“A pretty distraction,” commented Raisky ironically.
“No distraction,” said Mark seriously. “There was more in it, a badly-needed lesson for the old boy.”
“And then what?”
“Nothing. He lied to the Governor, saying that I had aimed at him, but missed. If I had been a peaceful citizen of the town I should have been thrust into gaol without delay; but as I am an outlaw, the Governor inquired into the matter and advised Niel Andreevich to say nothing. So that no enquiry should be instituted from St. Petersburg; they fear that like fire.”
“When I spoke of idleness,” said Raisky, “I did not mean to read a moral. Yet when I see what your mind, your abilities and your education are....”
“What have you seen? That I can climb a hedge, shoot at a fool, eat and drink heavily?” he asked as he drained his glass.
Raisky watched him, and wondered uneasily how it would all end.
“We were speaking of the art you love so much,” said Mark.
“I have been snatched from Art as if from my mother’s breast,” sighed Raisky, “but I shall return and shall reach my goal.”
“No, you will not,” laughed Mark.