“What do you say, my lord? How can I leave you? Who will look after you? What will your parents say?” Knowing the obstinate disposition of my follower, I resolved to get round him by wheedling and coaxing him. “My dear friend, Arkhip Savelitch!” I said to him: “do not refuse me; be my benefactor. I do not require a servant here, and I should not feel easy if Maria Ivanovna were to set out on her journey without you. By serving her you will be serving me, for I am firmly resolved to marry her, as soon as circumstances will permit.” Here Savelitch clasped his hands with an indescribable look of astonishment. “To marry!” he repeated: “the child wants to marry! But what will your father say? And your mother, what will she think?” “They will give their consent, without a doubt, when they know Maria Ivanovna,” I replied. “I count upon you. My father and mother have great confidence in you; you will therefore intercede for us, won’t you?” The old man was touched. “Oh, my father, Peter Andreitch!” he replied, “although you are thinking of getting married a little too early, yet Maria Ivanovna is such a good young lady, that it would be a pity to let the opportunity escape. I will do as you wish. I will accompany her, the angel, and I will humbly say to your parents, that such a bride does not need a dowry.” I thanked Savelitch, and then lay down to sleep in the same room with Zourin. Feeling very much excited, I began to chatter. At first Zourin listened to my remarks very willingly; but little by little his words became rarer and more disconnected, and at last, instead of replying to’ one of my questions, he began to snore. I stopped talking and soon followed his example. The next morning I betook myself to Maria Ivanovna. I communicated to her my plans. She recognized the reasonableness of them, and immediately agreed to carry them out. Zourin’s detachment was to leave the town that day. There was no time to be lost. I at once took leave of Maria Ivanovna, confiding her to the care of Savelitch, and giving her a letter to my parents. Maria burst into tears. “Farewell, Peter Andreitch,” said she in a gentle voice. “God alone knows whether we shall ever see each other again or not; but I will never forget you; till my dying day you alone shall live in my heart!” I was unable to reply. There was a crowd of people around us, and I did not wish to give way to my feelings before them. At last she departed. I returned to Zourin, silent and depressed. He endeavoured to cheer me up, and I tried to divert my thoughts; we spent the day in noisy mirth, and in the evening we set out on our march.