‘I was not seen,’ I said.
‘It is the same as though we were both seen. By this time all is known. We have done with home for ever, my friend, you and I—with home and with all who knew us there. I thought of this as I rode yesterday. Would you return?’
It had not occurred to me that it would be necessary to depart, as Mazeppa suggested, but now that he pointed it out I realised the whole shame that would attach to us both in this matter if folks should speak of it, as speak they surely would. It would be impossible to live, knowing that people looked askance at us as we passed and told one another of our disgrace. True, I had fought Falbofsky and had the better of him, but that would be forgotten, while the rest remained.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I will not return, or, if I do, only for a short space in order to put my affairs in order with the steward.’
‘No; let him come to you, that is my advice. We will abide at Gorelka, which cannot be far from here. I have an idea for our future career (I had time to think yesterday), and from Gorelka we will summon our servants.’
We travelled slowly to Gorelka, which was a small town distant about two leagues from the spot in which I had found Mazeppa. There we lodged at the post station, but when we had eaten and rested an hour Mazeppa said that he would borrow my horse for a day, or maybe two days.
‘Whither go you?’ I said. ‘Homewards, to settle your affairs?’
‘Yes, homewards, and to settle my affairs,’ he replied grimly.
‘If one is to go,’ I said, ‘it were surely better I, for of the two, Mazeppa, it is you that have been worse treated and will be most spoken of. Both of us will lie under contempt, but you more than I.’ I spoke honestly, desiring to spare him the shame of being seen, for I saw plainly that this would be no small matter for him in his present temper.
‘Fool!’ he retorted. ‘Do you not understand that because I have suffered the greater disgrace therefore it is for me to go?’