aside, and he began immediately to devote all his attention to the preparations for the evening party; because there were now many inciting and pleasant reasons. And for such reasons, perhaps, was there since the creation of the world, never so much time employed in the preparations for an evening party. More than an hour was exclusively devoted to the examination of his face in a looking-glass. He attempted to execute a variety of expressions; at first he tried to assume an air of importance and propriety, then again a proud respectfulness, mingled with a smile, and again simply an air of respectfulness without a smile; a few bows and inclinations were addressed to the looking-glass, accompanied by indistinct sounds, in some instances very much resembling the French language, though Tchichikoff did not understand French at all.
He presented himself with numerous pleasant surprises, moved his eyebrows up and down, contracted his lips, and even seemed to smack his tongue; in a word, what does a person not do when alone, especially when under the impression that he is good-looking, and convinced that there is no indiscreet person to glimpse at him through the keyhole?
At last, he pinched slightly his chin, and said, "Oh, you little rogue," and then he began to dress. It was in the best of humours that he accomplished his evening toilette. Whilst putting on his braces, or tying his cravat, he began to scratch compliments with his feet, and bow forward with unusual grace, and though he was no dancer, he nevertheless executed an entrechat. This entrechat produced a slight but innocent effect; it shook the chest of drawers, and his hair-brush fell from the sofa.
The appearance of our hero at the ball of the Governor of Smolensk created considerable sensation. Every one present turned round to receive him, some even held their playing-cards in their hands, whilst others stopped short in the most interesting part of their conversation, they deserted all and everything to rush forward and greet our hero.
"Pavel Ivanovitch! Good Heavens! here is our Pavel Ivanovitch! Amiable Pavel Ivanovitch! Most worthy Pavel Ivanovitch! Pavel Ivanovitch my soul! Here you are at last, excellent Pavel Ivanovitch! Allow me to embrace you my dear Pavel Ivanovitch! Give him up to me, let me embrace him most passionately, my own dear Pavel Ivanovitch!"
Tchichikoff felt himself suddenly embraced on all sides, without the least chance of preventing it. He had not quite liberated himself from the affectionate embrace of the President, when he found himself already in the arms of the clever Commissioner of Police; the police-master passed him over to the hands of the Inspector of the Medical Institutions; the Inspector of Hospitals gave him up to the arms of the Imperial Contractor, the Contractor to the Architect.
The Lord-Lieutenant, who was standing at that moment and conversing with several ladies and presenting them with some bonbons, left them hurriedly to go and greet his guest, nearly crushing the favourite lap-dog of his lady; in a word, Tchichikoff spread joy and pleasure all around him. There was not a face present that did not express satisfaction, or at least reflect the general gratification that suddenly prevailed over the company assembled. Our hero returned thanks and compliments to every one individually, and felt unusually versatile and cheerful; bowed right and left, as was his habit, slightly inclining towards on side, but with perfect ease, so that he charmed everybody.