The Precipice Part 50

"Let me go! Let me go! I shall fall."

"Away from here," he cried, loosening his grasp and drawing a deep breath.

Like a madman he ran across the garden and the flower garden into the yard, where Egorka was was.h.i.+ng his hands and face at the spring.

"Bring my trunk," he cried. "I am going to St. Petersburg in the morning." He ran water over his hands and washed his face and eyes before he turned to go to his room.

He could not stay within the four walls of his chamber. He went out again and again, unprotected against the cold, to look at Vera's window.

It was hardly possible to see ten paces ahead in the darkness. He went to the acacia arbour to watch for Vera's return, and was furious because he could not conceal himself there, now that the leaves had fallen. He sat there in torture until morning dawned, not from pa.s.sion, which had been drowned in that night's experiences. What pa.s.sion would stand such a shock as this? But he had an unconquerable desire to look Vera in the face, this new Vera, and with one glance of scorn to show her the shame, the affront she had put on him, on their aunt, on the whole household, on their society, on womanhood itself. He awaited her return in a fever of impatience. Suddenly he sprang up with an evil look of triumph on his face.

"Fate has given me the idea," he thought. He found the gates still locked, but there was a lamp before the ikon in Savili's room, and he ordered him to let him out and to leave the gates unlocked. He took from his room the bouquet holder and hastened to the orangery to the gardener.

He had to wait a long time before it opened. The light grew stronger.

When he looked over at the trees in the orangery, an evil smile again crossed his face. The gardener was arranging Marfinka's bouquet.

"I want another bouquet," said Raisky unsteadily.

"One like this?"

"No, only orange blossoms," he whispered, turning paler as he spoke.

"Right, Sir," said the gardener, recalling that one of Tatiana Markovna's young ladies was betrothed.

"I am thirsty," said Raisky. "Give me a gla.s.s of water."

He drank the water greedily, and hurried the gardener on. When the second bouquet was ready he paid lavishly.

He returned to the house cautiously, carrying the two bouquets. As he did not know whether Vera had returned in his absence, he had Marina called, and sent her to see if her mistress was at home or had already gone out walking. On hearing she was out he ordered Marfinka's bouquet to be put on Vera's table and the window to be opened. Then he dismissed Marina, and returned to the acacia arbour. Pa.s.sion and jealousy set loose raged unchecked, and when pity raised her head she was quenched by the torturing, overmastering feeling of outrage. He suppressed the low voice of sympathy, and his better self was silent. He was shuddering, conscious that poison flowed in his veins, the poison of lies and deception.

"I must either shoot this dog Mark, or myself," he thought.

He held the bouquet of orange-blossoms in his two hands, like a sacred thing, and drank in its beauty with a wild delight. Then he fixed his eyes on the dark avenue, but she did not come.

Broad daylight came, a fine rain began to fall and made the paths sodden.

At last Vera appeared in the distance. His heart beat faster, and his knees trembled so that he had to steady himself by the bench to keep from falling.

She came slowly nearer, with her bowed head wrapped in a dark mantilla, held in place over her breast by her pale hands, and walked into the porch without seeing him. Raisky sprang from his place of observation, and hid himself under her window.

She entered her room in a dream, without noticing that her clothes which she had flung on the floor when she went out had been put back again, and without observing the bouquet on the table or the opened window.

Mechanically she threw aside her mantilla, and changed her muddy shoes for satin slippers; then she sank down on the divan, and closed her eyes.

After a brief minute she was awakened from her dream by the thud of something falling on the floor. She opened her eyes and saw on the floor a great sheaf of orange blossoms, which had plainly been thrown through the window.

Pale as death, and without picking up the flowers, she hurried to the window. She saw Raisky, as he went away, and stood transfixed. He looked round, and their eyes met.

She was seized by pain so sharp that she could hardly breathe, and stepped back. Then she saw the bouquet intended for Marfinka on the table. She picked it up, half unconsciously, to press it to her face, but it slipped from her hands, and she herself fell unconscious on the floor.

CHAPTER XXV

At ten o'clock the big bell in the village church began to sound for Ma.s.s. Tatiana Markovna's household was full of stir and bustle. The horses were being harnessed to the caleche and to an old fas.h.i.+oned carriage. The coachmen, already drunk, donned their new dark blue caftans, and their hair shone with grease. The women servants made a gay picture in their many coloured cotton dresses, head and neck kerchiefs, and the maids employed in the house diffused a scent of cloves within a ten yards radius. The cooks had donned their white caps in the early morning, and had been incessantly busy in the preparation of the breakfast, dinner and supper to be served to the family and their guests, the kitchen, and the servants the visitors brought with them.

Tatiana Markovna had begun to make her toilet at eight o'clock, as soon as she had given her orders; she descended to the hall to greet her guests with the reserved dignity of a great lady, and the gentle smile of a happy mother and a hospitable hostess. She had set a small simple cap on her grey hair; the light brown silk dress that Raisky had brought from St. Petersburg suited her well, and round her neck she wore beautiful old lace; the Turkish shawl lay on the arm-chair in her room.

Now she was preparing to drive to Ma.s.s, and walked slowly up and down the hall with crossed hands, awaiting the a.s.sembly of the household. She hardly noticed the bustle around her, as the servants went hither and thither, sweeping the carpets, cleaning the lamps, dusting the mirrors, and taking the covers from the furniture. She went first to one window and then to the other, looking out meditatively on the road, the garden and the courtyards.

Vikentev's mother was dressed in pearl grey with dark lace tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs.

Vikentev himself had been in his dress coat and white gloves from eight o'clock onwards.

Tatiana Markovna's pride and joy knew no bounds when Marfinka appeared, radiating gaiety from her bright eyes. While she slept the walls of her two rooms had been decorated with flowers and garlands. She was going to put on her simple blouse when she woke, but instead there lay on the chair by her bed a morning gown of lace and muslin with pink ribbons.

She had not had time to give vent to her admiration when she saw on two other chairs two lovely dresses, one pink and one blue, for her to make her choice for the gala day.

She jumped up, and threw on her new morning gown without waiting to put on her stockings, and when she approached her mirror she found a new surprise in the gifts that lay on her toilet table. She did not know which to look at, or which to take up.

First she opened a lovely rosewood casket which contained a complete dressing set, flasks, combs, brushes and endless trifles in gla.s.s and silver, with a card bearing the name of her future Mama. Beside it lay cases of different sizes. She threw a quick glance in the mirror, smoothed back her abundant hair from her eyes, seized all the cases in a heap, and sat down on the bed to look at them. She hesitated to open them, and finally began with the smallest, which contained an emerald ring, which she hastily put on her finger. A larger case held earrings which she inserted in her ears and admired in the gla.s.s from the bed.

There were ma.s.sive gold bracelets, set with rubies and diamonds, which she also put on. Last of all she opened the largest case, and looked astonished and dazzled at its splendid contents: a chain of strung diamonds, twenty-one to match her years. The accompanying card said: "With this gift I confide to you another, a costly one, my best of friends--myself. Take care of him. Your lover, Vikentev."

She laughed, looked round, kissed the card, blushed, sprang from the bed and laid the case in her cupboard, in the box where she kept her bonbons.

There was still another case on the table, containing Raisky's gift of a watch, whose enamel cover bore her monogram, and its chain.

She looked at it with wide eyes, threw another glance at the other gifts and the garlanded walls, then threw herself on a chair and wept hot tears of joy. "Oh, G.o.d!" she sobbed happily. "Why does everyone love me so. I do no good to anyone, and never shall."

And so, undressed, without shoes and stockings, but adorned with rings, bracelets, diamond earrings, she tearfully sought her aunt, who caressed and kissed her darling when she heard the cause of her tears.

"G.o.d loves you, Marfinka, because you love others, because all who see you are infected by your happiness."

Marfinka dried her tears.

"Nikolai Andreevich loves me, but he is my fiance; so does his Mama, but so does my cousin, Boris Pavlovich, and what am I to him?"

"The same as you are to everyone. No one can look at you and not be happy; you are modest, pure and good, obedient to your Grandmother.

Spendthrift," she murmured in an aside, to hide her pleasure. "Such a costly gift! You shall hear of this, Borushka!"

"Grandmother! As if Boris Pavlovich could have guessed it. I have wanted a little enamelled watch like this for a long time."

"You haven't asked your Grandmother why she gives you nothing?"

Marfinka shut her mouth with a kiss.

"Grandmother," she said, "love me always, if you want to make me happy."

"With my love I will give you my enduring gift," she said, making the sign of the cross over Marfinka. "So that you shall not forget my blessing," she went on, feeling in her pocket--"You have given me two dresses, Grandmother, but who decorated my room so magnificently?"

"Your fiance and Paulina Karpovna sent the things yesterday, and kept them out of your sight. Va.s.silissa and Pashutka hung the garlands up at daybreak. The dresses are part of your trousseau, and there are more to follow." Then taking from its case a gold cross with four large diamonds she hung it round the girl's neck, and gave her a plain, simple bracelet with the inscription: "From Grandmother to her Grandchild," and with the name and the date.

Marfinka kissed her aunt's hand, and nearly wept once more.