"He is by way of being an artist, draws, writes, improvises very nicely on the piano, and dreams of art. Yet it seems to me that he does substantially nothing, but is spending his life, as he says, in the adoration of beauty; he is a lover by temperament, like (do you remember?) Dashenka Sfemechkin, who fell in love with a Spanish prince, whose portrait she had seen in a German calendar, and would admit no one, not even the piano-tuner, Kish. But Boris Pavlovich is full of kindness and honour, is upright, gay, original, but all these qualities are so disconnected and uncertain in their expression that we don't know what to make of them. Now he seeks my friendship, but I am afraid of him, am afraid he may do anything, am afraid (here some lines were crossed out).

Ah, if only he would go away. It is terrible to think he may one day (here again words were crossed out).

"And I need one thing--rest. The doctor says I am nervous, must spare myself, and avoid all agitation. Thank G.o.d, he is also attached to Grandmother, and I am left in peace. I do not want to step out of the circle I have drawn for myself; and n.o.body else should cross the line.

In its sanct.i.ty lies my peace and my whole happiness.

"If Raisky oversteps this line, the only course that remains to me is to fly from here. That is easy to say, but where? And then I have some conscience about it, because he is so good, so kind to me and my sister, and means to make a gift to us of this place, this Paradise, where I have learned to live and not to vegetate. It lies on my conscience that he should squander these undeserved tokens of affection, that he tries to be brilliant for my sake, and to awaken in me some affection, although I have denied him every hope. Ah, if he only knew how vain his efforts are.

"Now I will tell you about _him_...."

The letter went no further, and Raisky looked at the lines as if he were trying to read behind them. Vera had said practically nothing about herself; she remained in the shadow, while the whole garish light fell on him.

"There was another letter," he said sharply, "written on blue paper."

Vera had not left the room, but someone's hand was on the lock.

"Who is there?" asked Raisky with a start.

In the doorway appeared Va.s.silissa's anxious face.

"It's I," she said in a low voice. "It's a good thing you are here, Boris Pavlovich; they are asking for you. Please make haste. There is n.o.body in the hall. Yakob is at church. Egorka has been sent to the Volga for some fish, and I am alone with Pashutka."

"Who is asking for me?"

"A gendarme from the Governor. The Governor asks you to go to see him, at once, if possible, if not to-morrow morning. The business is pressing."

"Very well. I will go."

"Please, as quickly as possible. Then _he_ has also come."

"Who?"

"The man they would like to horsewhip. He has made himself at home in the hall, and is waiting for you. The Mistress and Marfa Va.s.silievna have not yet returned from the town."

"Didn't you ask his name?"

"He gave his name, but I have forgotten. He is the man who stayed the night with you when you were drinking. Please, Boris Pavlovich, be quick.

Pashutka and I have locked ourselves in."

"Why?"

"Because we were afraid. I climbed out of the window into the yard to come and tell you. If only he does not nose anything out."

Raisky went with her, laughing. He sent a message by the gendarme that he would be with the Governor in an hour. Then he sought out Mark and led him into his room.

"Do you wish to spend the night with me?" he asked ironically.

"I am indeed a nightbird," answered Mark, who looked anxious. "I receive too much attention in the daytime, and it puts less shame on your Aunt's house. The magnificent old lady, to show Tychkov the door. But I have come to you on important business," he said, looking serious.

"You have business! That is interesting."

"Yes, more serious than yours. To-day I was at the police-station, not exactly paying a call. The police inspector had invited me, and I was politely fetched with a pair of grey horses."

"What has happened?"

"A trifling thing. I had lent books to one or two people...."

"Perhaps mine, that you had taken from Leonti?"

"Those and others--here is the list," he said, handing him a slip of paper.

"To whom did you give the books?"

"To many people, mostly young people. One fool, the son of an advocate, did not understand some French phrases, and showed the book to his mother, who handed it on to the father, and he in his turn to the magistrate. The magistrate, having heard of the name of the author, made a great commotion and informed the Governor. At first the lad would not give me away, but when they applied the rod to him he gave my name, and to-day they summoned me to court."

"And what line did you adopt?"

"What line?" said Mark laughing, as he looked at Raisky. "They asked me whose books they were, and where I had got them, and I said from you; some you had brought with you; others, Voltaire, for instance, I had found in your library."

"I'm much obliged. Why did you put this honour on me?"

"n.o.body will meddle with you, since you are in his Excellency's favour.

Then you are not living here under official compulsion. But I shall be sent off to a third place of exile; this is already the second. At any other time this would be a matter of indifference to me, but just now, for the time being, at least, I should like to stay here."

"And what else?"

"Nothing. I only wanted to tell you what I have done, and to ask whether you will take it on yourself or not."

"But what if I won't, and I don't intend to."

"Then instead of your name I will give Koslov's. He is growing mouldy here. Let him go to prison. He can take up his Greeks again later."

"No, he will never take them up again if he is robbed of his position, and of his bread and b.u.t.ter."

"There you are right, my conclusions were illogical. It would be better for you to take it on yourself."

"What are you to me that I should do so?"

"On the former occasion I needed money, and you had what I lacked. This is the same case. No one will touch you, while I should be sent off. I am now logical enough."

"You ask a remarkable service. I am just going to the Governor, who has sent for me. Good-bye."

"He has sent for you, then?"

"What am I to do? What should I say?"

"Say that you are the hero of the piece, and the Governor will quash the whole matter, for he does not like sending special reports to St.

Petersburg. With me it is quite different. I am under police supervision, and it is his duty to return a report every month as to my circ.u.mstances and my mode of life. However," he added with apparent indifference, "do as you like. And now come, for I have no more time either. Let us go as far as the wood together, and I will climb down the precipice. I will wait at the fisherman's on the island to see how the matter ends."

At the edge of the precipice Mark vanished into the bushes. Raisky drove to the Governor's, and returned home about two o'clock in the morning.