The Daughter of the Commandant

"You deign to tell me," said he, "that you wish to kill Alexey Ivanytch,

and that I am to be witness? Is not that what you mean, if I may presume

to ask you?"

"Exactly."

"But, good heavens, Petr' Andrejitch, what folly have you got in your

head? You and Alexey Ivanytch have insulted one another; well, a fine

affair! You needn't wear an insult hung round your neck. He has said

silly things to you, give him some impertinence; he in return will give

you a blow, give him in return a box on the ear; he another, you

another, and then you part. And presently we oblige you to make peace.

Whereas now--is it a good thing to kill your neighbour, if I may presume

to ask you? Even if it were you who should kill him! May heaven be

with him, for I do not love him. But if it be he who is to run you

through, you will have made a nice business of it. Who will pay for the

broken pots, allow me to ask?"

The arguments of the prudent officer did not deter me. My resolution

remained firm.

"As you like," said Iwan Ignatiitch, "do as you please; but what good

should I do as witness? People fight; what is there extraordinary in

that, allow me to ask? Thank heaven I have seen the Swedes and the

Turks at close quarters, and I have seen a little of everything."

I endeavoured to explain to him as best I could the duty of a second,

but I found Iwan Ignatiitch quite unmanageable.

"Do as you like," said he; "if I meddled in the matter, it would be to

go and tell Ivan Kouzmitch, according to the rules of the service, that

a criminal deed is being plotted in the fort, in opposition to the

interests of the crown, and remark to the Commandant how advisable it

would be that he should think of taking the necessary measures."

I was frightened, and I begged Iwan Ignatiitch not to say anything to

the Commandant. With great difficulty I managed to quiet him, and at

last made him promise to hold his tongue, when I left him in peace.

As usual I passed the evening at the Commandant's. I tried to appear

lively and unconcerned in order not to awaken any suspicions, and avoid

any too curious questions. But I confess I had none of the coolness of

which people boast who have found themselves in the same position. All

that evening I felt inclined to be soft-hearted and sentimental.

Marya Ivanofna pleased me more than usual. The thought that perhaps I

was seeing her for the last time gave her, in my eyes, a touching grace.

Chvabrine came in. I took him aside and told him about my interview with

Iwan Ignatiitch.