"This Mr...Mr...what's his name? Mr.Konopatin brought the news."Valentina Mihailovna glanced at Paklin; the latter bowed dejectedly.("What a glorious woman!" he thought.Even in such difficult moments...alas! how susceptible Paklin was to feminine beauty!)"And you want to go to town at this hour?""I think the governor will still be up."
"I always said it would end like this," Kollomietzev put in."It couldn't have been otherwise! But what dears our peasants are really! Pardon, madame, c'est votre frere! Mais la verite avant tout!""Do you really intend going to town, Boris? " Valentina Mihailovna asked.
"I feel absolutely certain," Kollomietzev continued, "that that tutor, Mr.Nejdanov, is mixed up in this.J'en mettrais ma main au feu.It's all one gang! Haven't they seized him? Don't you know?"Sipiagin waved his wrist again.
"I don't know--and don't want to know! By the way," he added, turning to his wife, " il parait qu'il sont maries.""Who said so? That same gentleman?" Valentina Mihailovna looked at Paklin again, this time with half-closed eyes.
"Yes."
"In that case," Kollomietzev put in, "he must know where they are.Do you know where they are? Do you know? Eh? Do you know?"Kollomietzev took to walking up and down in front of Paklin as if to cut off his way, although the latter had not betrayed the slightest inclination of wanting to run away."Why don't you speak? Answer me! Do you know, eh? Do you know?""Even if I knew," Paklin began, annoyed; his wrath had risen up in him at last and his eyes flashed fire: "even if I knew I would not tell you.""Oh...oh..." Kollomietzev muttered."Do you hear? Do you hear? This one too--this one too is of their gang!""The carriage is ready!" a footman announced loudly.Sipiagin with a quick graceful movement seized his hat, but Valentina Mihailovna was so insistent in her persuasions for him to put off the journey until the morning and brought so many convincing arguments to bear--such as: that it was pitch dark outside, that everybody in town would be asleep, that he would only upset his nerves and might catch cold--that Sipiagin at length came to agree with her.
"I obey!" he exclaimed, and with the same graceful gesture, not so rapid this time, replaced his hat on the table.
"I shall not want the carriage now," he said to the footman, "but see that it's ready at six o'clock in the morning! Do you hear?
'You can go now! But stay! See that the gentleman's carriage is sent off and the driver paid...I What? Did you say anything, Mr.
Konopatin? I am going to take you to town with me tomorrow, Mr.
Konopatin! What did you say? I can't hear...Do you take vodka? Give Mr.Konopatin some vodka! No? You don't drink? In that case...Feodor! take the gentleman into the green room!
Goodnight, Mr.Kono-"
Paklin lost all patience.
"Paklin!" he shouted, "my name is Paklin!""Oh, yes...it makes no difference.A bit alike, you know.
What a powerful voice you have for your spare build! Till tomorrow, Mr.Paklin....Have I got it right this time?
Simeon, vous viendrez.avec nous?"
"Je crois bien!"
Paklin was conducted into the green room and locked in.He distinctly heard the key turned in the English lock as he got into bed.He scolded himself severely for his "brilliant idea"and slept very badly.
He was awakened early the next morning at half-past five and given coffee.As he drank it a footman with striped shoulder-knots stood over him with the tray in his hand, shifting from one leg to the other as though he were saying, "Hurry up! the gentlemen are waiting!" He was taken downstairs.The carriage was already waiting at the door.Kollomietzev's open carriage was also there.Sipiagin appeared on the steps in a cloak made of camel's hair with a round collar.Such cloaks had long ago ceased to be worn except by a certain important dignitary whom Sipiagin pandered to and wished to imitate.On important official occasions he invariably put on this cloak.
Sipiagin greeted Paklin affably, and with an energetic movement of the hand pointed to the carriage and asked him to take his seat."Mr.Paklin, you are coming with me, Mr.Paklin! Put your bag on the box, Mr.Paklin! I am taking Mr.Paklin," he said, emphasising the word "Paklin" with special stress on the letter a."You have an awful name like that and get insulted when people change it for you--so here you are then! Take your fill of it!
Mr.Paklin! Paklin!" The unfortunate name rang out clearly in the cool morning air.It was so keen as to make Kollomietzev, who came out after Sipiagin, exclaim several times in French...
"Brrr! brrr! brrr!" He wrapped his cloak more closely about him and seated himself in his elegant carriage with the hood thrown back.(Had his poor friend Michael Obrenovitch, the Servian prince, seen it, he would certainly have bought one like it at Binder's...."Vous savez Binder, le grand carrossier des Champs Elysees?")Valentina Mihailovna, still in her night garments, peeped out from behind the half-open shutters of her bedroom.Sipiagin waved his hand to her from the carriage.
"Are you quite comfortable, Mr.Paklin? Go on!""Je vous recommande mon frere, epargnez-le!" Valentina Mihailovna said.
"Soyez tranquille!" Kollomietzev exclaimed, glancing up at her quickly from under the brim of his travelling cap--one of his own special design with a cockade in it--"C'est surtout l'autre, qu'il faut pincer!""Go on!" Sipiagin exclaimed again."You are not cold, Mr.Paklin?
Go on!"
The two carriages rolled away.
