The Duel and Other Stories

l rooms. Both were silent. Laevsky lighted a candle, while Nadyezhda Fyodorovna sat do

eavy because he had lost control over himself and been rude to her. He chanced to feel in his pocket the letter which he had been int

ions," he thought. "I will give

he letter and

It conce

orovna read the letter, and it seemed to her as though the ceiling were falling and the walls were closing i

O Lord . . . give

began

called. "Iv

y had come in and was standing behind her

I shouldn't have laughed so horribly. . . . The men said horrid things to me. What a s

olently. In his misery he got up, stood in the middle of the room, g

he thought. "I must get a

Samoylenko. To avoid going near Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, he got out of the window into the garden, climbed over the garden fence and went along the street. It was dark. A steamer, judging by its lights,

bins . . ." thought Laevsky, and he en

Laevsky looked in at one of them, then in a

e you asleep?" he calle

ough and an

re? What t

xandr Davidit

ft light from the lamp, and Samoylenko's huge figure a

and breathing hard from sleepiness. "Wa

I'll get in at t

dow, and when he reached Samo

ou, I implore you. Understand me! My position is agonising. If it goes

What are you talk

t a c

ighed Samoylenko, ligh

Why, it's past

amoylenko. "You are my best, my only friend, Alexandr Daviditch. . . . You are my only hope. For God's sake, co

ng himself. "I was dropping asleep and I hear the whist

d I need two hundred for the journey. . . . I owe you about fou

hiskers in one hand, and standing

ed, musing. "Three hu

uch. I shall have to b

y would lend it. "Borrow it, and I'll be sure to pay you back. I will send it from Petersburg as soon as I get there. You

can have som

nt into the

ylenko, setting three bottles and a plate of pea

nexpected rush of joy. "I will send her the money afterwards and she will

le is from Navaridze's vineyard and this one is from Ahatulov's. . . . Try all three kinds

ted me, Alexandr Davi

l bet

re any

on't know. But you are a

cited, good-natured fac

t men like that ough

a weak, defenceless ch

and d

t up with your mother,"

I certain

while. When they had em

lenko

. You are both such splendid, clever fellow

ble man, but it's impossible for me to get on with him. No! Our natures are too different. I'm an indolent, weak, submiss

from corner to corner and went on,

e is awake, sitting like Stanley on a camp-stool, feeling himself the monarch of the desert and the master of these men. He goes on and on and on, his men groan and die, one after another, and he goes on and on, and in the end perishes himself, but still is monarch and ruler of the desert, since the cross upon his tomb can be seen by the caravans for thirty or forty miles over the

ying the ma

, does not care to know his comrades and other scientific men because he is first of all a despot and only secondly a zoologist. And you'll see he'll do something. He is already dreaming that when he comes back from his expedition he will purify our universities from intrigue and mediocrity, and will make the scientific men mind their p's and q's. Despotism is just as strong in science as in the army. And he is spending his second summer in this stinking l

aughed S

ed too, and d

He exerts himself for the improvement of the human race, and we are in his eyes only slaves, food for the cannon, beasts of burden; some he would destroy or stow away in Siberia, others he would break by discipline, would, like Araktcheev, force them to get up and go to bed to the sound of the drum; would appoint eunuchs to preserve our chastity and morality, would order them to fire at any one who steps out of the circle of our narrow conservative mor

fact-for all that, I have given nothing in exchange so far but lying, idleness, and cowardice. Till now I have deceived myself and other people; I have

om one end of the room to the

w passionately, with what anguish, I long for such a change. And I swear to you I'll be a man! I will! I don't know whether it is the wine that is spea

leep, brother,"

. Excuse me; I'

bout the furniture and wi

ou. . . . Kind and friendly words are bette

opped, and looked gu

ch," he said in a

t is

night with you,

y. . . .

fa, and went on talking to