"You are right, Cousin," broke in Marfinka. "Grandmother is kindness itself, but she tries to disguise it."

"Don't give your opinion when it is not asked. She contradicts her Grandmother only when you are here, Boris Pavlovich; at other times she is modest enough. And now the ideas she suddenly takes into her head. I?

entertain Markushka!"

"You did as you pleased," continued Raisky. "And then when it entered my head too to do as I pleased, I disturbed your arrangements and made a breach in your despotism. Isn't that so, Granny? And now kiss me, and we will give one another full liberty."

"What a strange boy? Do you hear, Tiet Nikonich, what nonsense he talks."

On that evening Tatiana Markovna and Raisky concluded, if not peace, at least a truce. She was a.s.sured that Boris loved and esteemed her; she was, in truth, easily convinced. After supper Raisky unpacked his trunk, and brought down his gifts; for his aunt, a few pounds of excellent tea, of which she was a connoisseur, a coffee machine of a new kind, with a coffee-pot, and a dark brown silk dress; bracelets with monograms for his cousins; and for Tiet Nikonich vest and hose of Samian leather, as his aunt had desired.

Tatiana Markovna, with tears in her eyes, sat down beside him, and putting her hand on his shoulder said, "And you remembered me?"

"Whom else should I remember? You are my nearest and dearest, Grandmother."

When Tiet Nikonich and Paulina Karpovna took leave, the lady said that she had left orders with no one to fetch her, and that she hoped someone would accompany her, looking towards Raisky as she spoke. Tiet Nikonich expressed himself ready to see her home.

"Egorka could have taken her," whispered Tatiana Markovna. "Why didn't she stay at home; she was not invited."

"Thank you, thank you," said Paulina Karpovna to Raisky as she pa.s.sed him.

"What for?" asked Raisky in amazement.

"For the pleasant, witty conversation, although it was not directed to me. What pleasure it gave me!"

"A practical conversation about groats, a goose, and a quarrel with Grandmother."

"Ah, I understand," she continued, "but I caught two glances, which were intended for me, confess they were. I am filled with hope and expectation."

As she went out Raisky asked Marfinka what she was talking about.

"She's always like that," laughed Marfinka.

Tatiana Markovna followed Raisky to his room, smoothed the sheets of his bed once more, drew the curtains so that the sun should not awaken him in the morning, felt the feather bed to test its softness, and had a jug of water placed on the table beside him. She came back three times to see if he were asleep or wanted anything. Touched by so much kindly thought he recognised that his grandmother's activity was not only exerted to gratify herself.

CHAPTER IX

The days pa.s.sed quietly by. Every morning the sun climbed up through the blue air, and lighted up the Volga and its banks. At midday the snowy clouds crept up, often piled one on another until the blue sky was hidden, and the cooling rain fell on woods and fields; then once more the clouds stole away before the approach of the warm, pleasant evening.

Life at Malinovka pa.s.sed just as peacefully. The naivete of the surroundings had not yet lost its charm for Raisky. The sunshine insinuating itself everywhere, his aunt's kind face, Marfinka's friendliness, and the willing attention of the servants made up a pleasant, friendly environment. He even felt pleasure in the watchful guardianship that his aunt exercised over him; he smiled when she preached order to him, warned him of crime and temptation, reproached him for his gipsy tendencies and tried to lead him to a definite plan of life.

He liked Tiet Nikonich, and saw in his courtesy and his extreme good manners, his care for his health, and the universal esteem and affection in which he was held, a survival from the last century. When he felt very good tempered he found even Paulina Karpovna's eccentricities amusing. She had induced him to lunch with her one day, when she a.s.sured him that she was not indifferent to him, and that he himself was on the eve of returning her sentiments!

The even, monotonous life lulled him like a cradle song. He wrote idly at his novel, strengthened a situation here, grouped a scene there, or accentuated a character. He watched his aunt, Leonti and his wife, and Marfinka, or looked at the villages and fields lying in an enchanted sleep along the banks of the Volga. In this ocean of silence he caught notes which he could interpret in terms of music, and determined, in his abundant leisure, to pursue the subject.

One day, after a lonely walk along the sh.o.r.e, he climbed the cliff, and pa.s.sed Koslov's house. Seeing that the windows were lighted, he was going up to the door, when suddenly he heard someone climb over the fence and jump down into the garden. Standing in the shadow of the fence, Raisky hesitated. He was afraid to sound the alarm until he knew whether it was a thief or an admirer of Juliana Andreevna's, some Monsieur Charles or other. However, he decided to pursue the intruder, and promptly climbed the fence and followed him. The man stopped before a window and hammered on the pane.

"That is no thief, possibly Mark," thought Raisky. He was right.

"Philosopher, open! Quick!" cried the intruder.

"Go round to the entrance," said Leonti's voice dully through the gla.s.s.

"To the entrance, to wake the dog! Open!"

"Wait!" said Leonti, and as he opened the window Mark swung himself into the room.

"Who is that behind you. Whom have you brought with you?" asked Leonti in terror.

"No one. Do you imagine there's a ghost. Ah! there is someone scrambling up."

"Boris, you? How did you happen to arrive together," he exclaimed as Raisky sprang into the room.

Mark cast a hasty glance on Boris and turned to Leonti. "Give me another pair of trousers. Have you any wine in the house?

"What's the matter, and where have you been?" asked Leonti suddenly, who had just noticed that Mark was covered up to the waist with wet and slime.

"Give me another pair of trousers quick," said Mark impatiently. "What is the good of chattering?"

"I have no wine, because we drank it all at dinner, when Monsieur Charles was our guest."

"Where do you keep your clothes?"

"My wife is asleep and I don't know; you must ask Avdotya."

"Fool! I will find them myself!"

He took a light, and went into the next room.

"You see what he is like," sighed Leonti, addressing Raisky.

After about ten minutes, Mark returned with the trousers and Leonti questioned him as to how he had got wet through.

"I was crossing the Volga in a fishing-boat. The a.s.s of a fisherman fell asleep, and brought us right up into the reeds by the island, and we had to get out among the reeds to extricate the boat."

Without taking any heed of Raisky, he changed his trousers and sat down with his feet drawn up under him in the great armchair, so that his knees were on a level with his face, and he supported his bearded chin upon them.

Raisky observed him silently. Mark was twenty-seven, built as if his muscles were iron, and well proportioned; a thick mane of light brown hair framed his pale face with its high arched forehead, and fell in long locks on his neck. The full beard was paler in colour. His open, bold, irregular, rather thin face was illuminated every now and then by a smile--of which it was hard to read the meaning; one could not tell whether it spelt vexation, mockery or pleasure. His grey eyes could be bold and commanding, but for the most part wore a cold expression of contempt. Tied up in a knot as he was, he now sat motionless with staring eyes, stirring neither hand nor foot.

There was something restless and watchful in the motionless att.i.tude, as in that of a dog apparently at rest, but ready to spring.

Suddenly his eyes gleamed, and he turned to Raisky. "You will have brought some good cigars from St. Petersburg," he began without ceremony.

"Give me one."

Raisky offered his cigar case, and reminded Leonti that he had not introduced them.