A Hero of Our Time

reme end of the town, the highest part, at the foot of Mount Mashuk:

ersed storm," 25 and northward rises Mashuk, like a shaggy Persian cap, shutting in the whole of that quarter of the horizon. Eastward the outlook is more cheery: down below are displayed the varied hues of the brand-new, spotlessly clean, little town, with its murmuring, health-giving springs and its babbling, many-tongued throng. Yonder, further away, the mountains tower up in an amphitheatre, ever bluer and mistier; a

Elizaveta spring-I am told that the whole society o

steppes-as could be guessed at once from the threadbare, old-fashioned frock-coats of the husbands and the exquisite attire of the wives and daughters. Evidently they already had all the young men of the wateri

hey have grown accustomed in the Caucasus to meeting a fervid heart beneath a numbered button and a cultured intellect beneath a white forage-cap. These ladies are very char

s I subsequently learned, compose a class apart amongst those who place their hopes in the medicinal waters. T

es. The officials wear bright blue cravats; the military men have ruffs sticking out above their collars. They affect a profo

mbler of water finished, were walking with rapid steps to and fro about the square. There were two or three pretty faces amongst them. Beneath the avenues of the vines with which the slope of Mashuk is covered, occasional glimpses could be caught of the gay-coloured hat of a lover of solitude for two-for beside that hat I

leaning against the corner of a little house, I began to examine the pic

ave you been

nce in the active service detachment. He had been wounded in the f

speaks rapidly and affectedly; he is one of those people who have a high-sounding phrase ready for every occasion in life, who remain untouched by simple beauty, and who drape themselves majestically in extraordinary sentiments, exalted passions and exceptional sufferings. To produce an effect is their delight; they have an almost insensate fondness for romantic provincial ladies. When old age approaches they become either peaceful landed-gentry or drunkards-sometimes both. Frequently they have many goo

s so often endeavoured to convince others that he is a being created not for this world and doomed to certain mysterious sufferings, that he has almost convinced himself that such he is in reality. Hence the pride with which he wears his thick soldier's cloak. I have seen through him, and he dislikes

ome time or other we shall come into collision upo

some pretty neighbour that he was going away, not so much for the simple purpose of serving in the army as of seeking death, because... and hereupon, I am sure, he covered his eyes

nduced him to enter the K--regiment must remai

is charming and entertaining enough. I am always interested to see hi

question him about the personages of note and as

healthy people! There are ladies who entertain, but there is no great amusement to be obtained from them. They play whist, they dress badly and speak French dreadfully! The only Moscow people h

ous. The second lady was wearing a high-necked dress of pearl-grey, and a light silk kerchief was wound round her supple neck. Puce-coloured boots clasped her slim little ankle so charmingly, that even those uninitiated into the mysteries of beauty would infallibly have sighed, i

i with her daughter Mary, as she calls her after the

know her na

quaintance. These haughty aristocrats look upon us army men just as they would upon savages. What c

is the gentleman who is just going up to th

hat immense gold chain coiling across his skyblue waistcoat. And what a thick cane he has!

red against the

ve cause

rea

re. Grushnitski succeeded in assuming a dramatic pose with the aid

pas les mepriser, car autrement la v

nd curious glance. Her expression was quite indefinite, but it was not cont

ower and upper lashes are so long that the sunbeams are not reflected in her pupils. I love those eyes without a glitter, they are so soft that they appear to caress you. Howev

just as you might of an English ho

je meprise les femmes, pour ne pas les aimer, car a

regain my breath under its shade, and by so doing I was afforded the opportunity of witnessing a rather interesting scene. This is the position in which the dramatis personae were disposed: Princess Ligovski and the Moscow dandy were sitting on a bench in the

d and made strenuous efforts to stoop in order to pick it up; but his injured foot prevented him. Poor fellow! How he tried all

w the whole scen

Grushnitski had opened his mouth to thank her she was a long way off. A moment after, she came out of the gallery with her mother and the dandy, but, in passing by Grushnitski, she assumed a most decorous and serious air. She did not even turn round, she did not even observe the passionate gaze which he kept fixed upon

he poor, passionate cad

ing my hand vigorously. "She

with an air of th

not see

he same thing-and quicker too, in the hope of receiving a tip. It is quite easy, however, to unde

at that moment when her soul was shining in

N

atic temperament would have turned me into an impassioned visionary. I confess, too, that an unpleasant but familiar sensation was coursing lightly through my heart at that moment. It was-envy. I say "envy" boldly, because I am accustomed to acknowledge everything to myself. It would be hard to find a young man who, if his idle fanc

rushnitski, plucking me by the arm, cast upon her one of those gloomily tender glances which have so little effect upon women. I directed my lorgnette at her, and observed that she sm