At the foot of the elevation and partly upon its incline, were scattered in the distance and in all directions a number of small grey wooden huts, forming the village; at the sight of these dwellings our hero began—for some reason or other best known to himself—to count them; and on counting their number he found them upwards of two hundred. They were nowhere intersected by trees or shrubs, they presented nothing else but the monstrous appearance of heaps of wood as previously described.
The scene, however, was enlivened by two women, who had tucked up their petticoats in a quite picturesque manner, and fixed them carefully to their sides; they were wading up to their knees through the brook, holding each one end of a ragged net, in which might have been seen a couple of entangled crayfish, and a fat trout; the women seemed to have some dispute, for they appeared quarrelling and scolding one another. In the distance, on the right hand side of the hill, loomed a dull looking fir-tree forest. The weather even, seemed in harmony with the scenery; the day was not exactly a dull one, nor could it be called a bright one, the sky was of a peculiarly greyish tint, not unlike the worn-out cloak of a garrison soldier. To complete the tableau, the cock, the prognosticator of the changes in the weather, even seemed out of tune; regardless of the fact that his head was damaged by the beaks of his fellow-creatures—according to their fashion he was crowing à tue-tête and even clapped his tattered wings against his ragged sides.
[CHAPTER X.]
On driving up to the entrance-hall, Tchichikoff perceived the lord of the mansion standing upon the door steps, clad in a long parrot-green coloured surtout, holding his hands over his forehead in lieu of an eye-shade, no doubt for the purpose of concentrating his sight, for the purpose of more minutely examining the arriving carriage. Whilst the britchka was driving nearer towards the house, the eyes of the master seemed to dilate and brighten up by degrees, and his smiles increase in proportion.
"Pavel Ivanovitch," shouted Maniloff, for it was he, when he beheld Tchichikoff stepping out from the carriage; "at last you have been kind enough to remember us."
Both friends embraced each other most heartily, and Maniloff led his guest into the house. Although the time necessary for going from the outer premises into the anteroom, thence into the dining-room, until they arrived in the regular reception-room, would be rather short, yet we think it an opportune moment, and will endeavour to make the best use of it and say a few words en passant about the owner of the estate and mansion. But here we must observe that such an undertaking is fraught with many difficulties. It is far easier to delineate a strongly-marked character; to picture such a one is easy, for you have simply to throw the following characteristics upon the canvass, such as, black and piercing eyes, overshadowing eye-brows, a frowning forehead, a black, or fire-coloured large cloak thrown as if carelessly over the left shoulder—like Zamiel in "Der Freischütz"—and the portrait is finished; but there are men in this world, and they are numerous, who at first sight are very much alike, but if you look closer, you will find many unattainable traits and peculiarities in them, which are particularly their own; to describe this species of men is a very difficult task indeed. With them, it is necessary to use strenuous exertions and the greatest attention, before you are able to delineate even a portion of the fine and nearly imperceptible traits of their character, and in general, it is requisite to set about into such an undertaking with an experienced mind and eye.
Heaven alone, therefore, could, with any correctness portray the character of Maniloff. He seemed to belong to that class of men which we term in Russia among the good-natured ones, "neither a clown in town, nor a fool in the village." At first sight, he was a man of rather prepossessing appearance, and of a pleasing countenance; but these advantages seemed to have been too much sugared by nature. In his manners and demeanour there was something which courted acquaintance and friendship; he smiled enticingly; he was fair, and had blue eyes. In the beginning of a conversation with him it was impossible not to say: "What an agreeable and kind-hearted man!" and the following moment you would say nothing; whilst in the third you would most likely exclaim: "The devil understand the man, and what he means!" and you will leave him; if you have not that good fortune, you are sure to feel a killing ennui. You will not hear from his lips anything amusing, not even an insinuation, which you may hear from any one else, provided you touch but slightly the chord which is most in harmony with his interests.
Every one has his hobby-horse in conversation, as in other matters; the one has all his passion concentrated upon dogs and horses; another fancies he is an herculean admirer of music, and acutely feels all its delicate passages; a third is a passé maître in gastronomy; a fourth endeavouring to play a rôle, if but an inch loftier, then the one assigned to him by nature and his position in society; a fifth, with more moderation in his wishes, meditates how he could manage to be seen on the promenade walking side by side with an imperial colonel, or aide-de-camp, thus to show himself off to his friends known and unknown, in a word, every one has his peculiar ways and manners; but Maniloff had none.
At home he was accustomed to speak but little, for he seemed always busy thinking and meditating, but what about? that also might be known in Heaven. Nor could it be said that he busied himself in the management of his property, for he never took the trouble to visit his fields or his estate in general; thus, then, agriculture was left to go and find its own way. If his steward spoke to him, and suggested an alteration or improvement, saying, "This or that could or might be done for the better." "Yes, not a bad idea, that of yours, steward," would be his invariable reply, and he continued to smoke his Turkish pipe, a habit which he had contracted at an early age, while serving in the Caucasus, where he was pronounced to be one of the quietest, nicest, and best-bred officers in the regiment; "Yes, not a bad idea, indeed," would he repeat in conclusion.