The fencing master, p.7
THE FENCING MASTER, page 7
“And what happened?” I ejaculated.
“He gave the slave her freedom, married her to a peasant and warned the Minister that if his favourite repeated any such performance he would send her to Siberia.”
“Had it the desired effect?”
“Yes. I have not heard anything against her for some time past. But, come, I and my affairs are monopolizing the conversation; let us hear your news. May I claim to know as a compatriot what has brought you to St. Petersburg. Perhaps, as I have been in residence here for the last three years, I may be able to help you with some advice.”
“I rather doubt it, but no matter. Since you have heard enough to take an interest in me, I may as well say that I am here in the capacity of a fencing master. Is there much duelling in St. Petersburg?”
“No, because duels almost always end fatally. Since there is an almost certain prospect of Siberia both for principals and seconds, they only fight when matters are really serious and the issue must be fought to the death. However you will have plenty of pupils; but I can give you one piece of advice.”
“What is that?”
“Try to obtain from the Emperor a nomination as fencing-master of some regiment; that will give you a military footing, for of course you are aware that uniform is everything here.”
“Very good advice, but easier to give than to follow.”
“Why so?”
“How can I obtain an audience of the Emperor? I am without any interest in this city.”
“I will think about that.”
“You will?”
“Are you surprised?” said Louise with a smile.
“No, Madam, nothing can astonish me as regards yourself, and you are charming enough to realize all you undertake. Only I have done nothing to deserve such consideration.
“You have done nothing? Are you not a fellow countryman? Have you not brought me a letter from my darling Rose? have you not, by reminding me of my beloved Paris, given me one of the pleasantest hours that I have yet spent in St. Petersburg. I hope I shall see you again.”
“You mean that?”
“When?”
“To-morrow, if you will allow me.”
“Yes, at the same hour, I can spare more time then for a good chat.”
“Very good, to-morrow at the same hour.”
I left Louise, enchanted with her, and already feeling that I was no longer alone in St. Petersburg. Rather a precarious prop it is true, to be dependent on a young girl without influence, as she seemed to be, but there is something so sweet in the friendship ‘of a woman that the first feeling to which it gives birth is hope.
I dined at a restaurant opposite Louise’s shop, kept by a Frenchman called Talon, but without the least desire to speak to any of my fellow countrymen, who betray their origin wherever they may be by their high-pitched voices and their marvellous facility for discussing their private affairs out loud. Besides my own thoughts were quite enough for me and I should have resented any conversation as an attempt to deprive me of my dreams.
As on the previous evening I hired a two-oared gondola, and spent the night reclining on my cloak, intoxicated with the sweet music of the horns, and never weary of counting the numbers of the stars.
Again I returned at two o’clock in the morning and slept till seven. As I wanted to make a clean sweep of the sights of St. Petersburg in order to direct more time to my own affairs, I ordered my valet to engage a drosky on the same terms as before and I started to visit all that remained for me to see, — from the Monastery of St. Alexander Nevski, with its silver tomb on which are life-size figures in the attitude of prayer, to the Academy of Science, famed for its collection of minerals, the globe of Gottorp presented by Frederick IV. King of Denmark to Peter the Great, and the mammoth, coeval with the deluge, found in the glaciers of the White Sea by Michael Adam the explorer.
Everything was very interesting, yet none the less I kept looking at my watch every few minutes to see if it was time to pay my visit to Louise.
At length as four o’clock approached, I could restrain myself no longer; I told the man to drive to the Nevski Prospect where I thought I would take a stroll till five. But opposite the Catherine canal, it was impossible for my drosky to move, so great was the press of people. Crowds are so rare in St. Petersburg, that, as I had nearly reached my destination I paid my driver and leapt to the ground mingling with the swarm of sight-seers. It appeared that a thief who had just been arrested by Monsieur Gorgoli, the chief of the Police, was being escorted to prison. The strange circumstances which accompanied the theft accounted for the curiosity of the crowd.
Although M. Gorgoli, one of the handsomest men in the capital, and one of the bravest generals in the army, was of an unusually distinguished appearance, fate had decreed that one of the cleverest swindlers in St. Petersburg should bear him a close resemblance. The rascal determined to make the most of the striking likeness; so, to make the similarity more complete, our Sosia dons the uniform of a Major-General, wraps himself in a gray cloak with a high collar, prepares a drosky exactly like the one M. Gorgoli is accustomed to use, completes the resemblance by hiring a pair of horses of the same colour and having himself driven by a coachman dressed exactly like the General’s, pulls up at a rich tradesman’s in a principal street, then hurrying into the establishment he addresses the shopkeeper as follows: —
“Sir, you know me, of course, I am General Gorgoli, the head of the Police.”
“Yes, your Excellency.”
“Well, at the present moment, a very important business transaction necessitates the sum of 25,000 roubles in hard cash; it is too far to go back to the office, for the least delay may spoil everything. Lend me 25,000 roubles, I beg, and come to-morrow morning to my house for repayment.”
“Your Excellency,” cried the tradesman, only too pleased to render such a service, “with the greatest pleasure in the world; will you have more?”
“Well, make it thirty thousand.”
“There you are, Sir.”
“Thanks, nine o’clock to-morrow at my house.” So saying he jumps into his drosky and gallops off in the direction of the summer garden.
On the morrow the merchant presents himself at M. Gorgoli’s, who receives him with his customary politeness, and since his guest seems in no hurry to explain his visit, he asks him what he wants.
This question disconcerts the tradesman, who, in addition, now that he examines the General close at hand, fancies he detects some differences between him and the individual who presented himself in his name the day before. A moment later he cries out, “Your Excellency, I have been robbed.” And then he recounts the audacious trick by which he had been victimized. M. Gorgoli listens without interrupting; but when he has finished, the General calls for his gray coat and orders his chestnut horse to be put in the drosky, then having received a further detailed account of the affair, he invites the merchant to wait for him at his house, while he gives chase to the thief.
M. Gorgoli drives to the street indicated, starts from the tradesman’s shop, follows the direction taken by the thief, and hailing a butchnick (a police officer guarding the road), says: —
“Yesterday I drove past here at three o’clock in the afternoon, did you see me?”
“Yes, your Excellency.”
“Which way did I go?”
“In the direction of the Troitskoï bridge.”
“Quite right.”
Then the General hurries on towards the bridge and hails the sentinel guarding its approach.
“I drove past here at ten minutes past three yesterday; you saw me?”
“Yes, your Excellency.”
“Which way did I go?”
“Your Excellency crossed the bridge.”
“Quite so.”
On reaching the other end of the bridge he stops before the cabin of Peter the Great. The sentry who was in his box rushes out.
“I drove past here at half-past three yesterday,” said the General.
“Yes, your Excellency.”
“Did you notice where I went?”
“To the Viborg quarter.”
“Right.”
M. Gorgoli continues his quest, resolved to follow the clue to the bitter end. At the corner of the Military hospital he comes across another sentry and cross-questions him. It seems that he went in the direction of the spirit warehouses. The General follows, and leaving the spirit warehouses, crosses the Voskresenskoi’ bridge. From the bridge he makes a bee line for the end of the Grand Prospect; from the end of the Grand Prospect he proceeded as far as the last shop, near the Bank and Assignations Office. For the last time M. Gorgoli enquires of a sentry.
“I passed by this spot at half-past four yesterday?” said he.
“Yes, your Excellency.”
“Where did I go, then?”
“To No. 19 by the corner of the Catherine canal.”
“Did I go in?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see me come out again?”
“No.”
“Very well. Get another man to take your place, and go and look for a couple of soldiers in the nearest barracks.”
“Yes, your Excellency.”
The sentry runs off and returns in ten minutes with the two soldiers.
The General presents himself with his escort at No. 19, orders all the doors to be shut, questions the concierge, finds out that the man he is seeking for is lodging on the second floor, climbs the stairs, kicks down the door and finds himself face to face with his double, who, alarmed at the visit and suspecting its object, confesses everything and hands over the thirty thousand roubles.
Thus it is evident that St. Petersburg is not one whit less civilized than Paris.
This incident, in the dénoûement of which I was assisting caused me to lose or rather gain twenty minutes; it was now nearly twenty minutes to the time when Louise would be expecting me.
I set off. The nearer I approached her, the more violently my heart began to beat, and when at length I asked if she were in, my voice was trembling so that to make myself understood I had to repeat my question.
Louise was awaiting me in the boudoir.
CHAPTER V
WHEN she saw me enter she nodded a welcome with the graceful familiarity characteristic of Frenchwomen, then taking my hand she made me sit by her as on my previous visit.
“Well,” said she, “I have been looking after your business.”
“On! “I replied with an expression which caused her to smile. “Do not let us talk of me, but of you.”
“Of me? What has all this to do with me? Is it I who am on the look out for the post of fencing master in one of his Majesty’s regiments? Of me? What can you say about me?”
“I can say, that since yesterday you have made me the happiest of men, that since yesterday I can think of no one but you, that I have not slept a single moment, and that I thought the hour for seeing you once more would never come.”
“Why you are making me a formal declaration.”
“On my faith, take it as you like; I have said not only what I think, but what I can prove.”
“You are joking?”
“No, on my honour.”
“You are speaking seriously?”
“Quite seriously.”
“Well, since after all it is possible,” said Louise, “and since the avowal, though premature, is perhaps none the less sincere, it is my duty not to let you proceed farther.”
“Why so?”
“My dear compatriot, it is impossible that there can be anything but the noblest and purest friendship between us.”
“On what grounds?
“Because I have a fiancé; and my sister has already taught you that faithfulness is a vice in our family.”
“Well, I am unlucky.”
“No, you are not. If I had allowed the sentiment which you feel towards me to strike deeper roots, instead of tearing it up before it had time to reach your heart, you might have become so; but, thank God,” added Louise with a smile, “no time has been lost and I hope that the disease has been checked before it has made any great strides.”
“Let us say no more about it.”
“On the contrary let us talk of it, for as you will meet here the man to whom I am engaged, it is important that you should know how I came to love him.”
“I am grateful for so much confidence.”
“You are huffed, and you are wrong. Come, give me your hand like a true friend.”
I took the hand Louise extended, and as I certainly had no right to bear her any grudge! “You are true and loyal,” said I.
“That is right.”
“No doubt,” acquiesced I, “it is some Prince?”
“No, I am not so ambitious as all that; to tell the truth he is only a Count.”
“Ah! Rose, Rose,” I cried, “do not come to St. Petersburg, or you will forget M. Auguste!”
“You are accusing me without having heard me,” answered Louise, “and that is wrong of you; that is why I wanted to tell you everything, but you would not be a Frenchman if you had not already judged me.”
“Happily your penchant for Russians makes me think that you are a trifle unjust towards your fellow countrymen.”
“I am not unjust towards anyone, Sir; I make comparisons, that is all. Every nation has its faults, which it does not recognise, because they are part and parcel of its nature; but they stare other people in the face. No doubt our besetting sin is levity. A Russian who has received a visit from one of our fellow-countrymen never says to another Russian, — ’ A Frenchman has been to see me.’ He says, — ’A lunatic has been here.’ There is no need to mention the nationality of the lunatic, everyone knows it is a Frenchman.”
“Are the Russians then faultless?”
“Certainly not; but it is hardly for folks who claim their hospitality to note their defects.”
“Thanks for the lesson.”
“My goodness, it is not a lesson, it is a piece of advice. You have come with the intention of settling here, have you not? make friends then and not enemies.”
“You are right, as always.”
“I was just like you myself? did I not swear that not one of these fine gentlemen, so humble in the presence of the Czar, so unbearable towards their inferiors, would ever be anything to me? Well, I have broken my vow; beware lest you follow my example.”
“And knowing your character, though I never saw you till yesterday, the struggle must have been a long one,” said I to Louise.
“Yes it was, and not only that but tragic.”
“You evidently expect my curiosity will get the better of my jealousy.”
“I cannot say; I want you to learn the truth, that is all.”
“Speak then, I am all attention.”
“I was, as the superscription of Rose’s letter must have informed you, at Madame Xavier’s, the most famous dressmaker in St. Petersburg, who numbers among her customers the cream of society. Thanks to my youth, my reputation for beauty and especially my nationality, compliments and even proposals were not wanting, as you may suppose. Yet, I assure you that though the declarations and compliments were often accompanied by most brilliant promises, none of these made the least impression on me, and all were thrown into the fire. Eighteen months passed by.”
“About two years ago a carriage drawn by four horses stopped in front of the shop; two young ladies, a young officer and a middle aged lady got out. The young man was a Lieutenant in the Horse Guards and quartered in St. Petersburg; but his mother and two sisters lived at Moscow. They were going to spend the three summer months together, and their first business on arriving was to pay a visit to Madame Javier, the great arbiter of fashion; no lady with any pretensions to smartness could enter society except under her tutelage. The two girls were charming; as for the youth, I hardly noticed him, though during his short visit he appeared to be much interested in me. When her shopping was finished, the lady gave me her address: — Countess Vaninkov, on the Fontalka canal.
“Next day the young man came alone; he wanted to know if we had taken in hand the orders left by his mother and sisters, and he made a point of speaking to me, asking me to change the colour of a ribbon.
“The same evening I received a letter signed Alexis Vaninkov; needless to say it contained a declaration, like all similar epistles; but I detected an air of refinement about it. No promise was made; though hopeful that he would win my heart, he did not propose to purchase it.
“There are certain occasions when an over display of modesty appears ridiculous; if I had been a young lady of birth, I should have returned Count Alexis his letter unread. Being nothing but a poor grisette I first read the letter, then burnt it.
“Next day the Count called again; his sisters and mother wanted some hats and left the selection to him. Just as he entered I took the opportunity of slipping into Madame Xavier’s room, and did not return to the shop until he had left.
“In the evening I received another letter. The writer said he had still one hope — that I had not received his earlier note. Like the previous one, I left it unanswered.
“On the morrow I received a third note. I was struck by the tone of this one, so different from the others. From the first line to the last it was impressed with a trait of melancholy — not as I expected the irritability of a child who clamours in vain for a toy, but rather the despair of a man who abandons his last hope.
“He had made up his mind, if his letter were unanswered, that he would ask for leave from the Emperor and spend the next four months with his mother and sisters in Moscow. My silence left him free to do as he thought proper. Six weeks later I received a letter dated from Moscow and containing these words: —
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