Mikhail Lermontov - A Hero of Our Time

Ladies who come to take the waters still believe the stories of Circassian raids in broad daylight, and that probably explained why Grushnitsky had belted a saber and a pair of pistols over his soldier's overcoat-he looked rather ridiculous in these heroic vestments. A tall bush concealed me from them, but I had a perfect view through the foliage and could tell by the expression of their faces that the conversation was in a sentimental vein. Finally they neared the dip in the road. Grushnitsky gripped the reins of the young princess's horse, and now I could hear the end of their conversation:

"And you wish to remain in the Caucasus all your life?" said the princess.

"What is Russia to me?" replied her escort. "A country where thousands of people will despise me because they are wealthier than I, whereas here-why here this thick overcoat was no obstacle to my making your acquaintance..."

"On the contrary..." said the princess, blushing.

Grushnitsky looked pleased. He continued:

"Here my days will flow past thick and fast under the bullets of the barbarians, and if only God would send me each year one radiant feminine glance, one like…"

By this time they drew level with me; I struck my horse with my whip and rode out from behind the bushes.

" Mon Dieu, un Circassien !" cried the princess in terror.

To reassure her I replied in French , with a slight bow: " Ne craignez rien, madame, je ne suis pas plus dangereux que votre cavalier . [96] "My God, a Circassian (bandit)." "Fear not, ma'am, I am no more dangerous than your companion" (cavalier, gallant knight, meaning Grushnitsky). More polite French phrases follow in this story, such as "That's impossible," "Permit me," and so forth. Upper class Russians spoke French in formal society. "

She was thrown into confusion-I wonder why? Because of her mistake, or because she thought my reply insolent? I wish indeed that the latter supposition were the case. Grushnitsky glanced at me with displeasure.

Late that night, that is, about eleven o'clock, I went for a walk along the lime-tree avenue of the boulevard. The town was fast asleep, and only here and there a light shone in a window. On three sides loomed the black ridges of the spurs of Mashuk, on whose summit lay an ominous cloud; the moon was rising in the east; in the distance the snow-capped summits glistened in a silvery fringe. The cries of sentries intermingled with the noise of the hot springs now running freely for the night. At times ringing hoof beats echoed down the street, accompanied by the creaking of a covered ox wagon and the plaintive chant of a Tatar refrain. I sat down on a bench and sank into thought. I felt a need to unburden my thoughts in a friendly talk... but with whom? What was Vera doing now, I wondered. I would have given much to press her hand just then.

Suddenly I heard quick, uneven steps... Probably Grushnitsky... and so it was!

"Where have you been?"

"At Princess Ligovskaya's," he said, full of importance. "How beautifully Mary sings!"

"You know what," said I, "I'll bet she doesn't know you're a cadet, but thinks you're a demoted officer."

"Maybe. What do I care!" he said absently.

"Well, I just mentioned it..."

"Do you know that you just made her terribly angry? She thought it was downright insolence on your part. I had a hard time trying to assure her that you are so well-bred and so much at home in society that you couldn't have had any intention of insulting her. She says you have an impudent look and must be very conceited."

"She's right... You seem to be taking her part, don't you?"

"I'm sorry to say I haven't that right yet."

"Oho!" thought I. "Evidently he already has hopes…"

"It'll only be the worse for you," Grushnitsky went on. "Now it'll be hard for you to meet them-what a pity! It's one of the pleasantest houses I know. . ."

I smiled inwardly.

"The pleasantest house for me just now is my own," said I yawning, and rose to go.

"Still you must admit that you regret it?"

"What nonsense! I could be at the princess's tomorrow night if I wished..."

"We'll see about that . .

"To please you, I will even pay court to the Princess Mary... ."

"That is, if she is willing to speak to you... ."

"I'll wait till she gets bored with your conversation... Good night!"

"And I'm going for a prowl-couldn't fall asleep for anything now... Look here, let's go to the restaurant, to the gambling tables... Violent sensations are what I need tonight."

"I hope you lose…"

I went home.

Nearly a week has passed and I've still not met the Ligovskoys. I'm waiting for my opportunity. Grushnitsky follows Princess Mary about like a shadow, and they talk incessantly. I wonder when she'll get tired of him? Her mother takes no notice of what's going on because he's not eligible . That is the logic of mothers for you! I have noticed two or three tender looks-must put a stop to this.

Yesterday Vera made her first appearance at the spring. Since our meeting in the grotto, she's not left the house. We dipped our glasses into the water at the same time and, as she bent down, she whispered to me: "You don't want to get to know the Ligovksoys? It is the only place where we can meet."

A reproach-how boring! But I deserved it.

By the way, tomorrow there's a subscription ball at the restaurant hall, and I intend to dance the mazurka with Princess Mary.

The restaurant ballroom turned into a Nobles' Club hall. By nine o'clock everybody was there. Princess Ligovskaya and her daughter were among the last to arrive. Many of the ladies eyed Princess Mary with envy and ill will, for she dresses with very good taste. Those who consider themselves the local aristocrats concealed their envy and attached themselves to her. What else could be expected? Wherever there is feminine society, there is an immediate division into the upper and lower circles. Grushnitsky stood among the crowd outside the window, pressing his face to the glass and eating his goddess with his eyes; in passing she gave him a barely noticeable nod. He beamed like the sun... The first dance was a polonaise, then the orchestra struck up a waltz. Spurs jingled and coat tails whirled.

I stood behind a fat lady sprouting rose-colored feathers. The splendor of her gown was reminiscent of the farthingale age and the blotchiness of her coarse skin of the happy epoch of the black-taffeta beauty spot. The biggest wart on her neck was concealed beneath a clasp. She was saying to her partner, a captain of dragoons: "This young Princess Ligovskaya is an unbearable minx. Think of it, she bumped into me and didn't bother to apologize, and actually turned round to look at me through her eyeglass. . . C'est impayable ! What cause has she to give herself airs? It would do her good to be taught a lesson..."

"Leave it to me!" replied the obliging captain and repaired to another room.

I went over at once to Princess Mary and asked for the waltz, taking advantage of the freedom of the local customs which allow one to dance with strangers.

She was scarcely able to suppress a smile and thus conceal her triumph, but quickly enough she managed to assume a totally indifferent and even severe appearance. She carelessly laid her hand on my shoulder, tilted her head a bit to one side, and off we started. I know no other waist so voluptuous and supple. Her sweet breath caressed my face. Now and then a ringlet of hair broke loose from its companions in the whirl of the dance and brushed my burning cheek... I made three turns round the room. (She waltzes delightfully.) She was panting, her eyes looked blurred and her separated lips could hardly whisper the necessary " Merci, monsieur ".