Resurrection

I'll take another.'

'Well, are you moving soon?'

'Yes, this is our last day. That's why we have come. Yes, it must be lovely in the country; we are having a delightful spring.'

Missy, with her hat on, in a dark-striped dress of some kind that fitted her like a skin, was looking very handsome. She blushed when she saw Nekhludoff.

'And I thought you had left,' she said to him.

'I am on the point of leaving. Business is keeping me in town, and it is on business I have come here.'

'Won't you come to see mamma? She would like to see you,' she said, and knowing that she was saying what was not true, and that he knew it also, she blushed still more.

'I fear I shall scarcely have time,' Nekhludoff said gloomily, trying to appear as if he had not noticed her blush. Missy frowned angrily, shrugged her shoulders, and turned towards an elegant officer, who grasped the empty cup she was holding, and knocking his sword against the chairs, manfully carried the cup across to another table.

'You must contribute towards the Home fund.'

'I am not refusing, but only wish to keep my bounty fresh for the lottery. There I shall let it appear in all its glory.'

'Well, look out for yourself,' said a voice, followed by an evidently feigned laugh.

Anna Ignatievna was in raptures; her 'at-home' had turned out a brilliant success. 'Micky tells me you are busying yourself with prison work. I can understand you so well,' she said to Nekhludoff. 'Micky (she meant her fat husband, Maslennikoff) may have other defects, but you know how kind-hearted he is. All these miserable prisoners are his children. He does not regard them in any other light. Il est d'une bonte—-' and she stopped, finding no words to do justice to this bonte of his, and quickly turned to a shrivelled old woman with bows of lilac ribbon all over, who came in just then.

Having said as much as was absolutely necessary, and with as little meaning as conventionality required, Nekhludoff rose and went up to Meslennikoff. 'Can you give me a few minutes' hearing, please?'

'Oh, yes. Well, what is it?'

'Let us come in here.'

They entered a small Japanese sitting-room, and sat down by the window.

CHAPTER LVIII.

THE VICE-GOVERNOR SUSPICIOUS.

'Well? Je suis a vous. Will you smoke? But wait a bit; we must be careful and not make a mess here,' said Maslennikoff, and brought an ashpan. 'Well?'

'There are two matters I wish to ask you about.'

'Dear me!'

An expression of gloom and dejection came over Maslennikoff's countenance, and every trace of the excitement, like that of the dog's whom its master has scratched behind the cars, vanished completely. The sound of voices reached them from the drawing- room. A woman's voice was heard, saying, 'Jamais je ne croirais,' and a man's voice from the other side relating something in which the names of la Comtesse Voronzoff and Victor Apraksine kept recurring. A hum of voices, mixed with laughter, came from another side. Maslennikoff tried to listen to what was going on in the drawing-room and to what Nekhludoff was saying at the same time.

'I am again come about that same woman,' said Nekhludoff.

'Oh, yes; I know. The one innocently condemned.'

'I would like to ask that she should be appointed to serve in the prison hospital. I have been told that this could be arranged.'

Maslennikoff compressed his lips and meditated. 'That will be scarcely possible,' he said. 'However, I shall see what can be done, and shall wire you an answer tomorrow.'

'I have been told that there were many sick, and help was needed.'

'All right, all right. I shall let you know in any case.'

'Please do,' said Nekhludoff.

The sound of a general and even a natural laugh came from the drawing-room.

'That's all that Victor. He is wonderfully sharp when he is in the right vein,' said Maslennikoff.

'The next thing I wanted to tell you,' said Nekhludoff, 'is that 130 persons are imprisoned only because their passports are overdue. They have been kept here a month.'

And he related the circumstances of the case.

'How have you come to know of this?' said Maslennikoff, looking uneasy and dissatisfied.

'I went to see a prisoner, and these men came and surrounded me in the corridor, and asked . . .'

'What prisoner did you go to see?'

'A peasant who is kept in prison, though innocent. I have put his case into the hands of a lawyer. But that is not the point.'

'Is it possible that people who have done no wrong are imprisoned only because their passports are overdue? And . . .'

'That's the Procureur's business,' Maslennikoff interrupted, angrily. 'There, now, you see what it is you call a prompt and just form of trial. It is the business of the Public Prosecutor to visit the prison and to find out if the prisoners are kept there lawfully. But that set play cards; that's all they do.'

'Am I to understand that you can do nothing?' Nekhludoff said, despondently, remembering that the advocate had foretold that the Governor would put the blame on the Procureur.

'Oh, yes, I can. I shall see about it at once.'

'So much the worse for her. C'est un souffre douleur,' came the voice of a woman, evidently indifferent to what she was saying, from the drawing-room.

'So much the better. I shall take it also,' a man's voice was heard to say from the other side, followed by the playful laughter of a woman, who was apparently trying to prevent the man from taking something away from her.

'No, no; not on any account,' the woman's voice said.

'All right, then. I shall do all this,' Maslennikoff repeated, and put out the cigarette he held in his white, turquoise-ringed hand. 'And now let us join the ladies.'

'Wait a moment,' Nekhludoff said, stopping at the door of the drawing-room. 'I was told that some men had received corporal punishment in the prison yesterday. Is this true?'

Maslennikoff blushed.

'Oh, that's what you are after? No, mon cher, decidedly it won't do to let you in there; you want to get at everything. Come, come; Anna is calling us,' he said, catching Nekhludoff by the arm, and again becoming as excited as after the attention paid him by the important person, only now his excitement was not joyful, but anxious.

Nekhludoff pulled his arm away, and without taking leave of any one and without saying a word, he passed through the drawing-room with a dejected look, went down into the hall, past the footman, who sprang towards him, and out at the street door.

'What is the matter with him? What have you done to him?' asked

Anna of her husband.

'This is a la Francaise,' remarked some one.

'A la Francaise, indeed—it is a la Zoulou.'

'Oh, but he's always been like that.'

Some one rose, some one came in, and the clatter went on its course. The company used this episode with