It was this last consideration which led me, on the night after our arrival, to offer my help to the others who were waiting and serving at the grand ball given to the general and the bridegroom that was to be. I had determined that I would see all that was to be seen; and when I had dressed Sir Nicolas, I found it useful to hang about the corridors and the entrance to the ballroom. In this way I had a good view of the old general himself when he arrived about eight o'clock—a fine, noble-looking old fellow, who carried his years like feathers, and had kindness and courage written all over his splendid face. I thought at the time that Miss Marya didn't exactly burst into tears when she saw him; and this I will say now, that she, and she alone, was responsible for all that happened that night, and afterward. She gave him the cold-shoulder from the start of it; she danced three times running with the count, and twice with Sir Nicolas. I don't believe she spoke five words to her intended from the time he arrived until the doors of the dining-room were thrown open for supper. You could see with half an eye that a storm was brewing, and burst it did with a vengeance not ten minutes after midnight had struck.
Up to this time the general had kept his temper like a man. In all that great ballroom, sparkling with lights, and jewels, and wonderful gowns and dazzling uniforms, there was no finer fellow than he. While swaggering Guards in snow-white tunics clustered round him, and Cossacks aired their splendid coats, and little whipper-snappers danced about all sprinkled over with gold and jewels, he was the man of the evening. Upright, a good six feet in his shoes, wearing a dark-green uniform that fitted his figure like a glove, there was always a kindly smile about his eyes, and a manliness in his bearing which did you good to see. Not once in that long evening did he betray himself by look or gesture. Even when the girl he was to marry passed him on another man's arm, and gave him one of her impudent nods, he merely bowed to her and went on smiling. Only when supper-time came did he push himself forward at all—and then it was to offer her his arm that he might take her into the dining-room.
Now, in the scene that followed, whether the girl acted as she did because she disliked the man, or whether it was pure devilry on her part, I have never been able to convince myself. All I can say is that when the general stepped up to Marya and offered her his arm, she turned away from him to the count; and so the two men were face to face almost at the doorway where I stood.
I write that they were face to face, the old man still smiling, the young one hot with anger and with excitement. But it was the count who spoke first, and in French, as all the folks in the ballroom did that night.
"I am sorry, general," said he, bowing with a sneering politeness which made you mad to see, "but mademoiselle is pledged to me for supper."
"Indeed," said the other, "and by what right, monsieur?"
"Oh, that is a question I should not discuss here!"
"Nor I," replied the general, speaking low and bending down toward him. In the same moment I saw the old fellow flick the count on the right cheek with his glove. Five minutes later his carriage was taking him back to Novgorod.
CHAPTER XIX
SIR NICOLAS PLAYS A PART
There is no need for me to tell you all that followed this bitter little scene. It was just as though you had opened the windows of the ballroom and let in the falling snow. While not more than ten people had witnessed the mishap, the story of it was round the house before half an hour had passed. It broke up the ball like a death might have done. I saw Mme. Pouzatòv herself being led up to her bedroom. Her daughter still carried on defiantly with the count, but it was plain that she was scared and half sorry. The others made haste to call their carriages, or formed little groups to discuss the thing with gesture. The servants crept about like mutes at a funeral. We all knew that the night could end but in one way. The men must fight.
It was broad daylight that morning before any of us got to bed. As for myself, I don't believe I took my clothes off. Not that I cared a penny piece whether the general shot the count, or the count shot the general; but there was so much excitement and talk and running here and there, that sleep was far from my eyes. And so it was with my master. I went to his bedroom at eight o'clock, and found him still in his uniform, sitting at his writing-table and drinking coffee. Though he spoke careless enough, you could see that he was shaking to his finger-tips with excitement; and after I'd heard him out, I knew well where he came into it.
"Hildebrand," said he, "I'm to drive to Novgorod in an hour. The count has asked me to act for him."
"Then they are to meet, sir?" said I.
"Was any other course possible?" cried he. "’Tis not with bank-clerks or bishops that we're dealing, but with gentlemen that have gentlemen's means for their quarrels!"
"But the general is his superior officer; the count can't fight with him, sir—at least, that's the talk below."
"Which is nonsense, ye may tell them from me. 'Tis a case where we'll have to get permission from the authorities, and that will not be refused. Sure, the lady is likely to be looking for a husband when the week is gone."
"What about the count in that case, sir?"
He looked at me slyly, as he could sometimes.
"I doubt that she'll marry the count," said he, and that was all.
That was all, but if he thought that I did not read up the rest, he must have taken me for a fool. "Nicky," said I to myself, "you're playing for your own hand. She won't marry the general now, any way. If he shoots the count, you're alone in the field. And there's twenty thousand goes with her, so you might do worse than that."
It was a new idea to me entirely; and I must say that it stuck in my head all that morning, and was still there when he, and the two that had been with him, came home from Novgorod about six in the evening. The day had been a miserable one, wet and cold and chill; the house was quiet as the grave. Not once, the whole morning through, did I see Miss M&rya or her mother. The guests who had remained overnight went away after breakfast. The only conversation was the question whether the count would kill the general, or the general kill the count. And I, who had not cared a snap the day before, found myself as busy thinking about it as the rest of them. For if the count fell—Sir Nicolas would stay in Russia. I would have staked my life upon that. '
My master came home at six o'clock, as I have said; and his first words to me told what he had done.
"I have a case of pistols in my bag," said he, "and I would be glad to know if they're to be trusted. You may amuse yourself for ten minutes knocking the bark off the trees with them."
"Then it's pistols they've chosen, sir?"
"’Tis so, and the old Muscovite conditions—fifteen paces, and a line to come up to. You'll be ready to leave with me at dawn."
"Do you drive far, sir?"
"Four miles to the woods we passed in the carriage on the road here. The count goes with us. Whether he'll return, God only knows. I'm thinking that he won't."
I didn't say so to him, but I knew that if ever the wish was father to the thought, here was the time. Only let the count go down in the morning, and the field was open to him. What would happen if it turned out the other way, I could not think. But I had a suspicion that, even then, Sir Nicolas was the only one who would get any thing by the move; and I wasn't far wrong, as you will learn presently.
The meeting had been fixed for dawn, as you have heard; but the fact was kept close by those who took the lead, and I don't believe that Mme. Pouzatòv or her daughter knew a word about it. As for the count, he had spent the day in the house of the village priest; and I saw nothing of him until dinner