I hoped he would pass me by without recognition, but he saw me, and as though involuntarily his hand went to his sword, but it wandered away again.
‘Well, this is a pretty trick you have played,’ he said. ‘What was your object, Chelminsky, may I be bold to inquire?’
‘A matter of high politics which you are too young to understand, Shedrine; therefore I will not explain.’
‘As you will,’ he said, ‘but beware how you meet Mazeppa, and still more be careful of Olga Panief: she is a mad woman, my friend. It was hard upon Mazeppa to marry him to a wild, witless thing like Olga.’
‘Bah! She is sane enough, but she is angry. She is jealous of the Tsaritsa-elect, by whose arts she imagines that she was forestalled. But tell me, did the marriage pass off without interruption?’
‘Assuredly; they were married. I have seen many a quarrelsome pair, but save me from such another married couple as this!’
‘Tell me, tell me, Shedrine!’ I exclaimed. ‘Tell me quickly: I perish to hear all.’
‘Well, the ceremony was performed by the priest, I being witness and bridegroom’s attendant—some old frump sent by you, I believe, was her witness. It seems Mazeppa believed he was marrying one Vera Kurbatof, and Olga thought that her disguised husband was yourself. It appears also that you are the delinquent in this matter from first to last: at any rate, both parties cursed you well, and it is you upon whom they have vowed vengeance.’
‘But stay, Shedrine, you go too fast. Is Mazeppa in Moscow, and is she? Are they together as man and wife? Do they recognise the rite performed over them? How and when did they discover the mistake?’
‘Mazeppa is in Moscow, so is Olga: they are not together, nor have been since the first half-hour of marriage. They both deny the marriage, which is nevertheless a marriage, and they discovered the “mistake” as soon as they were out of the church, when Olga threw off her disguise, saying that Chelminsky might wear his if he chose, but for her there was no reason. Then Mazeppa suddenly uttered a great curse, and, tearing his own wraps from his face, glared at her and she back at him. Then Olga, with a yell which may have been intended for spoken words, but was not so understood by me, flew at her newly-won husband and struck at him so fiercely that Mazeppa actually drew his sword.