The Queen of Spades and other stories

ADY R

gan to think himself the cleverest fellow in the whole district. The neighbours who used to come to him upon a visit and bring their families and dogs took good care not to contradict him. His work-a-day dress was a short coat of velveteen; on holidays he wore a frock-coat of cloth from his own factory. His accounts took most of his time, and he read nothing but the Senatorial News. On the whole, though he was considered proud, he was[Pg 156] not disliked. The only person who could never get on with him was his ne

hat province to mortgage his property to the government-a process then generally believed to be one of great complexity and risk? Among his detractors Berestoff, a thorough hater of innovation, was the most severe. In

can't afford to ruin my land on the[Pg 157] English syste

commentaries of their own. The Anglo-maniac was as irritable as a journalist und

d a moustache. He was really a handsome fellow, and it would indeed have been a pity never to pinch his fine figure into a military uniform, and instead of displaying his broad shoulders on horseback to round them over an office desk. Ever foremost in the hunting-field, and a straight rider, it was quite clear, declared the n

g

N.

ina Petrovna

Alexeieff

ons develop early to a degree unknown to the busier beauties of our towns. For them the tinkling of a bell is an event, a drive into the nearest town an epoch, and a chance visit a long, sometimes an everlasting remembrance. At their oddities he may laugh who will, but superfic

ndemnation. Still as an ancien

hey had ever beheld; the first who ever spoke to them of vanished joys and blighted past. Besides, he wore a black ring

onversation among her young neighbours. She was just seventeen, with dark eyes lighting up her pretty face. An only, and consequently a spoilt child, full of life and mischief, she was the delight of her father, and the distra

stress, who was very fond of her, and had her as confidante

ch an important part in French tragedy

hile dressing

-day and vis

. Wh

e cook's namesday. He called

g

sters quarrel and the serv

you and not to your father. You have not quarrelled with yo

ei Berestoff. Come back a

hole day impatiently waiting for

rievna!" she said, as

I had a good look at him. We

ell me all

e started, I

I know! W

me for dinner; the room was quite full. There were the Zahar

s! And B

wife had the seat of honour; I sat next to her,

ome you are with these

g

three hours and it was a splendid dinner-party, blue, red and striped creams-then we

true? Is he

y say beautiful. Tall, stat

ale. Well, how did he strike you-

t into his head to join us at kiss-in-the-ring."

hink? When he caught any one he kissed her." "O

ng. I could scarcely get away from him.

en that he is in love

and Tania too, the steward's daughter, and at Pasha too.

g

and what do the ser

as only one fault: he is too fond of the girls. But I don't t

to see him," said

lk in that direction, or a ride, and you are sure to meet

, our fathers have quarrelled, so he and I could hardly set up a friend

sarafan, and set out boldly for Tugilovo. B

an. Next day she made her preparations. She went to the market for some coarse linen, some dark blue stuff, and some brass buttons, and

g

sed along, then she continued to nod her head like a mandarin. Next she addressed him in a peasant patois, simpering and shyly hiding her face behind her sleeve. Nastia gave the performance her ful

ied across the fields to the herdsman Trophi

for the herdsman; soon the sound of his horn drew near, and the village herd straggled past the Manor gates. After

r last instructions about Miss Jackson; then she went through the kitc

g

ting for their monarch. The clear sky, the fresh morning air, the dew, th

y the boundary of her father's property she slackened her pace. It was here she was to meet Alexis. H

Her buoyant spirits gradually gave place to meditation. She thought-but who shall truly

bark at her. Lisa cried out with fear, and at the same moment a voice exclaimed, "Tout beau Shogar,

m her fright, and instantly to

idity and shyness, "I am afraid of him, he[Pg 165] se

steadily at the young peasant. "I will escort you, if y

d Lisa. "A freeman can do as he

o you co

lacksmith, and I am looking for mushrooms." She was ca

in; are you f

alet" (he wished to equalize their ran

id. "I am not a fool. I see

kes you

ryth

ill

like a servant. You speak differently. Y

try girls, he tried to kiss her, but Lisa[Pg 166] jumped aside, and suddenly assumed so dist

nds," she said, with dignit

a laugh. "Can it be my little friend Nastia, your m

ave seen and heard more than you think. Still, chattering here with you won't get me mushrooms. You go that way

your name

get her fingers free. "Let me go, b

all certainly call on your fat

had been talking here alone with the young barin, I should

must see

in some other da

g

he

ow, if y

u if I dared. To-morrow, then, at

rig

not play

N

ear

Friday, then,

hen she changed her dress, answering at random the impatient questions of her confidante, and went into the dining-room to find the cloth laid and breakfast ready. Mi

rd, but then Alexis, tired of waiting, might go to seek the blacksmiths daughter in the village and find the real Akulina-a stout, pockmarked girl-and so discover the hoax. Alarmed at this she determined to re-enact the part of Akulina. Alexis was enchanted. All day he thought about his new acquaintance and at night he dreamt of her. It was scarcely dawn when he was up and dressed. Without waiting even to load his gun he set out followed by the faithful Shogar, and ran to the meeting place. Half an hour passed in undeniable delay. At last he caught a glimpse of a blue sarafan among the bushes and rushed to meet dear Akulina. She smiled to see his eagerness; but he saw traces of anxiety and melancholy on her face. He asked he

no other meetings with me but

the Holy Friday when she

ou to swear. You

ndered talking in the

is t

a, could not forget the social distance that was between them, while Lisa, knowing the enmity between their fathers, dared not count on their becoming reconciled. Besides, her vanity was stimulated by the vague romantic hope of at last seeing the lord of Tugilovo at the feet of the daughter of a village blacksmith. Suddenly something happened which came near to change the course of their true love. One of those cold bright mornings so common in our Russian autumns Ivan Berestoff came a-riding. For all emergencies he brought with him six pointers and a dozen beaters. That same morning Grigori Muromsky, tempted by the fine weather, saddled his English mare and came trotting through his agricultural estates. Nearing the[Pg 171] wood he came upon his neighbour proudly seated in the saddle wearing his fur-lined overcoat. Ivan Berestoff was waiting for the hare which the beaters were driving with discordant noises out of the brushwood. If Muromsky could have foreseen this meeting he would have avoided it. But finding himself suddenly within pistol-shot there was no escape. Like a cultivated European g

im to ride back. Berestoff accompanied him to the outer gate, and before the leavetaking was over Muromsky Pad obtained from him a promise to come and bring Alexis to

et Per father

astonishment. "Why are you limping? Wh

never guess;"-and

d time to collect herself she heard that to-mo

estoffs, father and son! Dine with us to-morrow! No, pap

ecome so shy? Have you imbibed hereditary hatred

earth shall induce me

Nastia. Long did they discuss the coming visit. What will Alexis think on recognising in the cultivated young lady his Akulina? What opinion will he form as to her behaviour and her sense? On the

asked his daughter whether she stil

tion. However I may appear before them, whatever I may do, you must pro

onsent; do as you please, my black-eyed mischief."[Pg 174] With these

ade carriage, drove into the courtyard, and skirt

ed the steps. His son followed immediately on horseback, and the two

ng a tour of inspection of the garden and live stock be

e wasted on such a useless whim as this Anglo-mania

-maniac. He impatiently awaited the appearance of his hosts daughter, of whom he had often heard; for, t

, re-telling the stories of the mess-room,[Pg 175] while Alexis considered what attitude he should a

tions, but suddenly stopped and bit his lip. Lisa, his dark Lisa, was painted white up to her ears, and pencilled worse than Miss Jackson herself. She wore false fair ringlets, puffed out like a Louis XIV. wig; her sleeves à l'imbécille extended like the hoops of Madame de Pompadour. Her figure was laced in like a letter X, and all those of her mother's diamonds which had escaped the pawnbroker sparkled on her fingers, neck, and ears. Alexis could not discover

indignation shone through the artificial whiteness of her face. Flaming glances shot from her eyes at the young rogue, who, reserving all explanation for the future, pretended not to notice them. They sat down to table, Alexis continuing his performance as an absent-minded pensive man. Lisa was all affectation. She minced her words, drawled

The guests departed and Muromsky g

g

ite paint really becomes you? I do not wish to pry into the secrets of a lady's toil

nsider his suggestion, and ran off to propitiate the enraged Miss Jackson,

e visitors-such a blackamoor. She had not dared to as

ified, kissed Lisa, and in token of forgiveness presented her with a little pot

ill have guessed, Lisa hasten

s, sir?" she began to Alexis. "Wha

that he had no

is a

hy

g

to ask you if what

do the

our young lady;

she is a defor

ay so. Our young lady is so fair, s

oung ladies, and to appease her thoroughly, began describing

hough she may be ridiculous, yet b

yourself about. If you like I

arnest, shall

darling, we wil

ng the alphabet. Alexis wondered at her intelligence. At their next meeting she wished to learn to writ

g

et on, faster than by

orisms, taken from the story she had been reading. A week passed and they had begun a correspondence. Their post-office was the trunk of an old oak, and Nastia secretly played the part of postman. Thither Alexis would b

ny that he possessed many excellent qualities, among them a certain cleverness. Muromsky was related to Count Pronsky, a distinguished and influential man. The count might be very useful to Alexis, and Muromsky[Pg 180] (so thought Berestoff) would probably be glad to marry his daughter so well. Both the old men pondered all this so thoroughly that at last they broached the subject, confabu

Betty could not help falling in love with him. That i

That same evening he called his son into his stud

y lately, Alexis. Has the Hussar u

know you do not wish me to join the Huss

o force your inclinations.[Pg 181] I will not insist upon your enteri

?" exclaimed his

she is good enough fo

not think of ma

I have thought a

don't care about Lis

ards. You will get used to her,

uld not make

ut that. All you have to do is to

sh to marry,

my property, and not leave you a farthing! I will give you three days for ref

s was as obstinate as his father.[Pg 182] He went to his room and there reflected upon the limits of parenta

asant girl and working for a living came into his mind; and the more he thought of it, the

his impending ruin, and asking her to be his wife. He took the letter at once

to call on Muromsky and explain the situation. He m

e?" he asked reining up

omsky went out ea

ing, thoug

Miss Lis

s,

footman, Alexis leapt from his

g

r, dark Akulina, wearing no sarafan but a white morning frock, sat by the window reading his letter. So intent was she upon it that she did not hear him enter. Alexis coul

sieur! mais êtes vous fou?"

Akulina!" he repeat

this scene, knew not what to think. The

seem to have settled

e me the unnecessary

g

DJA

s by birth

h, means a bold fel

s. One night he and the Arnout Michailaki fell together upon a Bulgarian village. They set fire to it from both ends and went from

im several of his old followers. They knew little of the real object of the hetairi. But war presen

ssary for playing the part he had with such eager recklessness assumed. He did not know ho

he frontiers of Austria, whence he sent his curse to the people whom he now stigmatised as mutineers, cowards, and blackguards. These cowards and blackguards

by George Cantacuzène, of whom might be repe

ssian authorities to enter their quarters. The band was left without a command

every kind of rabble, with no notion of military art, retreating within[Pg 186] sight of fifteen thousand Turkish cavalry. The band kept close to the banks of the

everal bullets buzzed passed his ears. The old man got very angry and began to swear at Ohotsky, major of one of the infantry battalions. The major, not knowing what to do, ran towards the river, on the other side of which some insurgent cavalry were capering about. He shook his finger at them, on which they turned round and galloped along, with the wh

g

seek the protection of our garrison. They began to cross the river, Cantagoni and Sophianos being the last to quit the Turkish bank; Kirdjali, wounded the day before, was already lying in Russian quarters. Sophianos was killed. Cantagoni, a very stou

be seen in coffee-houses of half Turkish Bessarabia, with long pipes in their mouths sipping thick coffee out of small cups. Their figured Zouave jackets and red slippers with pointed toes were beginning to look shabby. But they still wore their tufted scull-cap on one side of the head; and

deliver up the brigand. The police made inquiries, and found that Kirdjali really was at Kishineff. They captured hi

not attempt to conceal the tr

a brigand, but to the Russians a guest. When Sophianos, after exhausting all his cartridges, came over here, he collected buttons from the uniforms, nails, watch-chains, and nobs from the daggers for the final

horities, not thinking themselves hound to look upon brigandage from its romantic side, and admitti

d unknown, but now occupying an important post, ga

orses, cried out and cracked his whip every moment, and his wretched little beasts went on at a sharp trot. If one of them began to lag, then he unharnessed it with terrific cursing and left it on the road, not caring what became of it. On the return journey he was sure to find them in th

s hanging down and with flapping slippers, Arnouts in ragged but picturesque costumes, stately Moldavian women with black-eyed chil

icers stepped into the street, followed b

al strength. He wore a variegated turban on the side of his head, and a broad sash round his slender waist. A dolman of thick, dark blue cloth, th

irdjali, to whom apparently the document referred. Kirdjali listened attentively. The official finished his reading, folded the paper, and called out sternly to the people, ordering them to make way for the karutsa to drive up. Then Kirdjali, turning towards him, said a few words in Moldavian; his voice tremble

side, the Moldavian cracked his

o you? inquired a young off

nd child, who live a short distance from Kilia, in a Bulgarian village;

r Kirdjali. For a long while I knew nothing of his fate. Many years

g

rdjali?" I asked. "Do you

e replied, and he t

put in confinement. The prisoner was guarded by seven Turks-common people, and at the bottom of their hearts brigands like himself. They respected him and listened wi

shall soon part from you, and I should like to leave you s

aki, we buried in the Steppes, not far from Jassy, a kettle with some coins in it. Seemingly, neithe

ld find the spot so vaguely[Pg 193] indicated. They thought and

m with them, started for the Steppes. Kirdjali led them, going in a straight line from one mound to another. They walked about

r daggers and began digging the earth, while three remaine

be long?" he inquire

they worked away till the perspi

grew im

decently. Why, I should have found it in two minut

, and began to cons

his hands, and give him a dagger. What can i

g

und his bands and

g rapidly, the guard assisting. Suddenly he thrust his dagger into one of them, leaving

ing Kirdjali armed wit

nding from him five thousand louis, and threatening, in the event of the money not being paid, to

fellow

g

F THE VILLAGE

a man of letters has always

ashion. They never read anything; and beyond an alphabet (bought for me),

ould gratify my curiosity. Nobody knew him personally. To all my questioning the reply was that Kurganoff was the author of the latest letter-writer, but that I[Pg 196] knew already. He was wrapped in darkness and mystery like some ancient demi-god. At times I doubted even his existence. His name was perhaps

arl Ivanovitch Meyer. There I stayed only some three months, because the sch

t I shall dilate upon it, apologizing beforehand

tient was I to revisit the scenes where I had passed the best years of my life, that I kept urging the driver to quicken speed with alternate promises of vodka and threats of chastisement. How much easie

oaxed the horses and waved his whip but at the same time tightened the reins. At last I caught

rches which I had seen planted near the palings had now grown into tall branching trees. The courtyard, once adorned

nhabited. A woman emerging from a servant's hut asked what I wanted. Hearing the master had arrived, she ran back into the hut, and soon I had a

g

quat upon the floor and run with such alacrity on errands were

ged." And they

father, how plain

bath. The cook, who in his long holiday had grown a beard, offered to cook my dinner or supper, for it was growing dark. The rooms hitherto occupied by my nurse and my late mot

eighbour N-- Domestic occupations were altogether[Pg 199] strange to me. The conversation of my nurse, whom I promoted to the rank of housekeeper, consisted of fifteen family anecdotes. I found them very interesting, but as she always related them in the same way she soon became for me another Niebuhr letter-wri

tremity it

o unattainable, that the idea of writing quite frightened me at first. Dare I hope ever to be numbered amongst writers, when my ardent wish even

ors and fell passionately in love with B--. She had played one Sunday with great artistic feeling as Eulalie in Hass und Reue (in English The Stranger.) In the morning, on my way from headquarters, I would call at a small confectioner's, drink a cup of chocolate, and read a literary journal. One day,

iter for some carelessness, drank half a bottle of

that was?" inqu

dintention ..

t at a run. When I had gone several steps I[Pg 201] felt myself stopped by some one, and looking back I found I had been noticed by an officer of the guards. I; ought not to have knocked against him on the pavement, but rather to have stopped and saluted. After this reprimand I was more careful.

odintention, whose excellent article I have had th

arter of an hour ago I passed him at the Police Bridge." In this way my respect for Russian letters

a thick copy book and resolved to fill it somehow. All kinds of poems (humble prose did not yet enter into my reckoning) were in turn[Pg 202] con

d it into a ballad, but the ballad hardly seemed to do. At last I had a happy thought. I began and succeeded in finishing an ode to a portrait of Rurik. Despite the inauspicious character of such a title, particularly for a young bard's first work, I yet felt that I had not been born a poet, and after this first attempt desisted. These essays in authorship gave me so great a taste for writing that

g

nclination of his passions often goes wron

oubt true enough

various times and tried to ornament the truth by a lively style and the flowers of my own imagination. Composing these tales little by little, I

thenticity, and narrate real and great events inst

and[Pg 204] to penetrate the occult meaning of a dead language-for me who could never master the Slavonian alphabet? Why not try a history on a smaller scale?-for instance, the history of our town! But even here how very numerous and insuperable seemed the obstacles-a journey to the town, a visit to the governor and the bishop, permission to examine the archives, the monastery, the cellars, and so on. The history of our town would have been easier; but it could interest neither the philosopher nor the artist, and afford bu

f green and of blue paper. It was a collection of old almanacks. My ardour was cooled by the

ted a full history of my native place for nearly a century, in chronological order, besides an exhaustive store of economical, statistical, meteorological, and other learned information. Thenceforth the study of these documents took up my time, for I perceived that from them a stately, instructive, and interesting history could be made. As I became sufficiently acquainted with these valuable notes, I began to search for new sources of information about the village of Gorohina, and I soon became astonished at the

urces whence I drew th

vered with an old-fashioned writing; much abbreviated. The manuscript is that of my grandfather;

e weather fine, first snow; hunted three hares. The remaining thirty-five parts were in various hands mostly commercial with or without abbreviations, usually profuse; disjointed; and incorrectly w

d used by the priests children for making kites. One of these had fallen in the middle of my yard. I picked it up? and was about to restore it to the children when I noticed that it was written on. From the first

ially indebted for much of this to Agrafena Tryphonovna, the mother o

by the former starosta on the mora

. Fabulous Times. T

no stewards, and the elders dealt fairly by[Pg 208] all. The inhabitants worked little and lived merrily. The shepherds as they watched their flocks wore boots. We must not be deceived by this charming picture. The notion of a golden age is common to all nations, and only proves that as people are never contented with the present, and derive from experience small hope for the future,

from an estate now only producing one tenth of its former revenue the full income of former times. Threats followed threats. The starosta read them out in common council. The elders declaimed

es. With the flaps of their coats turned up the madmen mocked the Jewish driver, shouting in doggrell rhyme, "Jew, Jew, eat a pig's ear." But how great was their astonishment (wrote the clerk) when the carriage stopped in the middle of the village and the occupant jumped out, and in an authoritative voice called for the starosta Tryphon. This officer was in the house of pleasure, whence two elders led him forth holding him under the arms. The stranger looked at him sternly, handed him a letter, and told him to read it at once. The starostas of Gorohina were in the habit of never reading anything themselves. The rural clerk Avdei was sent for. He was found asleep unde

nd the office hut, which served as a council ground. Their eyes were dim and red, their faces swollen; yawning and scratching their heads, they stared at the man with the ca

d by his side, bareheaded, with the s

e?" inquired

e?" repeated

ed them that he had received a letter from the master, and, directed the cle

icon-case, together with other memorandum of his authority over th

YPHON I

sants and make known to them their master's wishes; namely, that they are to obey my agent as they would myself, and attend to his orders without demur; otherwise h

ned) NIKO

12] yesterday's drink." There were no longer any fumes left in the head of any man of Gorohina. All were dumbfounded, hung their noses, and dispersed in fear to their own houses. The agent seized the reins of government, called for the list of peasants

Christian, I cared most fo

assigned them as workmen to the other peasants, who paid him for this a voluntary tax. The men given as bondsmen, on the other hand, possessed the right of redeeming themselves by paying, besides their deficit, a double annual tithe. All the communal obl

g

pay. In three years Gorohina was quite pauperised. Gorohina quieted down; the bazaar was empty, the songs of Arhip the Bald were unsung, one half the men were ploughing in the fields, the other half servi

OROHINA

emeieff, who likewise was ransomed by his father for sixty-eight rubles. The accursed one then wanted to handcuff Lech Tarassoff, but he escaped into the woods, to the regr