“My respects!” the district doctor said to me. “I am very glad you have come.… Please can you tell me who is master here?”
“There is no master.… Chaos reigns here,” I answered.
“A very good apophthegm, but it does not assist me,” the district doctor answered with bitterness. “For the last three hours I have been asking, imploring to have a bottle of port or champagne sent here and not a soul has deigned to listen to my prayer! They are all as deaf as posts! They have only just brought the ice I ordered three hours ago. What does it mean? A woman is dying here, and they only seem to laugh! The Count is pleased to sit in his study drinking liqueurs, and they can't bring even a wineglass here! I wanted to send to the chemist in the town, and I was told all the horses are worn out, and there's nobody who can go as they are all drunk.… I wanted to send to my hospital for medicines and bandages and they favoured me with a fellow who could hardly stand on his legs. I sent him two hours ago, and what do you think? They tell me he has only just started! Is that not disgusting? They're all drunk, rude, ill-bred!… They all seem idiots! By God, it is the first time in my life I've come across such heartless people!”
The doctor's indignation was justifiable. He had not exaggerated, rather the contrary.… A whole night would have been too short a time for pouring out one's gall on all the disorders and malpractices that could be found on the Count's estate. The servants were all abominable, having been demoralized by the want of work and supervision. Among them there was not a single man-servant who could not have served as a type of a servant who had lived long and feathered his nest in the Count's service.
I went off to get some wine. Having distributed three or four cuffs, I succeeded in obtaining both champagne and Valerian drops, to the unspeakable delight of the doctors. An hour later[17] the doctor's assistant came from the hospital bringing with him all that was necessary.
Pavel Ivanovich succeeded in pouring into Olga's mouth a tablespoon of champagne. She made an effort to swallow and groaned. Then they injected some sort of drops under the skin.
“Olga Nikolaevna!” the district doctor shouted into her ear. “Olga Ni‑ko‑la‑evna!”
“It is difficult to expect her to regain consciousness!” Pavel Ivanovich said with a sigh. “The loss of blood has been great, besides the blow she received on the head with some blunt instrument must have caused concussion of the brain.”
It is not my business to decide if there had been concussion of the brain or not, but Olga opened her eyes and asked for something to drink.… The stimulants had had effect.
“Now you can ask her whatever you require …” Pavel Ivanovich said, nudging my elbow. “Ask.”