whether it was all the same to her or not, the deep despair of the daughter, who had not been in time to bid her father farewell, had not been in time to receive his blessing, after many years of anger, which had borne heavily on the head of the blameless young woman, was so evidently sincere, and produced such a deep impression on everyone, that her stepmother also was moved.
anna iurievna resembled her father, as much as a young, graceful, pretty woman can resemble an elderly man with strongly-marked features and athletic frame, such as was general nazimoff. but in spite of the delicacy of her form, and the gentleness of her eyes, her glance sometimes flashed fire in a manner very like the flashing eyes of her father, and in her strong will, firm character, and inflexible adherence to what she believed to be necessary and right, anna was exactly like her father.
for nearly ten years his daughter had obediently borne his anger; from the day of her marriage to the man she loved, whom evil-minded people had succeeded in calumniating in the general's mind. though writing incessantly to him, begging him to pardon her, to understand that he had made a mistake, that her husband was a man of honor, and that she would be fully and perfectly happy, but for the burden of her father's wrath, and of the separation from him, she had never until the last few weeks received a reply from him. but quite recently something mysterious had happened. not only had her father written to her that he wished to see her and her children in st. petersburg, whither he was just setting out, but a few days later he had written again, a long, tender letter, in which he had asked her forgiveness. without giving any explanations, he said that he had received indubitable proofs of the innocence and chivalrous honor of her husband; that he felt himself deeply guilty toward him, and was miserable on account of the injustice he had committed. in the following letters, praying his daughter to hasten her coming, because he was dangerously ill, and the doctors thought could not last long, he filled her with astonishment by expressing his intention to make a new will, and his determination to separate his youngest daughter "from such a mother," and by his prayers to her and her husband not to refuse to take upon themselves little olga's education.
"what had happened? how could that light-minded woman have so deeply wounded my father?" anna asked in bewilderment.
"if she was merely light-minded!" her husband answered, shrugging his shoulders. "but she is so malicious, so crafty, and so daring that anything may be expected from her."
"but in that case there would be an open scandal. we would know something for certain. nowadays they even relate such stories in the newspapers, and my father is so well known, so noteworthy!"
"that is just why they don't write about him!" answered borisoff, her husband, smiling. he himself flatly refused to go to st. petersburg. with horror he remembered the first year of his marriage, before he had succeeded in obtaining a transfer to another city, and was compelled to meet the woman he detested; compelled also to meet his father-in-law, a wise and honorable old man, who had fallen so completely into the toils of this crafty woman. anna iurievna knew that her husband despised her stepmother; that he detested her as the cause of all the grief which they had had to endure through her, and most of all, on account of the injustice she was guilty of toward her brother, the general's son.
for six years borisoff had lived with young peter nazimoff, as his tutor and teacher, and loved him sincerely. the boy had already reached the highest class at school, when his sister, two years older than he, finished her schooling, and returned to her father's house, about the time of the general's second marriage. what the young tutor tried not to notice and to endure, for love of his pupil, in the first year of the general's second marriage, became intolerable when the general's daughter returned home, and to all the burden of his difficult position was added the knowledge of their mutual love. he proceeded frankly, and the whole matter was soon settled. but the young man had never uttered a syllable as to the cause of madame nazimoff's hatred for him. for the sake of his father-in-law's peace of mind, he sincerely hoped that he would never know. anna was convinced that the whole cause of her stepmother's hostility was her prejudice against what was in her opinion a mesalliance. in part she was right, but the chief reason of this hostility remained forever a secret to her. unfortunately, it was not equally a secret to her father.
of late years he had gradually been losing faith in his second wife's character. it went so far that the general felt much more at ease when she was away. before the last illness of iuri pavlovitch, which, to tell the truth, was almost his first, olga vseslavovna had gone abroad with her daughter, intending to travel for a year; but she had hardly been gone two months when the general unexpectedly determined to go to st. petersburg to seek a divorce, to see his elder daughter, and change his will. perhaps he would never have determined on such decisive measures had not something wholly unexpected taken place.
borisoff was quite mistaken in thinking that he had so carefully destroyed all the letters which the general's young wife had written to him, before his marriage to anna, that no material evidence of olga vseslavovna's early design of treachery remained. even before she married the general, she had had a confidential servant, who carried out many commissions for the beautiful young woman, whose fame had gone abroad through the three districts along the volga, the arena of her early triumphs. later, the young lady found a new favorite in foreign lands—the same rita who was still with her. martha, the russian confidential servant, heartily detested the german girl, and such strife arose between them that not only the general's wife, but even the general himself, was deprived of peace and tranquillity. martha was no fool; olga vseslavovna had to be careful with her; she did take care, but she herself did not know to what an extent she was in the woman's power. foreseeing a black day of ingratitude, martha, with wonderful forethought, had put on one side one or two letters from each series of her mistress' secret correspondence, which always passed through her hands. perhaps she would not have made such a bad use of them but for her mistress' last, intolerable insult. prizing in her servants, next to swift obedience, a knowledge of languages, her mistress did not make use of her when traveling abroad; but hitherto she had taken both servants with her. but on her last journey she was so heartily tired of martha, and her perpetual tears and quarrels, that she determined to get on without her, the more so that her daughter's governess was also traveling with her. her company was growing too numerous.
there was no limit to martha's wrath when she learned that she was going to be left behind. her effrontery was so great that she advised her mistress "for her own sake" not to put such an affront upon her, since she would not submit to it without seeking revenge. but her mistress never dreamed of what martha was planning, and what a risk she ran.
hardly had the general's wife departed when martha asked the general to let her leave, saying she would find work elsewhere. the general saw no way of keeping her; and he did not even wish to do so, thinking her only a quarrelsome, ill-tempered woman. the confidential servant left the house, and even the city. and immediately her revenge and torture of the general began, cutting straight at the root of his happiness, his health, even his life. he began to receive, almost daily, letters from different parts of russia, for martha had plenty of friends and chums. with measureless cruelty martha began by sending the less important documents, still signed with her mistress' maiden name; then two or three letters from the series of the most recent times, and finally there came a whole packet of those sent by the general's wife to the tutor, in the first year of her marriage with the general, before borisoff had met anna.
the crafty martha, knowing perfectly the whole state of affairs to which these letters referred, often copied out their contents, and kept the letters themselves concealed, saying to herself, "god knows what may turn up, some day!
"if they are no use, i can burn them. but they may be useful. it is always a good thing to keep our masters in our power," argued the sagacious woman, and she was not mistaken in her calculations, although these letters served not for her profit, but only for a sanguinary revenge.
these notes and letters, which finally opened his eyes to the true character of his wife, and his own crying injustice to his elder children, were now lying in the general's dispatch box, in a neatly tied packet, directed in the doctor's handwriting to "her excellency olga vseslavovna nazimoff."
as soon as she received her father's first letter anna began to get ready to go to st. petersburg, but unfortunately she was kept back by the sickness, first of one child, then of another. but for his last telegrams, she would not have started even now, because she did not realize the dangerous character of his illness. but now, finding that she had come too late, the unhappy woman could not forgive herself.
everyone was grieved to see her bitter sorrow, after the funeral service for her father. princess ryadski burst into tears, as she looked at her; and all the acquaintances and relations of the general were far more disturbed by her despair than by the general's death. olga vseslavovna was secretly scandalized at such lack of self-control, but outwardly she seemed greatly touched and troubled by the situation of her poor stepdaughter. but she did not venture to express her sympathy too openly in the presence of others, remembering the words of "the crazy creature" when she had come to herself after her fainting fit, and her stepmother had hurried up to embrace her.
"leave me!" anna had cried, when she saw her. "i cannot bear to see you! you killed my father!"
it was well that there were only servants in the anteroom. but the general's wife did not wish to risk another such scene, now that so many people were present. and besides she was extremely disturbed; the friends who had come to the funeral service had brought flowers; and the half-crazy princess, with the aid of two other ladies, had taken a fancy to decorate the coffin, and especially the head, with them. it is impossible to describe what olga vseslavovna suffered, as she watched all those hands moving about among the folds of the muslin, the frills, the covering, almost under the satin cushion even; a little more and she would have fainted in earnest.
she had always boasted that she had strong nerves, and this was quite true; nevertheless, during these days, their strength was evidently giving way, as she could not get to sleep for a long time that night, and heaven only knows what fancies passed through her mind. it was almost morning before olga vseslavovna got to sleep, and even then it was not for long.
she dreamed that she was descending endless stairs and dark corridors, with a heavy, shapeless burden on her shoulders. a bright, constantly-changing flame flickered before her; now red, now yellow, now green, it flitted before her from side to side. she knew that if she could reach it, the burden would fall from her. but the light seemed to be taunting her, now appearing, now disappearing, and suddenly going out altogether. and she found herself in the darkness, in a damp cellar, seemingly empty, but filled with something's invisible presence. what was it? she did not know. but this pervading something frightened her terribly, smothered her, pressing on her from all sides, depriving her of air. she was choking! terror seized her at the thought that it . . . was death! must she die? was it possible? but that brightly shining light had just promised her life, gayety, brilliance! she must hurry to overtake it. and she tried to run. but her feet would not obey her; she could not move.
"heaven! heaven!" she cried, "but what is it? whence has such a disaster come? what is holding me? let me go, or i shall be smothered in this stench, under this intolerable burden!"
suddenly iuri pavlovitch walked past her. she immediately recognized him, and joyfully caught at his cloak. "iuri! forgive me! help me!" she cried.
her husband stopped, looked sadly at her, and answered: "i would gladly help you, but you yourself hinder me. let me go; i must fulfill your directions."
at that moment she awoke. she was bathed in a cold perspiration, and clutched wildly at the coverlet with both hands. there was no one near her, but she clearly felt someone's presence, and was convinced that she had really seen her husband a moment before. in her ears resounded his words: "i must fulfill your directions!" directions? what directions?
she sprang up, and began to feel about over the carpet with her bare feet, looking for her slippers. a terrible thought had come into her mind. she felt that she must settle it at once. she must take the will, take it away from there! burn it! destroy it! she feverishly drew on her dressing gown, and threw a shawl over her shoulders.
"rita! get up quick! quick! come!"
the frightened maid rose, still half asleep, and rubbed her eyes, understanding nothing. her mistress' ice-cold hands clutched her, and dragged her somewhere.
"ach lieber gott . . . gott in himmel!" she muttered. "what has happened? what do you want?"
"hush! come quick!" and olga vseslavovna, with a candle in her trembling hand, went forward, dragging the trembling rita with her. she opened the door of her bedroom, and went out. all the doors were open en suite, and straight in front of her, in the center of the fourth, shone the coffin of her husband, covered with cloth of gold and lit up by the tall tapers standing round the bier.
"what does it mean?" whispered the general's wife. "why have they opened all the doors?"
"i do not know . . . they were all closed last night," murmured the maid in reply, her teeth chattering with fear. she longed to ask her mistress whither they were going, and what for? she wanted to stop, and not enter the funeral chamber; but she was afraid to speak.
they passed quickly through the rooms; at the door of the last the general's wife set her candle down on a chair, and halted for a moment. the loud snoring of the reader startled them both.
"it is the deacon!" whispered the general's wife reassuringly. rita had hardly strength to nod assent. all the same, the healthy snoring of a living man comforted her. without moving from where she stood, the maid tremblingly drew her woolen shawl closer about her, trying to see the sofa on which the deacon lay.
knitting her brows, and biting her lips till they were sore, olga vseslavovna went forward determinedly to the bier. she thrust both hands under the flowers on the pillow. the frill was untouched. the satin of the cushion was there, but where was . . . ? her heart, that had been beating like a hammer, suddenly stopped and stood still. there was not a trace of the will!
"perhaps i have forgotten. perhaps it was on the other side," thought olga vseslavovna, and went round to the left side of the coffin.
no! it was not there, either! where was it? who could have taken it? suddenly her heart failed her utterly, and she clutched at the edge of the coffin to keep herself from falling. it seemed to her that under the stiff, pallid, rigidly clasped hands of the dead general something gleamed white through the transparent muslin of the covering, something like a piece of paper.
"nonsense! self-suggestion! it is impossible! hallucination!" the thought flashed through her tortured brain. she forced herself to be calm, and to look again.
yes! she had not been mistaken. the white corner of a folded paper appeared clearly against the general's dark uniform. at the same moment a cold draught coming from somewhere set the tapers flickering. shadows danced around the room, over the bier, across the dead man's face; and in the quick change of light and shadow it seemed to her that the rigid features became more living, that a mournful smile formed itself on the closed lips, that the tightly- shut eyelids quivered. a wild cry rang through the whole room. with a desperate shriek: "his eyes! he is looking at me!" the general's wife staggered forward and fell fainting to the floor, beside her husband's bier.
