they, oh,
no! but in your nature there is something peculiar--belonging to you
alone, something proud and mysterious; in your voice, whatever the words
spoken, there is an invincible power. No one can so constantly wish to
be loved, in no one is wickedness ever so attractive, no one's glance
promises so much bliss, no one can better make use of his advantages,
and no one can be so truly unhappy as you, because no one endeavours so
earnestly to convince himself of the contrary.

"Now I must explain the cause of my hurried departure; it will seem of
little importance to you, because it concerns me alone.

"This morning my husband came in and told me about your quarrel with
Grushnitski. Evidently I changed countenance greatly, because he looked
me in the face long and intently. I almost fainted at the thought that
you had to fight a duel to-day, and that I was the cause of it; it
seemed to me that I should go mad... But now, when I am able to reason,
I am sure that you remain alive: it is impossible that you should die,
and I not with you--impossible! My husband walked about the room for a
long time. I do not know what he said to me, I do not remember what I
answered... Most likely I told him that I loved you... I only remember
that, at the end of our conversation, he insulted me with a dreadful
word and left the room. I heard him ordering the carriage... I have been
sitting at the window three hours now, awaiting your return... But you
are alive, you cannot have died!... The carriage is almost ready...
Good-bye, good-bye!... I have perished--but what matter? If I could be
sure that you will always remember me--I no longer say love--no, only
remember... Good-bye, they are coming!... I must hide this letter.

"You do not love Mary, do you? You will not marry her? Listen, you must
offer me that sacrifice. I have lost everything in the world for you"...

Like a madman I sprang on the steps, jumped on my Circassian horse which
was being led about the courtyard, and set off at full gallop along
the road to Pyatigorsk. Unsparingly I urged on the jaded horse, which,
snorting and all in a foam, carried me swiftly along the rocky road.

The sun had already disappeared behind a black cloud, which had been
resting on the ridge of the western mountains; the gorge grew dark and
damp. The Podkumok, forcing its way over the rocks, roared with a hollow
and monotonous sound. I galloped on, choking with impatience. The idea
of not find