Sanin was sitting bent up. He raised his head. 'I'm not at all bored,Maria Nikolaevna, and I am listening to you with curiosity. Only I ...confess ... I wonder why you say all this to me?'
Maria Nikolaevna edged a little away on the sofa.
'You wonder?... Are you slow to guess? Or so modest?'
Sanin lifted his head higher than before.
'I tell you all this,' Maria Nikolaevna continued in an unmoved tone,which did not, however, at all correspond with the expression of herface, 'because I like you very much; yes, don't be surprised, I'm notjoking; because since I have met you, it would be painful to me thatyou had a disagreeable recollection of me ... not disagreeable even,that I shouldn't mind, but untrue. That's why I have made you comehere, and am staying alone with you and talking to you so openly....Yes, yes, openly. I'm not telling a lie. And observe, DimitriPavlovitch, I know you're in love with another woman, that you'regoing to be married to her.... Do justice to my disinterestedness!Though indeed it's a good opportunity for you to say in your turn:_Cela ne tire pas a consequence_!'
She laughed, but her laugh suddenly broke off, and she stayedmotionless, as though her own words had suddenly struck her, and inher eyes, usually so gay and bold, there was a gleam of something liketimidity, even like sadness.
'Snake! ah, she's a snake!' Sanin was thinking meanwhile; 'but what alovely snake!'
'Give me my opera-glass,' Maria Nikolaevna said suddenly. 'I want tosee whether this _jeune premiere_ really is so ugly. Upon my word, onemight fancy the government appointed her in the interests of morality,so that the young men might not lose their heads over her.'
Sanin handed her the opera-glass, and as she took it from him,swiftly, but hardly audibly, she snatched his hand in both of hers.
'Please don't be serious,' she whispered with a smile. 'Do you knowwhat, no one can put fetters on me, but then you see I put no fetterson others. I love freedom, and I don't acknowledge duties--not onlyfor myself. Now move to one side a little, and let us listen to theplay.'
Maria Nikolaevna turned her opera-glass upon the stage, and Saninproceeded to look in the same direction, sitting beside her in thehalf dark of the box, and involuntarily drinking in the warmth andfragrance of her luxurious body, and as involuntarily turning overand over in his head all she had said during the evening--especiallyduring the last minutes.
XL
The play lasted over an hour longer, but Maria Nikolaevna and Saninsoon gave up looking at the stage. A conversation sprang up betweenthem again, and went on the same lines as before; only this time Saninwas less silent. Inwardly he was angry with himself and with MariaNikolaevna; he tried to prove to her all the inconsistency of her'theory,' as though she cared for theories! He began arguing with her,at which she was secretly rejoiced; if a man argues, it means that heis giving in or will give in. He had taken the bait, was giving way,had left off keeping shyly aloof! She retorted, laughed, agreed, museddreamily, attacked him ... and meanwhile his face and her face wereclose together, his eyes no longer avoided her eyes.... Those eyesof hers seemed to ramble, seemed to hover over his features, and hesmiled in response to them--a smile of civility, but still a smile.It was so much gained for her that he had gone off into abstractions,that he was discoursing upon truth in personal relations, uponduty, the sacredness of love and marriage.... It is well known thatthese abstract propositions serve admirably as a beginning ... as astarting-point....
People who knew Maria Nikolaevna well used to maintain that when herstrong and vigorous personality showed signs of something soft andmodest, something almost of maidenly shamefacedness, though onewondered where she could have got it from ... then ... then, thingswere taking a dangerous turn.
Things had apparently taken such a turn for Sanin.... He would havefelt contempt for himself, if he could have succeeded in concentratinghis attention for one instant; but he had not time to concentrate hismind nor to despise himself.
She wasted no time. And it all came from his being so verygood-looking! One can but exclaim, No man knows what may be his makingor his undoing!
The play was over. Maria Nikolaevna asked Sanin to put on her shawland did not stir, while he wrapped the soft fabric round her reallyqueenly shoulders. Then she took his arm, went out into the corridor,and almost cried out aloud. At the very door of the box Doenhof sprangup like some apparition while behind his back she got a glimpse ofthe figure of the Wiesbaden critic. The 'literary man's' oily face waspositively radiant with malignancy.
'Is it your wish, madam, that I find you your carriage?' saidthe young officer addressing Maria Nikolaevna with a quiver ofill-disguised fury in his voice.
'No, thank you,' she answered ... 'my man will find it. Stop!' sheadded in an imperious whisper, and rapidly withdrew drawing Saninalong with her.
'Go to the devil! Why are you staring at me?' Doenhof roared suddenlyat the literary man. He had to vent his feelings upon some one!
'_Sehr gut! sehr gut!_' muttered the literary man, and shuffled off.
Maria Nikolaevna's footman, waiting for her in the entrance, found hercarriage in no time. She quickly took her seat in it; Sanin leapt inafter her. The doors were slammed to, and Maria Nikolaevna exploded ina burst of laughter.
'What are you laughing at?' Sanin inquired.
'Oh, excuse me, please ... but it struck me: what if Doenhof were tohave another duel with you ... on my account.... wouldn't that bewonderful?'
'Are you very great friends with him?' Sanin asked.
'With him? that boy? He's one of my followers. You needn't troubleyourself about him!'
'Oh, I'm not troubling myself at all.'
Maria Nikolaevna sighed. 'Ah, I know you're not. But listen, do youknow what, you're such a darling, you mustn't refuse me one lastrequest. Remember in three days' time I am going to Paris, and you arereturning to Frankfort.... Shall we ever meet again?'
'What is this request?'
'You can ride, of course?'
'Yes.'
'Well, then, to-morrow morning I'll take you with me, and we'll go aride together out of the town. We'll have splendid horses. Then we'llcome home, wind up our business, and amen! Don't be surprised, don'ttell me it's a caprice, and I'm a madcap--all that's very likely--butsimply say, I consent.'
Maria Nikolaevna turned her face towards him. It was dark in thecarriage, but her eyes glittered even in the darkness.
'Very well, I consent,' said Sanin with a sigh.
'Ah! You sighed!' Maria Nikolaevna mimicked him. 'That means to say,as you've begun, you must go on to the bitter end. But no, no....You're charming, you're good, and I'll keep my promise. Here's myhand, without a glove on it, the right one, for business. Take it, andhave faith in its pressure. What sort of a woman I am, I don't know;but I'm an honest fellow, and one can do business with me.'
Sanin, without knowing very well what he was doing, lifted the hand tohis lips. Maria Nikolaevna softly took it, and was suddenly still, anddid not speak again till the carriage stopped.
She began getting out.... What was it? Sanin's fancy? or did he reallyfeel on his cheek a swift burning kiss?
'Till to-morrow!' whispered Maria Nikolaevna on the steps, in thelight of the four tapers of a candelabrum, held up on her appearanceby the gold-laced door-keeper. She kept her eyes cast down. 'Tillto-morrow!'
When he got back to his room, Sanin found on the table a letter fromGemma. He felt a momentary dismay, and at once made haste to rejoiceover it to disguise his dismay from himself. It consisted of a fewlines. She was delighted at the 'successful opening of negotiations,'advised him to be patient, and added that all at home were well, andwere already rejoicing at the prospect of seeing him back again. Saninfelt the letter rather stiff, he took pen and paper, however ... andthrew it all aside again. 'Why write? I shall be back myself to-morrow... it's high time!'
He went to bed immediately, and tried to get to sleep as quickly aspossible. If he had stayed up and remained on his legs, he wouldcertainly have begun thinkin
g about Gemma, and he was for some reason... ashamed to think of her. His conscience was stirring within him.But he consoled himself with the reflection that to-morrow it wouldall be over for ever, and he would take leave for good of thisfeather-brained lady, and would forget all this rotten idiocy!...
Weak people in their mental colloquies, eagerly make use of strongexpressions.
_Et puis ... cela ne tire pas a consequence!_
XLI
Such were Sanin's thoughts, as he went to bed; but what he thoughtnext morning when Maria Nikolaevna knocked impatiently at his doorwith the coral handle of her riding-whip, when he saw her in thedoorway, with the train of a dark-blue riding habit over her arm, witha man's small hat on her thickly coiled curls, with a veil thrownback over her shoulder, with a smile of invitation on her lips, inher eyes, over all her face--what he thought then--history does notrecord.
'Well? are you ready?' rang out a joyous voice.
Sanin buttoned his coat, and took his hat in silence. Maria Nikolaevnaflung him a bright look, nodded to him, and ran swiftly down thestaircase. And he ran after her.
The horses were already waiting in the street at the steps. Therewere three of them, a golden chestnut thorough-bred mare, with athin-lipped mouth, that showed the teeth, with black prominent eyes,and legs like a stag's, rather thin but beautifully shaped, and fullof fire and spirit, for Maria Nikolaevna; a big, powerful, ratherthick-set horse, raven black all over, for Sanin; the third horse wasdestined for the groom. Maria Nikolaevna leaped adroitly on to hermare, who stamped and wheeled round, lifting her tail, and sinkingon to her haunches. But Maria Nikolaevna, who was a first-ratehorse-woman, reined her in; they had to take leave of Polozov, who inhis inevitable fez and in an open dressing-gown, came out on to thebalcony, and from there waved a _batiste_ handkerchief, without thefaintest smile, rather a frown, in fact, on his face. Sanin toomounted his horse; Maria Nikolaevna saluted Polozov with her whip,then gave her mare a lash with it on her arched and flat neck. Themare reared on her hind legs, made a dash forward, moving with a smartand shortened step, quivering in every sinew, biting the air andsnorting abruptly. Sanin rode behind, and looked at Maria Nikolaevna;her slender supple figure, moulded by close-fitting but easy stays,swayed to and fro with self-confident grace and skill. She turned herhead and beckoned him with her eyes alone. He came alongside of her.
'See now, how delightful it is,' she said. 'I tell you at the last,before parting, you are charming, and you shan't regret it.'
As she uttered those last words, she nodded her head several times asif to confirm them and make him feel their full weight.
She seemed so happy that Sanin was simply astonished; her face evenwore at times that sedate expression which children sometimes havewhen they are very ... very much pleased.
They rode at a walking pace for the short distance to the city walls,but then started off at a vigorous gallop along the high road. It wasmagnificent, real summer weather; the wind blew in their faces, andsang and whistled sweetly in their ears. They felt very happy; thesense of youth, health and life, of free eager onward motion, gainedpossession of both; it grew stronger every instant.
Maria Nikolaevna reined in her mare, and again went at a walking pace;Sanin followed her example.
'This,' she began with a deep blissful sigh, 'this now is the onlything worth living for. When you succeed in doing what you want to,what seemed impossible--come, enjoy it, heart and soul, to the lastdrop!' She passed her hand across her throat. 'And how good and kindone feels oneself then! I now, at this moment ... how good I feel!I feel as if I could embrace the whole world! No, not the wholeworld.... That man now I couldn't.' She pointed with her whip at apoorly dressed old man who was stealing along on one side. 'But Iam ready to make him happy. Here, take this,' she shouted loudly inGerman, and she flung a net purse at his feet. The heavy little bag(leather purses were not thought of at that time) fell with a ringon to the road. The old man was astounded, stood still, while MariaNikolaevna chuckled, and put her mare into a gallop.
'Do you enjoy riding so much?' Sanin asked, as he overtook her.
Maria Nikolaevna reined her mare in once more: only in this way couldshe bring her to a stop.
'I only wanted to get away from thanks. If any one thanks me, hespoils my pleasure. You see I didn't do that for his sake, but for myown. How dare he thank me? I didn't hear what you asked me.'
'I asked ... I wanted to know what makes you so happy to-day.'
'Do you know what,' said Maria Nikolaevna; either she had again notheard Sanin's question, or she did not consider it necessary to answerit. 'I'm awfully sick of that groom, who sticks up there behind us,and most likely does nothing but wonder when we gentlefolks are goinghome again. How shall we get rid of him?' She hastily pulled a littlepocket-book out of her pocket. 'Send him back to the town with a note?No ... that won't do. Ah! I have it! What's that in front of us? Isn'tit an inn?'
Sanin looked in the direction she pointed. 'Yes, I believe it is aninn.'
'Well, that's first-rate. I'll tell him to stop at that inn and drinkbeer till we come back.'
'But what will he think?'
'What does it matter to us? Besides, he won't think at all; he'lldrink beer--that's all. Come, Sanin (it was the first time she hadused his surname alone), on, gallop!'
When they reached the inn, Maria Nikolaevna called the groom upand told him what she wished of him. The groom, a man of Englishextraction and English temperament, raised his hand to the beak of hiscap without a word, jumped off his horse, and took him by the bridle.
'Well, now we are free as the birds of the air!' cried MariaNikolaevna. 'Where shall we go. North, south, east, or west? Look--I'mlike the Hungarian king at his coronation (she pointed her whip ineach direction in turn). All is ours! No, do you know what: see, thoseglorious mountains--and that forest! Let's go there, to the mountains,to the mountains!'
'_In die Berge wo die Freiheit thront!_'
She turned off the high-road and galloped along a narrow untroddentrack, which certainly seemed to lead straight to the hills. Saningalloped after her.
XLII
This track soon changed into a tiny footpath, and at last disappearedaltogether, and was crossed by a stream. Sanin counselled turningback, but Maria Nikolaevna said, 'No! I want to get to the mountains!Let's go straight, as the birds fly,' and she made her mare leap thestream. Sanin leaped it too. Beyond the stream began a wide meadow,at first dry, then wet, and at last quite boggy; the water oozed upeverywhere, and stood in pools in some places. Maria Nikolaevna rodeher mare straight through these pools on purpose, laughed, and said,'Let's be naughty children.'
'Do you know,' she asked Sanin, 'what is meant by pool-hunting?'
'Yes,' answered Sanin.
'I had an uncle a huntsman,' she went on.
'I used to go out hunting with him--in the spring. It was delicious!Here we are now, on the pools with you. Only, I see, you're a Russian,and yet mean to marry an Italian. Well, that's your sorrow. What'sthat? A stream again! Gee up!'
The horse took the leap, but Maria Nikolaevna's hat fell off her head,and her curls tumbled loose over her shoulders. Sanin was just goingto get off his horse to pick up the hat, but she shouted to him,'Don't touch it, I'll get it myself,' bent low down from the saddle,hooked the handle of her whip into the veil, and actually did get thehat. She put it on her head, but did not fasten up her hair, and againdarted off, positively holloaing. Sanin dashed along beside her, byher side leaped trenches, fences, brooks, fell in and scrambled out,flew down hill, flew up hill, and kept watching her face. What a faceit was! It was all, as it were, wide open: wide-open eyes, eager,bright, and wild; lips, nostrils, open too, and breathing eagerly; shelooked straight before her, and it seemed as though that soul longedto master everything it saw, the earth, the sky, the sun, the airitself; and would complain of one thing only--that dangers were sofew, and all she could overcome. 'Sanin!' she cried, 'why, this islike Buerger's Lenore! Only you're not dead--eh? N
ot dead ... I amalive!' She let her force and daring have full fling. It seemed not anAmazon on a galloping horse, but a young female centaur at full speed,half-beast and half-god, and the sober, well-bred country seemedastounded, as it was trampled underfoot in her wild riot!
Maria Nikolaevna at last drew up her foaming and bespattered mare; shewas staggering under her, and Sanin's powerful but heavy horse wasgasping for breath.
'Well, do you like it?' Maria Nikolaevna asked in a sort of exquisitewhisper.
'I like it!' Sanin echoed back ecstatically. And his blood was onfire.
'This isn't all, wait a bit.' She held out her hand. Her glove wastorn across.
'I told you I would lead you to the forest, to the mountains.... Herethey are, the mountains!' The mountains, covered with tall forest,rose about two hundred feet from the place they had reached in theirwild ride. 'Look, here is the road; let us turn into it--and forwards.Only at a walk. We must let our horses get their breath.'
They rode on. With one vigorous sweep of her arm Maria Nikolaevnaflung back her hair. Then she looked at her gloves and took them off.'My hands will smell of leather,' she said, 'you won't mind that, eh?'... Maria Nikolaevna smiled, and Sanin smiled too. Their mad galloptogether seemed to have finally brought them together and made themfriends.