We envied his experience and knowledge of the world; his subtle irony in argument impressed us greatly. We thought of him as a practical reformer and rising statesman.
§4
V. was not at home. He had gone to Moscow the evening before, for an interview with the Governor; his valet said that he would certainly return within two hours. I waited for him.
The country-house which he occupied was charming. The study where I waited was a high spacious room on the ground-floor, with a large door leading to a terrace and garden. It was a hot day; the scent of trees and flowers came from the garden; and some children were playing in front of the house and laughing loudly. Wealth, ease, space, sun and shade, flowers and verdure—what a contrast to the confinement and close air and darkness of a prison! I don’t know how long I sat there, absorbed in bitter thoughts; but suddenly the valet who was on the terrace called out to me with an odd kind of excitement.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Please come here and look.”
Not wishing to annoy the man, I walked out to the terrace, and stood still in horror. All round a number of houses were burning; it seemed as if they had all caught fire at once. The fire was spreading with incredible speed.
I stayed on the terrace. The man watched the fire with a kind of uneasy satisfaction, and he said, “It’s spreading grandly; that house on the right is certain to be burnt.”
There is something revolutionary about a fire: fire mocks at property and equalises fortunes. The valet felt this instinctively.
Within half an hour, a whole quarter of the sky was covered with smoke, red below and greyish black above. It was the beginning of those fires which went on for five months, and of which we shall hear more in the sequel.