ame was Grigori Aleksandrovich Pechorin. He was a splendid fellow,
I can assure you, but a little peculiar. Why, to give you an instance,
one time he would stay out hunting the whole day, in the rain and cold;
the others would all be frozen through and tired out, but he wouldn't
mind either cold or fatigue. Then, another time, he would be sitting in
his own room, and, if there was a breath of wind, he would declare that
he had caught cold; if the shutters rattled against the window he
would start and turn pale: yet I myself have seen him attack a boar
single-handed. Often enough you couldn't drag a word out of him for
hours together; but then, on the other hand, sometimes, when he started
telling stories, you would split your sides with laughing. Yes, sir,
a very eccentric man; and he must have been wealthy too. What a lot of
expensive trinkets he had!"...

"Did he stay there long with you?" I went on to ask.

"Yes, about a year. And, for that very reason, it was a memorable year
to me. He gave me a great deal of trouble--but there, let bygones be
bygones!... You see, it is true enough, there are people like that,
fated from birth to have all sorts of strange things happening to them!"

"Strange?" I exclaimed, with an air of curiosity, as I poured out some
tea.

CHAPTER III

"WELL, then, I'll tell you," said Maksim Maksimych. "About six versts
from the fortress there lived a certain 'friendly' prince. His son, a
brat of about fifteen, was accustomed to ride over to visit us. Not a
day passed but he would come, now for one thing, now for another. And,
indeed, Grigori Aleksandrovich and I spoiled him. What a dare-devil the
boy was! Up to anything, picking up a cap at full gallop, or bringing
things down with his gun! He had one bad quality; he was terribly
greedy for money. Once, for the fun of the thing, Grigori Aleksandrovich
promised to give him a ducat if he would steal the best he-goat from his
father's herd for him; and, what do you think? The very next night he
came lugging it in by the horns! At times we used to take it into our
heads to tease him, and then his eyes would become bloodshot and his
hand would fly to his dagger immediately.

"'You'll be losing your life if you are not careful, Azamat,' I would
say to him. 'That hot head of yours will get you into trouble.'

"On one occasion, the old prince himself came to invite us to the
wedding of his eldest daughter; and, as we were guest-friends with