The fencing master, p.30
THE FENCING MASTER, page 30
As may be imagined the conversation centered on Vaninkov’s exile and the devotion of Louise. No one knew how he was situated in the depths of Siberia, whether he was free or a prisoner; while the approach of winter, during which the thermometer, in the northern regions, registers sometimes as many as forty or forty-five degrees, aroused the most vivid anxieties in the minds of the poor women who knew that Count Alexis was accustomed, like the majority of the young and wealthy Russian noblemen, to all the comforts of luxury and the gratifications of the East. So under the pretence of mitigating the severity of Vaninkov’s exile, they had already offered Louise, in a thousand different disguises, a real fortune; but excepting furs, she refused everything, saying that Vaninkov was chiefly in need of love, care, and devotion, and that she was taking him a perfect treasure house of all three.
I likewise received my full share of offers but refused them like Louise. Though I allowed myself to be tempted by a Turkish sabre which had belonged to the Count and was valuable more from its fine temper than its mounting.
In spite of my fatigue after travelling for two days and two nights, this excellent family, who fancied they saw in us something of him whom they had lost, kept us up till midnight. At last at twelve o’clock I got permission to retire. It had been decided in the morning that Louise was not to return to the hotel and they had immediately prepared for her the finest room in the house.
Before leaving Ivan I had told him that on the morrow I wished to lunch at Petroski, so at seven o’clock in the morning he was at the door with a drosky. It must be understood that I was about to undertake a pilgrimage. Napoleon retired to Petroski for three days during the burning of Moscow.
Three quarters of an hour after leaving the hotel we got to the palace, which gives its name to a delightful village composed almost entirely of the magnificent country houses of the richest gentlemen in Moscow. It is a building of curious design, which, by its modern singularity, seeks to imitate the style of the old Tartar palaces. Before getting there, I passed through a little wood, where, in the midst of black pines, I greeted with almost childish glee some beautiful green oaks, which reminded me of our grand forests in France.
On leaving the palace Ivan, who had left me for a few minutes to order lunch at the inn, came back to tell me with joy that by a lucky chance, some gipsies were on a visit to Petroski this year. I had heard of the passion displayed by the great Russian noblemen for these tzigani, who are to them what the almehs are to the Egyptians, or what the nautch-girls are to India, so after sounding my pockets I decided to give myself a princely pleasure after lunch. I therefore told Ivan to take me to the gipsies’ quarters, being curious to see for myself both the persons and the dwellings of these descendants of the Copts and the Nubians.
Ivan stopped in front of one of the handsomest houses in the village, which had been chosen by the Tzigani for a resting-place; but they were not at home as they had had engagements during the night at various mansions and had not yet returned. This answer was brought to us by a Maltese girl who was in their service and could speak a little Italian. I asked her if there was any objection to our inspecting the house in the absence of her masters. She told us to come in and the door of their sanctuary was opened.
The large room into which I was introduced was about thirty feet long and twenty wide. On both sides were placed beds covered with mattresses, rugs and coverlets, much better and particularly much cleaner than those generally found on Russian beds. Even the beds bore evidence of the oriental origin of those who used them; for on some of them I counted as many as six or eight different kinds of cushions. Some were like long bolsters, others like pillows were about the size of the little square footstool used by our ladies. At the head of each bed were hung the instruments, weapons or jewels of him or her to whom the bed belonged.
After making the round of this curious dormitory two or three times, seeing that the Tzigani did not return, I told their servant that though I should be glad to receive four or five of the gipsies during lunch, yet I feared they would be too tired to come as they had spent the night out. But the girl reassured me, saying that I might rely on the first that returned, and however fatigued they were, they would rest later.
The proprietor of the restaurant where Ivan had ordered lunch was a Frenchman who had remained in the country after the retreat, thinking to make use of his talents, for he had been chef to the Prince of Neuchatel.
In Russia cooks and teachers can always rely on very quickly getting a situation; so, on the strength of his knowledge, he at once entered the service of a Russian prince. The situation was a good one; and at the end of seven or eight years he retired with a considerable sum and established this restaurant where he was in a fair way to make a fortune. The worthy proprietor, knowing that he was entertaining a compatriot, had done his best for me, and I found a magnificent lunch served in the finest room in his establishment. So much luxury made me tremble for my purse, but I resolved that I would spend the day like a lord and that Ivan should share in my lavish display.
We had reached the dessert and I was beginning to abandon all hope of seeing the gipsies, when our host came up himself to tell us that they were downstairs. I immediately ordered them to be brought in and I saw two men and three women make their appearance.
At first sight, I must confess I could hardly understand the passion displayed by the Russians for these curious creatures, from whom the famous Count Tolstoï and Prince Gagarin selected lawful wives. Two of them did not seem to me at all pretty; as to the third who displayed herself with the confidence due to the superiority of her beauty or talent, she gave me the impression, like her companions, of a kind of wild animal in human shape, rather than a woman. Her black eyes heavy with fatigue, had the wild look of a gazelle just awakened, while her copper-coloured skin reminded me of a serpent. Beneath her livid lips her white teeth gleamed like pearls, while beneath her wide Turkish trousers peeped the feet of a child, the smallest and most elegant I had ever seen. Moreover all of them, both men and women looked worn out, and I feared that they had overstrained themselves for the love of money and I began to regret that instead of sleeping later they had not gone to sleep sooner.
The eldest of the men, who seemed to exercise a patriarchal authority over the troop, sat down, with his guitar in hand, on one of those gigantic stoves which take up pretty well a third of the floor space of every decently comfortable room, and while he struck a few preliminary chords on his instrument, the other man and the two women crouched at his feet. The prettiest and most elegant of the three women remained standing alone, almost on the point of collapsing, with her knees slightly bent and her head resting on her shoulder, like a bird seeking the shelter of its wing before going to sleep.
Presently the uncertain sounds gave way to harmonies, and striking in after a chord, and without any other preparation, the guitar player suddenly started a canzon or rather a cantata, lively, full of feeling and loud, which, after a few beats, the two women and the man crouching on the floor, hailed with a chorus, during which the gipsy who had remained standing, seemed to wake up, nodding her head gently as if to mark the cadence; then, when the chorus was over, she produced from this collection of notes, if I may use such an expression, a sweet little song, elegant and rhythmical, finishing with a flourish of short high notes with marvellous precision and of a curious charm; then the chorus replied and on the chorus she grafted afresh her soft and melodious improvisation. Then once again, after another spell by the chorus she made a third reply, always with the same precision and the same sweetness, as if she were engaged in composing a bouquet with three coloured flowers and different scents, then the chorus once more took up their refrain and ended it smorzando; it almost seemed as if the performers were dying from exhaustion with the final note, which was drawn out like a sigh.
I cannot describe the profoundly acute impression produced upon me by this wild but wonderfully melodious song. It was as if I had suddenly heard in one of our parks, frequented by nightingales and warblers, some unknown bird from the virgin forests of America, singing not for men but for nature and God. I remained absolutely still with my eyes fixed on the singer, hardly able to breathe, and my heart gripped with pain. Suddenly the guitar sparkled beneath the fingers of the old gipsy with trembling chords, the women and the man who were crouching leapt from their places and sprang to their feet; a few lively notes were the signal for the dance, and joining hands, the three Bohemians began to circle round the dancer, surrounding her with outstretched aims, while she, rocking herself to and fro, seemed to gradually wake up until at length the others suddenly stopped short, while she broke the chain that had confined her, and commenced a series of wild leaps and bounds.
The steps executed by the Bohemian partook at first more of the nature of a pantomime than a dance. As a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis and finding for the first time room to expand its wings, appears to flutter aimlessly and on the point of settling on the nearest object; she made with her little feet such amazing and yet such elegant steps, that she appeared to be suspended by a wire, like a fairy at the opera. All this while her limbs, which I had imagined to be in a state of collapse, had assumed the suppleness and strength of a gazelle’s; her eyes which had seemed so heavy with sleep, were now fully awake and flashing fire; her lips, which at first she appeared scarce able to open, were now raised lasciviously at the two corners of her mouth, and exposed to view, like rims of pearls, two magnificent rows of teeth: the butterfly was transformed into a woman, and the woman into a raving Bacchante.
Then as if he were himself carried away by the strains of the guitar and allured to the pursuit of the Bohemian, the man likewise jumped up and touched her on the shoulder with his lips; the young savage bounded to one side with a loud cry as if she had been touched by a red hot iron. Then there began between them a kind of circular race in which the woman appeared to gradually lose her desire to escape; at length she stopped, stood face to face with her partner and commenced a dance which represented a combination of the Pyrrhic of Greece, the Jaleo of Spain and the Chica of America; it was both a flight and a provocation, a struggle in which the woman kept escaping like a snake and the man ever pursued her like a tiger. All this time the music kept increasing in volume; the other two women uttered cries and leapt about like amorous hyenas, beating the ground with their feet, and clapping their hands like cymbals; and finally dancers and singers, male and female, having apparently utterly exhausted their strength, uttered a mingled cry of exhaustion, rage and love; the two women and the man fell on the floor, and the beautiful Bohemian, making a final effort, threw herself on to my knees at a moment when I was least expecting it, and encircling me with her arms like two snakes, she pressed upon my lips hers, perfumed with I know not what Oriental cosmetic.
This was her way of asking what was due to her for the marvellous spectacle she had just given me.
I emptied my pockets upon the table, and it was very lucky I had only two or three hundred roubles; if I had possessed a fortune I should have given it to her.
I understand now the passion of the Russians for the gipsies.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE nearer the time came for Louise to depart, the more an idea, which had already entered my mind more than once, kept assailing my heart and my conscience if I may express myself so. I had been told in Moscow of the difficulties the journey to Tobolsk offers at this season of the year, and all to whom I spoke on the subject had assured me that it was not only difficulties which Louise would have to conquer, but real perils that she must surmount. From all this it is easy to understand that I was tormented with the idea of abandoning thus in her devotion a poor woman, eight hundred leagues from her own country, from which she was about to separate herself by another nine hundred leagues, without family, without relatives, without any friend but myself. The share I had taken in her joys and griefs during the eighteen months I had spent at St. Petersburg; the patronage which had been accorded me by Count Alexis through her instrumentality, to whose recommendation was really due the position the Emperor had thought fit to bestow upon me; and more than all that, the voice within which shows a man his duty in all the important crises of life, where his interest is opposed to his conscience, clearly told me that I ought to accompany Louise to the termination of her journey and deliver her into the hands of Alexis. Besides I considered that if I left her at Moscow and any accident happened to her on the way, it would not only be very painful to me but also a matter of remorse. I therefore decided (for I was under no misapprehension as to the inconveniences such a journey would involve considering my position, as I had not obtained leave from the Emperor, and my motive might very possibly be misinterpreted), I decided to do everything in my power to persuade Louise to delay her journey till the spring, but if she persisted in her resolve to go with her.
The opportunity shortly arose of making a fresh attempt to bring Louise to my way of thinking. That very evening as the Countess, her two daughters, Louise and myself were seated round a tea table, the Countess seized her by the hands and telling her all she had heard as to the dangers of the journey, she begged her, in spite of her own longings as a mother that her son should be comforted, to spend the winter at Moscow with her and her daughters. I profited by this opening and joined my entreaties to hers; but Louise invariably replied with her gentle sad smile: — ” Be calm, I shall manage.” We then implored her to wait at least till the sleighing season began; but she shook her head again saying, “It will be too long to wait.” In fact the autumn was damp and rainy, so that it was impossible to say when the cold weather would set in. As we continued to press her she answered with some impatience, “Do you want him to die out there and me here?” It was quite clear that she had made up her mind, so I also hesitated no longer.
Louise was to start the next morning at ten o’clock, after breakfast which the Countess had asked us to take with her. I got up early and went out to buy a travelling coat and cap, a pair of heavy fur boots, a carbine and a brace of pistols. I instructed Ivan to pack everything into the carriage, which, as I have already said, was an excellent post-chaise, which we should no doubt be obliged to abandon later on and take to a telega or a sleigh, though we expected to make good use of it while the weather and the roads permitted us. I wrote to the Emperor that seeing the woman to whom he had granted his generous protection on the point of setting forth on a long and dangerous journey, I, her fellow-countryman and friend, had not the courage to let her start alone; and I therefore begged his Majesty to grant me a permit, as I had not been able to ask for his consent, seeing that my resolve had been taken on the spur of the moment, beseeching him to look upon my motives in the true light. This done I set out for the Countess’s.
The breakfast, as may be supposed, was a sad and solemn function. Louise only was radiant; there was in her, at the near approach of danger and at the thought of the reward destined to follow it, something akin to the religious enthusiasm of the early Christians ready to descend into the amphitheatre, above which Heaven lay open to them; moreover her quiet confidence took possession of me, and like her I was full of hope and faith in God.
The Countess and her daughters accompanied Louise into the courtyard, where the carriage was waiting; there the most tender and sorrowful farewells were exchanged between them, though with more resignation so far as Louise was concerned; then came my turn; she stretched out her hand to me and I led her to the carriage.
“Well,” she said, “are not you going to say good-bye?”
I Why should I?” I answered.
“Why, because I am on the point of starting.”
“And I also.”
“What! you also?”
“Certainly, you know the Persian poet’s pebble which was not the flower, but had always rested near it.”
“Well?”
“Well, your devotion has affected me, I intend to go with you, hand you over to the Count safe and sound, and then come back.”
Louise made a movement as if to prevent me, then after a moment’s silence, she said: “I have no right to prevent you from performing a noble and Christian act; if you believe in God as I do, if you are as resolved as I am, come.”
Just then I felt someone seize hold of my hand and kiss it; it was the poor mother; as for the girls they were in tears.
“Cheer up,” I said, “he shall hear from me that the reason you have not come is because you cannot do so.”
“Oh! yes! tell him that!” cried the mother, “tell him that we asked for leave, but we were told that no similar permission had ever been granted; tell him that if we had been allowed, we should have found our way to him, if necessary either on foot or by begging along the roadside.”
“We will tell him what he knows already, that you have a real mother’s heart and that is enough.”
“Bring me my child!” cried Louise who had maintained her equanimity till that minute but burst into sobs when she heard these words: “bring me my child, that I may give him a last embrace.”
This was the hardest moment of all; the child was brought to her and she smothered it with kisses; at last I snatched it from her arms, handed it to the Countess and jumping into the carriage shut the door, calling out: — ” All right.” Ivan was already on the box; the postilion did not want telling twice but drove off at a gallop and amid the rattling of the wheels over the pavé we all for the last time exchanged good-byes, shouting farewells and receiving their wishes for a good journey. Ten minutes later we had left Moscow behind us.
I had informed Ivan that it was our intention to travel day and night, and now Louise’s impatience was on the side of prudence for as I have already said, the autumn was unusually wet and it was possible that we might get to Tobolsk before the first snowfall; thus all danger in the journey would be removed and we might accomplish it in a fortnight. We passed, with the rapidity characteristic of travelling in Russia, Pokrov, Vladimir and Kurov, and on the evening of the second day we reached Nijin-Novgorod.
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