DEVINSKY AGAIN.
It will be readily understood that I now found life exciting enough even to satisfy me. The complications multiplied so fast, without any act of mine, that I had no time to think of the old troubles and disappointments which had so soured Hamylton Tregethner, and emptied life for him. They had already faded into little more than memories, associated with a life that I had once lived but had now done with altogether. I was getting rapidly absorbed by the dangers and incidents of the new life.
How completely I had changed the current of opinion about Alexis Petrovitch I had abundant evidence during the next few days, in the form of invitations to houses which had hitherto been closed to me. People also began to remember Olga, and she shared in this way in the altered condition of things.
I did not tell her any particulars of my night with the Nihilists, nor of the mission with which I was charged. It would probably distress her, and could do no good; unless I might find it necessary to use it to compel her to leave Moscow. I questioned her as to her own connections with the Nihilists, and from what she told me I saw that though they were slight in themselves, they were enough to put her in the power of a woman such as Paula Tueski; and decidedly much more than sufficient to make her arrest a certainty if I were to be arrested, or if anything should happen to throw increased suspicion on me.
Our meeting after her letter to me was a very pleasant one. She met me with a smile and begged me again to forgive her. That was not difficult.
"I can speak frankly to my brother, now. I couldn't always, you know, Alexis"—she glanced with roguish severity into my face—"because a few days ago you used to get very bad tempered and even swear a little. But I'll admit you are improving—in that respect; though I am afraid you are as dogged as ever. But I can be dogged, too: and if I speak frankly now, it is to tell you that nothing you can do will make me go out of Russia until you are safe. You may form what opinion you like of me—though I don't want that to be very bad—but a coward you shall never find me."
"I didn't think you a coward. You know that; you said it in your letter; and I shall not forgive that rudeness of yours, if you persist in this attitude."
"What is the use of a brother if one can't be rude to him, pray? As for your forgiveness, you can't help that now. You've given it. Besides, on reflection, I should not be frightened of you. Will you make me a promise?"
"Yes, if it has nothing to do with your going away."
"It has."
"Then I won't make it. But I'll make a truce. I will not press you to go away, unless I think it necessary for my own safety. Will that do?"
"Yes, I'll go then," she answered readily, holding out her hand to make a bargain of it, as she added:—"Mind, if it's necessary for your safety."
"You're as precise as a lawyer," said I, laughing, as I pressed her hand and saw a flush of colour tinge her face a moment.
"Now," she said, after a pause. "I have a surprise for you. I have a letter from an old friend of yours—a very old friend."
"An old friend of mine. Oh, I see. And old friend of your brother's, you mean. Well, who is it now? Is there another complication?"
"No, no. An old friend of my new brother's. From Mr. Hamylton Tregethner." She laughed merrily as she stumbled over the old Cornish syllables. "I don't like that Englishman," she said, gravely. "Do you know why?"
"Not for the life of me."
"Well, I do not; but I can't say why." Her manner was peculiar. "See, here is the passport. Mr. Tregethner has sent it and he seems to have crossed the Russian frontier without the least difficulty. He has gone to Paris by way of Austria. When shall you go?" She did not look up as she asked this, but stood rummaging among the papers on the table. I took the passport, unfolded and read it mechanically; then without thinking, folded it up again and put it away in my pocket.
Evidently she meant it as my dismissal; and it was very awkward for me to explain that I could not be dismissed in this way because of the difficulties in the road of my leaving. I did not wish to appear to force myself upon her as a brother; but I could not go without first seeing her in safety. And there was the crux.
"I'll make my arrangements as soon as I can," I replied, after a longish pause; and I was conscious of being a little stiff in my manner. "But of course I can't manage things quite as I please. You see, I didn't come into this—I mean, I took up the part and—well, I'm hanged if I know what I do mean; except that of course I'm sorry to seem to force myself on you longer than you like, but I can't get away quite so easily as you seem to think. I know it puts you in an awkward position, but for the moment I don't for the life of me see how it's to be helped."
As I finished she lifted her head, and her expression was at first grave, until the light of a smile in her blue eyes began to spread over her face, and the corners of her mouth twitched.
"Then you won't be able to go yet? Of course, it's very awkward, as you say: but I must manage to put up with it as best I can. In the meantime as we have to continue the parts, we had better play them so as to mystify people. Don't you agree with this?
"Yes, I think that, certainly," I answered, catching her drift, and smiling in my turn.
"Then I am riding this afternoon at three o'clock; and as it might occasion remark if our afternoon rides were broken off quite suddenly, don't you think it would be very diplomatic if you were to come with me?"
"Yes, very diplomatic," I assented, readily. "But you never told me before," said I, rising to go and get ready, "that we were in the habit of riding out together every day."
"It hasn't been exactly every afternoon," answered Olga, laughing. "In fact, it's more than a year since the last ride, but the principle of the thing is the same. We ought not to break the continuity."
"No, we ought not to break the continuity," I assented, laughing. "I'll soon be back." I was, and an exceedingly jolly ride we had. Olga was a splendid horsewoman—a seat like a circus rider—and as soon as we were free of the city we had two or three rattling spins. As we rode back we discussed the question of the best course for us to take. We were both too much exhilarated by the ride to take any but a sanguine view; and so far as I am concerned, I think I talked about it rather as a sort of link between us two than in any serious sense.
When I got to my rooms I was surprised to learn from my servant Borlas that my old opponent, Major Devinsky, had called to see me. I did not know he was back in Moscow, though I knew he had been away. I had been at drill that morning—I had quickly fallen into the routine of the work—and had heard nothing of his return. Certainly there was no reason why he should come to me; though there were many why he should keep away.
He may have watched me into my rooms; for almost before I had changed my riding things, he was announced. He came in smiling, impudent, self assertive, and disposed to be friendly.
"What can you want with me that can induce you to come here?" I asked coldly.
"I want an understanding, Petrovitch...."
"Lieutenant Petrovitch, if you please," I interposed.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Lieutenant Petrovitch, I'm sure," he answered lightly. "But there's really no need for this kind of reception. I want to be friends with you."
I bowed as he paused.
"You and I have not quite understood each other in the past."
"Not until within the last few days," I returned, significantly.
"I'm not referring to that," he said, flushing. "Though as you've started it I'll pay you the compliment of saying you're devilish neat and clever in your workmanship. I had no idea of it, either, nor anyone less...."
"What do you want with me?" I interrupted, with a wave of the hand to stop his compliment.
"I want to talk quietly over with you my suit for your sister's hand. I want to know where we stand, you and I."
"My sister's hand is not mine to give." This very curtly.
"I don't ask you to give it, man; I only want to win it. I am as good a match for her as any man in Moscow..." and with that he launched out into a long account of his wealth, position, and prospects, and of the position his wife would occupy. I let him talk as long as he would, quite understanding that this was only the preface to something else—the real purpose of his visit. Gradually he drew nearer and nearer to the point, and I saw him eyeing me furtively to note the effect of his words, which he weighed very carefully. He spoke of his family influence; how he could advance my interests; what an advantage it was to have command of wealth when making an army career: and much more, until he shewed me that what he really intended was to presume on my old evil reputation and bribe me with money down if necessary, and with promises of future help, if I would agree to let Olga marry him.
"Your proposal put in plain terms means," I said, bluntly, when he had exhausted his circuitous suggestions, "that you want to buy my consent and assistance. I told you at the start that my sister's hand was not mine to give; neither is it mine to sell, Major Devinsky."
He bent a sharp, calculating look on me as if to judge whether I was in earnest, or merely raising my terms.
"I am not a man easily baulked," he said.
"Nor I one easily bribed," I retorted.
"You will have a fortune, and more than a fortune behind you. With skill like yours you can climb to any height you please."
"Sink to any depth you please, you should say," I answered sternly. "But my sister declines absolutely to be your wife. She dislikes you cordially—as cordially as I do: and no plea that you could offer would induce her to change her mind."
"You weren't always very solicitous about her wishes," he muttered, with an angry sneer. I didn't understand this allusion: but it made me very angry.
"You are under my roof," I cried hotly. "But even here you will be good enough to put some guard on your speech. It may clear your thoughts to know what my present feelings are." I now spoke with crisp, cutting emphasis. "If my sister could by any art or persuasion be induced to be your wife, I would never consent to exchange another word with her in all my life. As for the veiled bribe you have offered, I allowed you to make it, that I might see how low you would descend. Sooner than accept it, I would break my sword across my knee and turn cabman for a living. But your visit shall have one result—I will tell my sister all that has passed..."
"By Heaven, if you dare."
"All that has passed now, and if she would rather marry you than retain her relationship to me, I will retire in your favour. But you will do well not to be hopeful." I could not resist this rather petty little sneer.
"You will live to repent this, Lieutenant Petrovitch."
"At your service," I replied, quietly with a bow. He was white to the lips with anger when he rose to go, and he seemed as if fighting to keep back the utterance of some hot insult that rose to his tongue. But his rage got no farther than ugly looks, and he was still wrestling with his agitation when he left the room.
I could understand his chagrin. He would have dearly liked to force me at the point of the sword to consent, and the knowledge that this was no longer possible, that in some way which of course he could not understand I had broken his influence and was no longer afraid of him, galled and maddened him almost beyond endurance. He looked the baffled bully to the life.
It was two days before I had an opportunity of speaking to Olga about it. I had made a rule of seeing her daily if possible, lest anything should happen that needed explanation by her; but she was away the next day and our daily "business conference," did not take place.
She took the matter very curiously when I did mention it, however. She was a creature of changing moods, indeed.
"I have a serious matter to speak to you about; something that may perhaps surprise you," I said, when we were riding. "I am the bearer of a message to you."
"To me?" her face wrinkling with curiosity.
"Yes, to you. I have to be very much the brother in this; in fact the head of the family," and then without much beating about the bush I told her of Devinsky's visit and of his desire to make her his wife.
She listened to me very seriously, scanning my face the while; but did not interrupt me. I had expected a contemptuous and passionate refusal. But her attitude was simply a conundrum. She heard me out to the end with gravity, and when I had finished, reined in her horse and for a full minute stared point-blank into my eyes.
Then she laughed lightly, and asked as she sent her horse forward again:—
"Do you think I ought to marry him—brother?"
Frankly, I was a good deal disappointed at her conduct. I did not see that there could be a moment's hesitation about her answer, especially after all she had said to me about the man. And this feeling may perhaps have shewn in my manner.
"I could do no less than tell you of the proposal, considering that Devinsky believes in the relationship between us," I said. "But I don't see how you, knowing everything, can look to me for the judgment I should have had to give were that relationship real and I actually head of the family."
This stilted reply seemed to please her, for she glanced curiously at me and then smiled, as I thought almost merrily, or even mischievously, as she replied:—
"A proposal of marriage is a very serious thing, Alexis."
"Yes, and so people often find it."
"Major Devinsky is very rich, and very influential. He is right when he says that his wife would have a very good position in one way in Moscow."
"I wish her much happiness with him," I retorted, grimly.
"He is very handsome, too."
I said nothing. She disappointed and vexed me.
"Ah, you men never see other men's good looks. You're very moody," she added, after a pause when she found me still silent.
"I don't admire Major Devinsky," I said rather sullenly.
She laughed so heartily at this and seemed evidently so pleased that I wished I had found the laugh less musical. Next, she looked at me again thoughtfully before she spoke, as if to weigh the effect of her words.
"It would be greatly to your advantage, too, Alexis, to have Major Devinsky...."
"Thank you," I cut in shortly. "I do not seek Major Devinsky's patronage. When I cannot climb or stand without it, I'll fall, and quite contentedly, even if I break my neck. Shall we get on?" And I urged my horse to a quick trot.
My evident irritation at her suggestion—for I could not hear the matter without shewing my resentment—seemed to please her as much as anything, for she smiled as her nag cantered easily at my side. But I would not look at her. If she meant to marry Devinsky I meant what I had said to him. I would have no more to do with the business, and I would get out of Russia as soon as possible the best way I could.
A sidelong glimpse that I caught of Olga's face after a while shewed me that the look of laughing pleasure had died away and had given place to a thoughtful and rather stern expression. "Making up her mind," was my thought; and then having a stretch of road ahead, I quickened up my horse's speed to a hard gallop and we had a quick burst at a rattling pace.
When we pulled up and stood to breathe our horses before turning their heads homewards, the girl's cheeks were all aglow with ruddy colour and her eyes dancing with the excitement of the gallop. She made such a picture of beautiful womanhood that I was forced to gaze at her in sheer admiration.
We had not spoken since I had closed the last bit of dialogue, and now she manoeuvred her horse quite close to me and said:—
"Alexis, did you bring that proposal to me deliberately?"
"Alexis, did you bring that proposal to me deliberately?"
"Yes. It was scarcely a question I could answer for you."
"Couldn't you?" Her eyes rested on mine with an expression that at another time I should have read as reproach. "Did you think there could be any but one answer?"
"No, I didn't. But one never knows," I said, remembering what she had said just before the gallop.
"Don't you? Well, you must think we Russian women are poor stuff! One day, ready to sneak off in disgraceful cowardice: and the next, willing to marry an utterly despicable wretch because he has money and influence and position. Do you mean to tell me that you, acting as my brother, actually let this man make this proposition in cold blood, and did not hurl him out of your rooms? You!"
I stared at her in sheer amazement at the change, and could find not a word to say. Nor was there any need. Now that her real feelings had forced themselves to words she had plenty: and for some minutes she did nothing but utter protestation after protestation of her hatred and contempt of Devinsky: while her hits at me for having been the mouthpiece of the man were many and hard. What angered her was, she said, to feel that the smallest doubt of her intention had been left in Devinsky's mind; and it was not till I told her much more particularly and exactly all that had passed on this point that she was satisfied.
We had ridden some way homewards when her mood changed again, and laughter once more prevailed.
"So you told him I must choose between him and—my brother; or rather my present relationship to you?"
"I told him I would never speak to you again if you married him."
"Well, I have chosen," she replied at once. "I shall not give up—my brother," and with that she pricked up her nag and we rattled along fast, her cheeks growing ruddier and ruddier than ever with the exercise.
I couldn't follow her change of mood; but I was heartily glad she had decided to have nothing to do with Devinsky. She was far too good a girl to be wasted on him.