'I found in Petersburg exactly what I expected,' answered Tyeglev,
without moving from the spot.
'That is ... you mean to say ... your friend ... this Masha....'
'She has taken her life,' Tyeglev answered hurriedly and as it were
angrily. 'She was buried the day before yesterday. She did not even
leave a note for me. She poisoned herself.'
Tyeglev hurriedly uttered these terrible words and still stood
motionless as a stone.
I clasped my hands. 'Is it possible? How dreadful! Your presentiment
has come true.... That is awful!'
I stopped in confusion. Slowly and with a sort of triumph Tyeglev
folded his arms.
'But why are we standing here?' I began. 'Let us go home.'
'Let us,' said Tyeglev. 'But how can we find the way in this fog?'
'There is a light in our windows, and we will make for it. Come
along.'
'You go ahead,' answered Tyeglev. 'I will follow you.' We set off. We
walked for five minutes and our beacon light still did not appear; at
last it gleamed before us in two red points. Tyeglev stepped evenly
behind me. I was desperately anxious to get home as quickly as
possible and to learn from him all the details of his unhappy
expedition to Petersburg. Before we reached the hut, impressed by what
he had said, I confessed to him in an access of remorse and a sort of
superstitious fear, that the mysterious knocking of the previous
evening had been my doing ... and what a tragic turn my jest had
taken!
Tyeglev confined himself to observing that I had nothing to do with
it--that something else had guided my hand--and this only showed how
little I knew him. His voice, strangely calm and even, sounded close
to my ear. 'But you do not know me,' he added. 'I saw you smile
yesterday when I spoke of the strength of my will. You will come to
know me--and you will remember my words.'
The first hut of the village sprang out of the fog before us like some
dark monster ... then the second, our hut, emerged--and my setter dog
began barking, probably scenting me.
I knocked at the window. 'Semyon!' I shouted to Tyeglev's servant,
'hey, Semyon! Make haste and open the gate for us.'
The gate creaked and opened; Semyon crossed the threshold.
'Ilya Stepanitch, come in,' I said, and I looked round. But no Ilya
Stepanitch was with me. Tyeglev had vanished as though he had sunk
into the earth.
I went into the hut feeling dazed.
XIV
Vexation with Tyeglev and with myself succeeded the amazement with
which I was overcome at first.
'Your master is mad!' I blurted out to Semyon, 'raving mad! He
galloped off to Petersburg, then came back and is running about all
over the place! I did get hold of him and brought him right up to the
gate--and here he has given me the slip again! To go out of doors on a
night like this! He has chosen a nice time for a walk!'
'And why did I let go of his hand?' I reproached myself. Semyon looked
at me in silence, as though intending to say something--but after the
fashion of servants in those days he simply shifted from one foot to
the other and said nothing.
'What time did he set off for town?' I asked sternly.
'At six o'clock in the morning.'
'And how was he--did he seem anxious, depressed?' Semyon looked down.
'Our master is a deep one,' he began. 'Who can make him out? He told
me to get out his new uniform when he was going out to town--and then
he curled himself.'
'Curled himself?'
'Curled his hair. I got the curling tongs ready for him.'
