"In spite of all the respect I have for you," he said, coolly, to the Commandant's wife, "I cannot help remarking that you are giving yourself useless trouble by trying us at your tribunal. Leave this cure do Iván Kouzmitch--it is his business." "What! what! my little father!" retorted the Commandant's wife, "are not husband and wife the same flesh and spirit? Iván Kouzmitch, are you trifling? Lock them up separately, and keep them on broad and water till this ridiculous idea goes out of their heads. And Father Garasim shall make them do penance that they may ask pardon of heaven and of men." Iván Kouzmitch did not know what to do. Marya Ivánofna was very pale. Little by little the storm sank. The Commandant's wife became more easy to deal with. She ordered us to make friends. Palashka brought us back our swords. We left the house apparently reconciled. Iván Ignatiitch accompanied us. "Weren't you ashamed," I said to him, angrily, "thus to denounce us to the Commandant after giving me your solemn word not to do so?" "As God is holy," replied he, "I said nothing to Iván Kouzmitch; it was Vassilissa Igorofna who wormed it all out of me. It was she who took all the necessary measures unknown to the Commandant. As it is, heaven be praised that it has all ended in this way." After this reply he returned to his quarters, and I remained alone with Chvabrine. "Our affair can't end thus," I said to him. "Certainly not," rejoined Chvabrine. "You shall wash out your insolence in blood. But they will watch us; we must pretend to be friends for a few days. Good-bye." And we parted as if nothing had happened. Upon my return to the Commandant's, I sat down according to my custom by Marya Ivánofna; her father was not at home, and her mother was engaged with household cares. We spoke in a low voice Marya Ivánofna reproached me tenderly for the anxiety my quarrel with Chvabrine had occasioned her. "My heart failed me," said she, "when they came to tell us that you were going to draw swords on each other. How strange men are! For a word forgotten the next week they are ready to cut each other's throats, and to sacrifice not only their life, but their honour, and the happiness of those who--But I am sure it was not you who began the quarrel; it was Alexey Iványtch who was the aggressor." "What makes you think so, Marya?" "Why, because--because he is so sneering. I do not like Alexey Iványtch; I even dislike him. Yet, all the same, I should not have liked him to dislike me; it would have made me very uneasy." "And what do you think, Marya Ivánofna, does he dislike you or no?" Marya Ivánofna looked disturbed, and grew very red. "I think," she said, at last, "I think he likes me." "Why?" "Because he proposed to me." "Proposed to you! When?" "Last year, two months before you came." "And you did not consent?"