man
was inconsolable. "See to what I have lived!" he repeated; "see what
thanks I have merited from my masters for all my long services! I am an
old dog! I am a swine-herd, and more than all that, I caused your wound.
No, no, Peter, I am not in fault, it is the cursed Frenchman who taught
thee to play with these steel blades, and to stamp and dance, as if by
thrusting and dancing you could defend yourself from a bad man."
Now, then, who had taken the pains to accuse me to my father? The
General, Andrew Karlovitch? He did not trouble himself much about me;
moreover, Ivan Mironoff had not thought it worth while to report my duel
to him. My suspicions fell on Alexis. He only would find some advantage
in this information, the consequence of which might be my dismissal from
the fortress and separation from the Commandant's family. I went to tell
every thing to Marie. She met me on the doorstep.
"What has happened to you? how pale you are!"
"All's over," I replied, handing her my father's letter.
It was her turn to blanch. Having read the letter she returned it, and
said in a trembling voice: "It was not my destiny. Your parents do not
wish me in their family; may the will of God be done! He knows better
than we what is best for us. There is nothing to be done in the matter,
Peter; you, at least, may be happy."
"It shall not be so," I exclaimed, taking her hand. "You love me, I am
ready for any fate. Let us go and throw ourselves at your parents' feet.
They are simple people; they are neither haughty nor cruel; they will
give us their benediction; we will marry; and in time, I am sure, we
will soften my father. My mother will intercede for us, and he will
pardon me."
"No, Peter, I will not marry you without the benediction of your
parents. You would not be happy without their blessing. Let us submit to
the will of God. If you meet another bride, if you love her, may God be
with you! I, Peter, I will pray for both of you." Tears interrupted her,
and she went away; I wished to follow her into the house, but I was
not master of myself, and I went to my own quarters. I was plunged in
melancholy, when Saveliitch came to interrupt my reflections.
"There, my lord," said he, presenting me a sheet of paper all covered
with writing, "see if I am a spy on my master, and if I try to embroil
father and son."
I took the paper from his hand; it was his reply to my father's letter.
I could not help smiling at the old man's
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