Mikhail Lermontov - A Hero of Our Time

"Take care!" I called out to him. "Don't fall too soon; it's an ill omen. Remember Julius Caesar [108] whose fate the Roman augurs, or fortune-tellers, had fully predicted, as in "the ides of March". !"

And so we reached the top of the projecting cliff. The ledge was covered with fine sand as if specially spread there for the duel. All around, wrapped in the golden mist of morning, the mountain peaks clustered like a numberless herd, while in the south Elbrus loomed white, bringing up the rear of a chain of icy summits among which roamed the feathery clouds blown in from the east. I walked to the brink of the ledge and looked down. My head nearly swam. Down below it was dark and cold as the grave, and the moss-grown jagged rocks, hurled down by storm and time, awaited their prey.

The ledge on which we were to fight was an almost regular triangle. Six paces were measured off from the projecting angle, and it was decided that he who would first have to face his opponent's fire would stand at the very edge with his back to the abyss. If he were not killed, the adversaries would change places.

I decided to give Grushnitsky every advantage, for I wanted to test him-a spark of generosity might have been awakened in his soul, in which case everything would have turned out for the best, but vanity and weakness of character were bound to triumph... I wanted to give myself full justification for not sparing him if fate showed mercy to me. Who has not thus struck a bargain with his conscience?

"Toss the coin, doctor!" said the captain.

The doctor produced a silver coin from his pocket and held it aloft.

"Tails!" cried Grushnitsky suddenly, like a man just awakened by a friendly nudge.

"Heads!" said I.

The coin rose into the air and came down with a clink. We all rushed over to look at it.

"You're lucky," I said to Grushnitsky, "you're to shoot first. But remember, if you don't kill me, I won't miss-I give you my word of honor."

He turned red. The thought of killing an unarmed man filled him with shame. I looked at him intently, and for a moment I thought he would throw himself at my feet and beg my forgiveness; but how could he confess to a scheme so vile? One way out remained for him: to fire into the air. I was certain he would fire into the air! Only one thing might prevent him from doing so: the thought that I might demand a second duel.

"It's time now!" the doctor whispered to me, tugging at my sleeve. "If you will not tell them now that we know their intention, all will be lost. See, he is loading already. If you won't, I'll tell them..."

"Certainly not, doctor!" I replied, restraining him by the arm. "You'll spoil everything; you gave me your word you wouldn't interfere... And why should it concern you? Perhaps I want to be killed."

He looked at me in amazement.

"Oh, that's another matter! Only don't blame me in the next world…"

Meanwhile the captain had loaded his pistols. One he gave Grushnitsky, smilingly whispering something to him, the other to me.

I took my place at the far corner of the ledge, firmly bracing my left foot against the rock and leaning slightly forward so as not to fall backwards in case I was lightly wounded.

Grushnitsky took his place opposite me, and when the signal was given, started to raise the pistol. His knees shook. He aimed straight at my forehead...

Savage anger sprang up in my heart.

Suddenly he lowered the muzzle of his pistol and, going as white as a sheet, turned to his second.

"I can't do it," he said hoarsely.

"Coward!" replied the captain.

The shot rang out. The bullet scratched my knee. Involuntarily, I took a few steps forward, to get away from the brink as quickly as possible.

"Well, brother Grushnitsky, it's a pity you missed!" said the captain. "Now it's your turn; take your place! Embrace me before you go, for we will meet no more!" They embraced, the captain scarcely able to restrain himself from laughter. "Don't be afraid," he added, with a sly look at Grushnitsky, "everything in the world's a pack of nonsense! Nature, fate, life itself: all are naught but worthless pelf!"

This tragic utterance made with due solemnity, the captain withdrew to his place. With tears in his eyes, Ivan Ignatyevich also embraced Grushnitsky, and now the latter remained alone facing me. To this day I have tried to explain to myself the emotion that then surged in my breast: it was the vexation of injured vanity, and contempt, and wrath born of the realization that this man, who was now eyeing me so coolly, with such calm insolence, two minutes before had sought to kill me like a dog without endangering himself in the slightest-for had I been wounded a little more severely in the leg, I would certainly have toppled over the cliff.

I looked him squarely in the face for a few minutes, trying to detect the slightest sign of repentance. Instead I thought I saw him suppressing a smile.

"I advise you to say your prayers before you die," I told him then.

"You need not be more concerned about my soul than about your own. I only beg of you to fire with the least delay."

"And you will not retract your slander? Or apologize to me? Think well, has your conscience nothing to say to you?"

"Mr Pechorin!" shouted the captain of dragoons. "You are not here to take confession, allow me to observe... Let us get it over and done with as quickly as possible. Someone might ride through the gorge and see us."

"Very well. Doctor, will you come to me?"

The doctor came over. Poor doctor! He was paler than Grushnitsky had been ten minutes before.

I spoke the following words with deliberation, loudly and distinctly, as sentences of death are pronounced: "Doctor, these gentlemen, no doubt in their haste, forgot to put a bullet into my pistol. Would you please reload it-and do it thoroughly!"

"It can't be!" cried the captain. "It can't be! I loaded both pistols; the bullet may have rolled out of yours... That's not my fault! And you have no right to reload... no right whatsoever... it is most decidedly against the rules. I will not allow it…"

"Very good!" I said to the captain. "In that case, you and I will shoot it out on the same terms... ."

He didn't know what to say.

Grushnitsky stood there, his head sunk on his breast, embarrassed and gloomy.

"Let them do as they wish!" he finally said to the captain, who was trying to grab my pistol from the doctor's hand. "You know yourself that they are right."

In vain did the captain make signs to him. Grushnitsky did not even look up.

Meanwhile the doctor loaded the pistol and handed it to me.

Seeing this, the captain spat and stamped his foot. "You are a fool, my friend," he said, "a darned fool. If you're counting on me, you should do everything I say... You're getting what you deserve, so go ahead and be wiped out like a fly!" He turned away, muttering: "But it's altogether against the rules."

"Grushnitsky!" said I. "There's still time; retract your false insult and I'll forgive you everything. You've failed to make a fool of me, and my vanity is satisfied. Remember that once we were friends..."

His face twisted with passion, his eyes flashed.

"Fire!" he replied. "I despise myself and hate you. If you don't kill me, I'll stab you in the back some night. The world is too small to hold us both…"

I fired.

When the smoke cleared, there was no Grushnitsky on the ledge. Only a thin pillar of dust curled over the brink of the precipice.

Everybody cried out at once.

" Finita la commedia ! [109] the comedy (play) is over. " I said to the doctor.

He did not reply, but turned away in horror.

I shrugged my shoulders and bowed to Grushnitsky's seconds.

As I came down the path I saw Grushnitsky's bloodstained corpse between the clefts in the rocks. Involuntarily I closed my eyes.