Historical fiction; Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction
“‘Look here now,’ I said, when we came out, ‘none of your interference
here after this—do you understand?’ He laughed: ‘And how are you going
to settle up with your father?’ says he. I thought I might as well jump
into the Neva at once without going home first; but it struck me that I
wouldn’t, after all, and I went home feeling like one of the damned.”
“My goodness!” shivered the clerk. “And his father,” he added, for the
prince’s instruction, “and his father would have given a man a ticket
to the other world for ten roubles any day—not to speak of ten
thousand!”
The prince observed Rogojin with great curiosity; he seemed paler than
ever at this moment.
“What do you know about it?” cried the latter. “Well, my father learned
the whole story at once, and Zaleshoff blabbed it all over the town
besides. So he took me upstairs and locked me up, and swore at me for
an hour. ‘This is only a foretaste,’ says he; ‘wait a bit till night
comes, and I’ll come back and talk to you again.’
“Well, what do you think? The old fellow went straight off to Nastasia
Philipovna, touched the floor with his forehead, and began blubbering
and beseeching her on his knees to give him back the diamonds. So after
awhile she brought the box and flew out at him. ‘There,’ she says,
‘take your earrings, you wretched old miser; although they are ten
times dearer than their value to me now that I know what it must have
cost Parfen to get them! Give Parfen my compliments,’ she says, ‘and
thank him very much!’ Well, I meanwhile had borrowed twenty-five
roubles from a friend, and off I went to Pskoff to my aunt’s. The old
woman there lectured me so that I left the house and went on a drinking
tour round the public-houses of the place. I was in a high fever when I
got to Pskoff, and by nightfall I was lying delirious in the streets
somewhere or other!”
“Oho! we’ll make Nastasia Philipovna sing another song now!” giggled
Lebedeff, rubbing his hands with glee. “Hey, my boy, we’ll get her some
proper earrings now! We’ll get her such earrings that—”
“Look here,” cried Rogojin, seizing him fiercely by the arm, “look
here, if you so much as name Nastasia Philipovna again, I’ll tan your
hide as sure as you sit there!”
“Aha! do—by all means! if you tan my hide you won’t turn me away from
your society. You’ll bind me to you, with your lash, for ever. Ha, ha!
here we are at the station, though.”
Sure enough, the train was just steaming in as he spoke.
Though Rogojin had declared that he left Pskoff secretly, a large
collection of friends had assembled to greet him, and did so with
profuse waving of hats and shouting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account