On receipt of this letter, I order
you to let me know directly the state of his health, which, judging by
what I hear, is improving, and to tell me exactly the place where he was
hit, and if the wound be well healed."
Evidently Saveliitch had not been the least to blame, and it was I who
had insulted him by my suspicions and reproaches. I begged his pardon,
but the old man was inconsolable.
"That I should have lived to see it!" repeated he. "These be the thanks
that I have deserved of my masters for all my long service. I am an old
dog. I'm only fit, to keep pigs, and in addition to all this I am the
cause of your wound. No, my father, Petr' Andrejitch, 'tis not I who am
to blame, it is rather the confounded '_mossoo_;' it was he who taught
you to fight with those iron spits, stamping your foot, as though by
ramming and stamping you could defend yourself from a bad man. It was,
indeed, worth while spending money upon a '_mossoo_' to teach you that."
But who could have taken the trouble to tell my father what I had done.
The General? He did not seem to trouble himself much about me; and,
indeed, Ivan Kouzmitch had not thought it necessary to report my duel to
him. I could not think. My suspicions fell upon Chvabrine; he alone
could profit by this betrayal, which might end in my banishment from the
fort and my separation from the Commandant's family.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73