He opened his eyes and saw me, saw Vera also; yet he did not become confused or show terror or surprise even in the moment of waking.
‘What, you, Chelminsky,’ he said, ‘and come so far after this baggage? Well, take her, my friend, if you think her worth the having; as for me, I have changed my opinion!’
‘I shall certainly take her,’ said I, ‘and that without your permission; but first you shall fight me——’
‘What, for her sake? Dear man! believe me, she is not worth it: I have spent three days in her company, and it is enough. If you are wise, let the fat Russian Boyar have her. We were right to save her from the puling little Tsar! They two would breed devils and idiots to rule Russia withal!’
‘Fie, Mazeppa,’ said I, ‘a Cossack and a coward!’
‘Lord, man, you know better than that! I like you, Chelminsky; we are old friends. I nearly got you knouted the other day, but I was angry; I wanted the wench here, knowing no better. Now it is different. I will not fight on her account—the she-devil! I have scratches upon me from her nails, and kicks from her feet. Another day I will fight, if you will, upon somewhat better pretext.’
‘Get out of the dormése, then,’ I said, ‘for I require it for this lady.’
‘What!’ said he, climbing out nevertheless, ‘you will not be advised? Let her go, man, and come back with me: I know her better than you. I have had some experience with women.’
‘Mazeppa, the married man!’ Vera laughed suddenly.
‘True,’ said he, ‘there is that little affair, too, Chelminsky: some day we may exchange a few passes, but not to-night. It is scarcely worth a man’s while to be wakened—much less to be obliged to draw a sword—upon so trifling a matter as the destination of a scolding woman. Take her, man, or let her go to the devil: as for me, I shall sleep.’