am not connected with you in any way. Nothing but my unbounded respect for your dignity prevents me now from demanding from you the fullest explanaticMi and satisfaction for taking upon yourself the right to answer for me.'
The General was so much amazed that he flung up his hands, then turned suddenly to the Frenchman and hurriedly informed him that I had just all but challenged him to a duel.
The Frenchman laughed aloud.
'But I am not going to let the Baron off,' I said, with complete compostire, not in the least embarrassed by M. de Grieux's laughter; 'and as. General, you consented to listen to the Baron's complaint to-day and have taken up his cause, and have made yourself, as it were, a party in the whole affair, I have the honour to inform you that no later than to-morrow morning I shall ask the Baron on my own account for a formal explanation of the reasons which led him to apply to other persons—as though I were unable or unfit to answer for myself.'
What I foresaw happened. The General, hearing of this new absurdity, became horribly nervous.
'What, do you mean to keep up this damnable business?' he shouted. 'What a position you are putting me in—good heavens! Don't dare, don't dare, sir, or, I swear! . . . There are police here, too, and I ... I ... in fact, by my rank . . . and the Baron's, too ... in fact, you shall be arrested and turned out of the state by the police, to teach you not to make a disturbance. Do you understand that, sir?' And although he was breathless with anger, he was also horribly frightened.
'General,' I answered, with a composure that was insufferable to him, 'you can't arrest anyone for making a disturbance
before they have made a disturbance. I have not yet begun to make my explanations to the Baron, and you don't know in the least in what form or on what grounds I intend to proceed. I only wish to have an explanation of a position insulting to me, i.e. that I am under the control of a person who has authority over my freedom of action. There is no need for you to be so anxious and uneasy.'
'For goodness' sake, for goodness' sake, Alexey Ivanovitch, drop this insane intention!' muttered the General, suddenly changing his wrathful tone for one of entreaty, and even clutching me by the hand. 'Fancy what it will lead to! Fresh unpleasantness ! You must see for yourself that I must be particular here . . . particularly now! particularly now! . . . Oh, you don't know, you don't know all my circumstances! . . . When we leave tlus place I shall be willing to take you back again; I was only speaking of now, in fact—of course, you understand there are reasons!' he cried in despair. 'Alexey Ivanovitch, Alexey Ivanovitch ...'
Retreating to the door, I begged him more earnestly not to worry himself, promised him that everything should go off well and with propriety, and hastily witii(i:ew.
The Russian abroad is sometimes too easily cowed, and is horribly afraid of what people will say, how they will look at him, and whether this or that will be the proper thing. In short, they behave as though they were in corsets, especially those who have pretensions to consequence. The thing that pleases them most is a certain established traditional etiquette, which they follow slavishly in hotels, on their walks, in assemblies, on a journey . . . But the General had let slip that, apart from this, there was a particular circumstance, that he must be 'particular.' That was why he so weakly showed the white feather and changed his tone with me. I took this as evidence and made a note of it; and, of course, he might have brought my folly to the notice of the authorities, so that I really had to be careful.
I did not particularly want to anger the General, however; but I did want to anger Polina. Polina had treated me so badly, and had thrust me into such a stupid position, that I could not help wanting to force her to beg me to stop. My schoolboyish prank might compromise her, too. Moreover, another feeling and desire was taking shape in me: though I might be reduced to a nonentity in her presence, that did not prove that I could not hold my own before other people, or
that the Baron could thrash me. I longed to have the laugh against them all, and to come off with flying colours. Let them see I She would be frightened by the scandal and call me back again, or, even if she didn't, at least she would see that I could hold my own.
(A wonderful piece of news! I have just heard from the nurse, whom I met on the stairs, that Marya Filippovna set off to-day, entirely alone, by the evening train to Karlsbad to see her cousin. What's the meaning of tiiat? Nurse says that she has long been meaning to go; but how was it no one knew of it? Though perhaps I was the only one who did not know it. The nurse let slip that Marya Filippovna had words with the General the day before yesterday. I understand. No doubt that is Mile. Blanche. Yes, something decisive is coming.)
CHAPTER VII
IN the morning I called for the keUner and told him to make out a separate bill for me. My room was not such an expensive one as to make me feel alarmed and anxious to leave the hotel. I had sixteen friedrichs d'or, and there . . . there per-, haps was wealth! Strange to say, I have not won yet, but I behave, I feel and think like a rich man, and caimot imagine anything else.
In spite of the early hour I intended to go at once to see Mr. Astley at the H6tel d'Angleterre, which was quite close by, when suddenly De Grieux came in to me. That had never happened before, and, what is more, that gentleman and I had for some time past been on very queer and strained terms. He openly displayed his contempt for me, even tried not to conceal it; and I—I had my own reasons for disliking him. In short, I hated him. His visit greatly surprised me. I at once detected that something special was brewing.
He came in very politely emd complimented me on my room. Seeing that I had my hat in my hand, he inquired whether I could be going out for a walk so early. When he heard that I was going to see Mr. Astley on business, he pondered, he reflected, and his face assumed an exceedingly careworn expression.
De Grieux was like all Frenchmen; that is, gay and poUte
when necessary and profitable to be so, and insufferably tedious when the necessity to be gay and polite was over. A Frenchman is not often naturally polite. He is always polite, as it were, to order, with a motive. If he sees the necessity for being fantastic, original, a Uttle out of the ordinary, then his freakish-ness is most stupid and unnatural, and is made up of accepted and long-vulgarised traditions. The natural Frenchman is composed of the most plebeian, petty, ordinary practical sense—in fact, he is one of the most wearisome creatures in the world. In my opinion, only the innocent and inexperienced—especially Russian young ladies—are fascinated by Frenchmen. To every decent person the conventionalism of the established traditions of drawing-room politeness, ease and gaiety are at once evident and intolerable.
'I have come to see you on business,' he began, with marked directness, though with courtesy, 'and I will not disguise that I have come as an ambassador, or rather cis a mediator, from the General. As I know Russian very imperfectly I understood very little of what passed yesterday, but the General explained it to me in detail, and I confess . . .'
'But, Usten, M. de Grieux,' I interrupted; 'here you have undertaken to be a mediator in this affair. I am, of course, an mOchitel, and have never laid claim to the honour of being a great friend of this family, nor of being on particularly intimate terms with it, and so I don't know all the circumstances; but explain: are you now entirely a member of the family? You take such an interest in everything and are certain at once to be a mediator . . .'
This question did not please him. It was too transparent for him, and he did not want to speak out.
'I am coimected with the General partly by business, partly by certain special circumstances,' he said dryly. 'The General has sent me to ask you to abandon the intentions you expressed yesterday. All you thought of doing was no doubt very clever; but he begged me to represent to you that you would be utterly unsuccessful; what's more, the Baron will not receive you, and in any case is in a position to rid himself of any further unpleasantness on your part. You must see that yourself. Tell me, what is the object of going on with it? The General promises to take you back into his home at the first convenient opportunity, and until that time will continue your salary, ws af^ndiemeniis. That will be fairly profitable, won't it?'
I retorted very calmly that he was rather mistaken; that
perhaps I shouldn't be kicked out at the Baron's, but, on the contrary, should be listened to; and I asked him to admit that he had probably come to find out what steps I was going to take in the matter.
'Oh, heavens! Since the General is so interested, he will, of course, be glad to know how you are going to behave, and what you are going to do.'
I proceeded to explain, and he began listening, stretching himself at his ease, and inclining his head on one side towarcfi me, with an obvious, undisguised expression of irony on his face. Altogether he behaved very loftily. I tried with all my might to pretend that I took a very serious view of the matter. I explained that since the Baron had addressed a complaint of me to the General as though I were the latter's servant, he had, in the first place,
