第12章 BELA(11)
- A Hero of Our Time
- Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov
- 4747字
- 2016-03-03 16:43:35
"Your honour,"one of the drivers said to me at length,"you see,we will never reach Kobi to-day.Won't you give orders to turn to the left while we can?There is something black yonder on the slope --probably huts.Travellers always stop there in bad weather,sir.They say,"he added,pointing to the Ossetes,"that they will lead us there if you will give them a tip.""I know that,my friend,I know that without your telling me,"said the staff-captain."Oh,these beasts!They are delighted to seize any pretext for extorting a tip!""You must confess,however,"I said,"that we should be worse off without them.""Just so,just so,"he growled to himself."Iknow them well --these guides!They scent out by instinct a chance of taking advantage of people.As if it was impossible to find the way without them!"Accordingly we turned aside to the left,and,somehow or other,after a good deal of trouble,made our way to the wretched shelter,which consisted of two huts built of stone slabs and rubble,surrounded by a wall of the same material.Our ragged hosts received us with alacrity.I learned afterwards that the Govern-ment supplies them with money and food upon condition that they put up travellers who are overtaken by storm.
CHAPTER VIII
"ALL is for the best,"I said,sitting down close by the fire."Now you will finish telling me your story about Bela.I am certain that what you have already told me was not the end of it.""Why are you so certain?"answered the staff-captain,winking and smiling slyly.
"Because things don't happen like that.Astory with such an unusual beginning must also have an unusual ending.""You have guessed,of course"...
"I am very glad to hear it."
"It is all very well for you to be glad,but,indeed,it makes me sad when I think of it.
Bela was a splendid girl.In the end I grew accustomed to her just as if she had been my own daughter,and she loved me.I must tell you that I have no family.I have had no news of my father and mother for twelve years or so,and,in my earlier days,I never thought of providing myself with a wife --and now,you know,it wouldn't do.So I was glad to have found someone to spoil.She used to sing to us or dance the Lezginka...And what a dancer she was!I have seen our own ladies in provincial society;and on one occasion,sir,about twenty years ago,I was even in the Nobles'Club at Moscow --but was there a woman to be com-pared with her?Not one!Grigori Aleksandro-vich dressed her up like a doll,petted and pampered her,and it was simply astonishing to see how pretty she grew while she lived with us.
The sunburn disappeared from her face and hands,and a rosy colour came into her cheeks...
What a merry girl she was!Always making fun of me,the little rogue!...Heaven forgive her!"Lezghian dance.
"And when you told her of her father's death?""We kept it a secret from her for a long time,until she had grown accustomed to her position;and then,when she was told,she cried for a day or two and forgot all about it.
"For four months or so everything went on as well as it possibly could.Grigori Aleksandro-vich,as I think I have already mentioned,was passionately fond of hunting;he was always craving to be off into the forest after boars or wild goats --but now it would be as much as he would do to go beyond the fortress rampart.
All at once,however,I saw that he was beginning again to have fits of abstraction,walking about his room with his hands clasped behind his back.
One day after that,without telling anyone,he set off shooting.During the whole morning he was not to be seen;then the same thing happened another time,and so on --oftener and oftener...
"'This looks bad!'I said to myself.'Some-thing must have come between them!'
"One morning I paid them a visit --I can see it all in my mind's eye,as if it was happening now.Bela was sitting on the bed,wearing a black silk jacket,and looking rather pale and so sad that I was alarmed.
"'Where is Pechorin?'I asked.
"'Hunting.'
"'When did he go --to-day?'
"'She was silent,as if she found a difficulty in answering.
"'No,he has been gone since yesterday,'she said at length,with a heavy sigh.
"'Surely nothing has happened to him!'
"'Yesterday I thought and thought the whole day,'she answered through her tears;'Iimagined all sorts of misfortunes.At one time I fancied that he had been wounded by a wild boar,at another time,that he had been carried off by a Chechene into the mountains...But,now,I have come to think that he no longer loves me.'
"'In truth,my dear girl,you could not have imagined anything worse!'
"She burst out crying;then,proudly raising her head,she wiped away the tears and con-tinued:
"'If he does not love me,then who prevents him sending me home?I am not putting any constraint on him.But,if things go on like this,I will go away myself --I am not a slave,I am a prince's daughter!'...
"I tried to talk her over.
"'Listen,Bela.You see it is impossible for him to stop in here with you for ever,as if he was sewn on to your petticoat.He is a young man and fond of hunting.Off he'll go,but you will find that he will come back;and,if you are going to be unhappy,you will soon make him tired of you.'
"'True,true!'she said.'I will be merry.'
"And with a burst of laughter,she seized her tambourine,began to sing,dance,and gambol around me.But that did not last long either;she fell upon the bed again and buried her face in her hands.
"What could I do with her?You know I
have never been accustomed to the society of women.I thought and thought how to cheer her up,but couldn't hit on anything.For some time both of us remained silent...A most unpleasant situation,sir!
"At length I said to her:
"'Would you like us to go and take a walk on the rampart?The weather is splendid.'