Hadji Murad. Leo Tolstoy

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isn't your turn to deal," said the adjutant sternly, and with his white ringed hand he began to deal himself, as though he wished to get rid of the cards as quickly as possible.

      The prince's valet entered the drawing room and announced that the officer on duty wanted to speak to him.

      "Excuse me, gentlemen," said the prince speaking Russian with an English accent. "Will you take my place, marya?"

      "Do you all agree?" asked the princess, rising quickly and lightly to her full height, rustling her silks, and smiling the radiant smile of a happy woman.

      "I always agree to everything," replied the adjutant, very pleased that the princess -- who could not play at all -- was now going to play against him.

      Poltoratsky only spread out his hands and smiled.

      The rubber was nearly finished when the prince returned to the drawing room, animated and obviously very pleased.

      "Do you know what I propose?"

      "What?"

      "That we have some champagne."

      "I am always ready for that," said Poltoratsky.

      "Why not? We shall be delighted!" said the adjutant.

      "Bring some, Vasili!" said the prince.

      "What did they want you for?" asked Marya Vasilevna.

      "It was the officer on duty and another man."

      "Who? What about?" asked Marya Vasilevna quickly.

      "I mustn't say," said Vorontsov, shrugging his shoulders.

      "You mustn't say!" repeated Marya Vasilevna. "We'll see about that."

      When the champagne was brought each of the visitors drank a glass, and having finished the game and settled the scores they began to take their leave.

      "Is it your company that's ordered to the forest tomorrow?" the prince asked Poltoratsky as they said goodbye.

      "Yes, mine...why?"

      "Then we shall meet tomorrow," said the prince, smiling slightly.

      "Very pleased," replied Poltoratsky, not quite understanding what Vorontsov was saying to him and preoccupied only by the thought that he would in a minute be pressing Marya Vasilevna's hand.

      Marya Vasilevna, according to her wont, not only pressed his hand firmly but shook it vigorously, and again reminding him of his mistake in playing diamonds, she gave him what he took to be a delightful, affectionate, and meaning smile.

      Poltoratsky went home in an ecstatic condition only to be understood by people like himself who, having grown up and been educated in society, meet a woman belonging to their own circle after months of isolated military life, and moreover a woman like Princess Vorontsov.

      When he reached the little house in which he and his comrade lived he pushed the door, but it was locked. He knocked, with no result. He felt vexed, and began kicking the door and banging it with his sword. Then he heard a sound of footsteps and Vovilo -- a domestic serf of his -- undid the cabin hook which fastened the door.

      "What do you mean by locking yourself in, blockhead?"

      "But how is it possible, sir...?"

      "You're tipsy again! I'll show you 'how it is possible!'" and Poltoratsky was about to strike Vovilo but changed his mind. "Oh, go to the devil! ... Light a candle."

      "In a minute."

      Vovilo was really tipsy. He had been drinking at the name day party of the ordnance sergeant, Ivan Petrovich. On returning home he began comparing his life with that of the latter. Ivan Petrovich had a salary, was married, and hoped in a year's time to get his discharge.

      Vovilo had been taken "up" when a boy -- that is, he had been taken into his owner's household service -- and now although he was already over forty he was not married, but lived a campaigning life with his harum-scarum young master. He was a good master, who seldom struck him, but what kind of a life was it? "He promised to free me when we return from the Caucasus, but where am I to with my freedom? ... It's a dog's life!" thought Vovilo, and he felt so sleepy that, afraid lest someone should come in and steal something, he fastened the hook of the door and fell asleep.

      * * *

      Poltoratsky entered the bedroom which he shared with his comrade Tikhonov.

      "Well, have you lost?" asked Tikhonov, waking up.

      "No, as it happens, I haven't. I've won seventeen rubles, and we drank a bottle of Cliquot!"

      "And you've looked at Marya Vasilevna?"

      "Yes, and I have looked at Marya Vasilevna," repeated Poltoratsky.

      "It will soon be time to get up," said Tikhonov. "We are to start at six."

      "Vovilo!" shouted Poltoratsky, "see that you wake me up properly tomorrow at five!"

      "How can I wake you if you fight?"

      "I tell you you're to wake me! Do you hear?"

      "All right." Vovilo went out, taking Poltoratsky's boots and clothes with him. Poltoratsky got into bed and smoked a cigarette and put out his candle smiling the while. In the dark he saw before him the smiling face of Marya Vasilevna.

      * * *

      The Vorontsovs did not go to bed at once. When the visitors had left, Marya Vasilevna went up to her husband and standing in front of him, said severely --

      "Eh bien! vous allez me dire ce que c'est."

      "Mais, ma chere..."

      "Pas de 'ma chere'! C'etait un emissaire, n'est-ce pas?"

      "Quand meme, je ne puis pas vous le dire."

      "Vous ne pouvez pas? Alors, c'est moi qui vais vous le dire!"

      "Vous?"

      "It was Hadji Murad, wasn't it?" said Marya Vasilevna, who had for some days past heard of the negotiations and thought that Hadji Murad himself had been to see her husband. Vorontsov could not altogether deny this, but disappointed her by saying that it was not Hadji Murad himself but only an emissary to announce that Hadji Murad would come to meet him next day at the spot where a wood- cutting expedition had been arranged.

      In the monotonous life of the fortress the young Vorontsovs -- both husband and wife -- were glad of this occurrence, and it was already past two o'clock when, after speaking of the pleasure the news would give his father, they went to bed.

      Chapter IV

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       After the three sleepless nights he had passed flying from the murids Shamil had

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