"I do not want you to swear. Your word is enough."
Then together they wandered talking in the wood, till Lisa said:
"It is time."
They parted; and Alexis was left to wonder how in two meetings a simple rustic had gained such influence over him. There was a freshness and novelty about it all that charmed him, and though the conditions she imposed were irksome, the thought of breaking his promise never even entered his mind. After all, in spite of his fatal ring and the mysterious correspondence, Alexis was a kind and affectionate youth, with a pure heart still capable of innocent enjoyment. Did I consult only my own wishes I should dwell at length on the meetings of these young people, their growing love, their mutual trust, and all they did and all they said. But my pleasure I know would not be shared by the majority of my readers; so for their sake I will omit them. I will only say that in a brief two months Alexis was already madly in love, and Lisa, though more reticent than he was, not indifferent. Happy in the present they took little thought for the future. Visions of indissoluble ties flitted not seldom through the minds of both. But neither mentioned them. For Alexis, however strong his attachment to Akulina, could not forget the social distance that was between them, while Lisa, knowing the enmity between their fathers, dared not count on their becoming reconciled. Besides, her vanity was stimulated by the vague romantic hope of at last seeing the lord of Tugilovo at the feet of the daughter of a village blacksmith. Suddenly something happened which came near to change the course of their true love. One of those cold bright mornings so common in our Russian autumns Ivan Berestoff came a-riding. For all emergencies he brought with him six pointers and a dozen beaters. That same morning Grigori Muromsky, tempted by the fine weather, saddled his English mare and came trotting through his agricultural estates. Nearing the wood he came upon his neighbour proudly seated in the saddle wearing his fur-lined overcoat. Ivan Berestoff was waiting for the hare which the beaters were driving with discordant noises out of the brushwood. If Muromsky could have foreseen this meeting he would have avoided it. But finding himself suddenly within pistol-shot there was no escape. Like a cultivated European gentleman, Muromsky rode up to and addressed his enemy politely. Berestoff answered with the grace of a chained bear dancing to the order of his keeper. At this moment out shot the hare and scudded across the field. Berestoff and his groom shouted to loose the dogs, and started after them full speed. Muromsky's mare took fright and bolted. Her rider, who often boasted of his horsemanship, gave her her head and chuckled inwardly over this opportunity of escaping a disagreeable companion. But the mare coming at a gallop to an unseen ditch swerved. Muromsky lost his seat, fell rather heavily on the frozen ground, and lay there cursing the animal, which, sobered by the loss of her master, stopped at once. Berestoff galloped to the rescue, asking if Muromsky was hurt. Meanwhile the groom led up the culprit by the bridle. Berestoff helped Muromsky into the saddle and then invited him to his house. Peeling himself under an obligation Muromsky could not refuse, and so Berestoff returned in glory, having killed the hare and bringing home with him his adversary wounded and almost a prisoner of war.
At breakfast the neighbours fell into rather friendly conversation; Muromsky asked Berestoff to lend him a droshky, confessing that his fall made it too painful for him to ride back. Berestoff accompanied him to the outer gate, and before the leavetaking was over Muromsky Pad obtained from him a promise to come and bring Alexis to a friendly dinner at Prelutchina next day. So this old enmity which seemed before so deeply rooted was on the point of ending because the little mare had taken fright.
Lisa ran to meet Per father on his return.
"What has happened, papa?" she asked in astonishment. "Why are you limping? Where is the mare? Whose droshki is this?"
"My dear, you will never guess;"—and then he told Per.
Lisa could not believe Per ears. Before she Pad time to collect herself she heard that to-morrow both the Berestoffs would come to dinner.
"What do you say?" she exclaimed, turning pale. "The Berestoffs, father and son! Dine with us to-morrow! No, papa, you can do as you please, I certainly do not appear."