Her heart beat violently, she knew not why; but is not the fear which accompanies our youthful escapades that which constitutes their greatest charm? Liza advanced into the depth of the wood. The deep murmur of the waving branches seemed to welcome the young girl. Her gaiety vanished. Little by little she abandoned herself to sweet reveries. She thought—but who cap say exactly what a young lady of seventeen thinks of, alone in a wood, at six o’clock of a spring morning? And so she walked musingly along the pathway, which was shaded on both sides by tall trees, when suddenly a magnificent hunting dog came barking and bounding towards her. Liza became alarmed and cried out. But at the same moment a voice called out: “Tout beau, Sbogar, ici!”... and a young hunter emerged from behind a clump of bushes.
“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” said he to Liza: “my dog does not bite.”
Liza had already recovered from her alarm, and she immediately took advantage of her opportunity.
“But, sir,” said she, assuming a half-frightened, half-bashful expression, “I am so afraid; he looks so fierce—he might fly at me again.”
Alexei—for the reader has already recognized him—gazed fixedly at the young peasant-girl.
“I will accompany you if you are afraid,” said he to her: “will you allow me to walk along with you?”
“Who is to hinder you?” replied Liza. “Wills are free, and the road is open to everybody.”
“Where do you come from?”
“From Priloutchina; I am the daughter of Vassili the blacksmith, and I am going to gather mushrooms.” (Liza carried a basket on her arm.) “And you, sir? From Tougilovo, I have no doubt.”
“Exactly so,” replied Alexei: “I am the young master’s valet-de-chambre.”