Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories

That, I confess, I had not expected. 'Do you know a young lady,' I

asked Semyon, 'a friend of Ilya Stepanitch's. Her name is Masha.'

'To be sure I know Marya Anempodistovna! A nice young lady.'

'Is your master in love with this Marya ... et cetera?'

Semyon heaved a sigh. 'That young lady is Ilya Stepanitch's undoing.

For he is desperately in love with her--and can't bring himself to

marry her--and sorry to give her up, too. It's all his honour's

faintheartedness. He is very fond of her.'

'What is she like then, pretty?' I inquired.

Semyon assumed a grave air. 'She is the sort that the gentry like.'

'And you?'

'She is not the right sort for us at all.'

'How so?'

'Very thin in the body.'

'If she died,' I began, 'do you think Ilya Stepanitch would not

survive her?'

Semyon heaved a sigh again. 'I can't venture to say that--there's no

knowing with gentlemen ... but our master is a deep one.'

I took up from the table the big, rather thick letter that Tyeglev had

given me and turned it over in my hands.... The address to 'his honour

the Commanding Officer of the Battery, Colonel So and So' (the name,

patronymic, and surname) was clearly and distinctly written. The word

urgent, twice underlined, was written in the top left-hand

corner of the envelope.

'Listen, Semyon,' I began. 'I feel uneasy about your master. I fancy

he has some mischief in his mind. We must find him.'

'Yes, sir,' answered Semyon.

'It is true there is such a fog that one cannot see a couple of yards

ahead; but all the same we must do our best. We will each take a

lantern and light a candle in each window--in case of need.'

'Yes, sir,' repeated Semyon. He lighted the lanterns and the candles

and we set off.

XV

I can't describe how we wandered and lost our way! The lanterns were

of no help to us; they did not in the least dissipate the white,

almost luminous mist which surrounded us. Several times Semyon and I

lost each other, in spite of the fact that we kept calling to each

other and hallooing and at frequent intervals shouted--I: 'Tyeglev!

Ilya Stepanitch!' and Semyon: 'Mr. Tyeglev! Your honour!' The fog so

bewildered us that we wandered about as though in a dream; soon we

were both hoarse; the fog penetrated right into one's chest. We

succeeded somehow by help of the candles in the windows in reaching

the hut again. Our combined action had been of no use--we merely

handicapped each other--and so we made up our minds not to trouble

ourselves about getting separated but to go each our own way. He went

to the left, I to the right and I soon ceased to hear his voice. The

fog seemed to have found its way into my brain and I wandered like one

dazed, simply shouting from time to time, 'Tyeglev! Tyeglev!'

'Here!' I heard suddenly in answer.

Holy saints, how relieved I was! How I rushed in the direction from

which the voice came.... A human figure loomed dark before me.... I

made for it. At last!

But instead of Tyeglev I saw another officer of the same battery,

whose name was Tyelepnev.

'Was it you answered me?' I asked him.

'Was it you calling me?' he asked in his turn.

'No; I was calling Tyeglev.'

'Tyeglev? Why, I met him a minute ago. What a fool of a night! One

can't find the way home.'

'You saw Tyeglev? Which way did he go?'

'That way, I fancy,' said the officer, waving his hand in the air.

'But one can't be sure of anything now. Do you know, for instance,

where the village is? The only hope is the dogs barking. It is a fool