The Queen of Spades and Other Stories Page 7
‘On the other hand General-in-chief Kiril Troyekurov, son of Piotr Troyekurov, on the third day of January of the present year petitioned this Court to find that although the said Guards-Lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky had put forward in connexion with this affair the procuration issued by his deceased father Gavril Dubrovsky to Titular-Councillor Sobolev referring to the estate sold to him he had not put forward concerning the same either any genuine deed of sale or even any clear evidence of the existence at any time of any such deed as required by the general regulations in Section 19 of the Statute of the twenty-ninth day of November of the year 1752. Wherefore the procuration itself, now, following on the death of its donor, his father, by the provisions of the Statute of the —th day of May of the year 1818 is wholly invalid. Moreover [the Statute requires] that possession of estates in dispute be restored – with the number of serfs enumerated in the purchase deeds, not the number actually found on inspection.
‘Concerning this said estate belonging to his father the deeds have been put forward by him in proof of his title, according to which deeds it follows, by reason of the said Statute, that the estate be removed from the wrongful possession of the said Dubrovsky and given back to him as the rightful owner thereof by inheritance. And the said landowner Dubrovsky having possession of property not belonging to him and to which he had no title whatsoever, and having wrongfully enjoyed revenues from the said estate not belonging to him, after calculation of the amount due… be required to give to him Troyekurov satisfaction. After consideration of the said matter and of the provisions of the relevant Statutes the —— District Court decrees that:
‘Whereas it appears that General-in-chief Kiril Troyekurov, son of Piotr Troyekurov, concerning the said disputed estate now in possession of Guards-Lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky, son of Gavril Dubrovsky, comprising the village of Kistenyovka, having, according to the current — census — male serfs, together with land and appurtenances, has put forward a genuine deed of sale of the same to his late father, Provincial Secretary, afterwards Collegiate-Assessor, in the year 17— by Clerk-in-Chancery Fadei Spitsyn of the nobility. And Whereas the said purchaser, as appears from the signature on the said title deed, was in the same year introduced into possession by the District Court of——, such estate having been already bequeathed to him. And Whereas in denial of this Guards-Lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky has put forward a deed of procuration delivered by the deceased purchaser Troyekurov to Titular-Councillor Sobolev for the completion of the deed of purchase in the name of his father, Dubrovsky. And Whereas the —— Statute not only prohibits the confirmation by such means of ownership of such real estate, but also prohibits any provisional entering into possession [thereof]. And Whereas the deed of procuration itself is completely annulled by the death of the donor – And Whereas in addition to this Dubrovsky since the beginning of the inquiry, that is, from the year 18— has to this day put forward no clear evidence that any title in respect of the said disputed estate was ever at any time or place actually completed in accordance with the deed of procuration – Now therefore this Court decrees that the said estate, with — serfs, land and appurtenances, wherever they may now be, be confirmed in favour of General-in-chief Troyekurov in accordance with the deed of procuration by a deed of purchase; be removed from the disposal of the said Guards-Lieutenant Dubrovsky and placed in the possession of the rightful owner, Troyekurov, and seisin granted to him as by right of inheritance, and [the said estate] be registered at the District Court of—. And Whereas General-in-chief Troyekurov further requests recovery from Guards-Lieutenant Dubrovsky in respect of his unlawful possession of the estate inherited by him and his enjoyment of the revenues therefrom. And Whereas this said estate, according to the testimony of the old inhabitants, was held for a period of years in undisputed and undisturbed possession by the Dubrovskys. And Whereas it does not appear that Troyekurov has until the present time put forward any petition concerning such unlawful possession by the Dubrovskys of the said estate, And Whereas the law requires that
‘In the case where a man shall sow the ground of another or fence round his land, and humble petition be made concerning his unlawful seizure, and the matter be thoroughly investigated, then the said land shall be restored to the rightful owner together with the emplements and the fencing and the outbuildings thereof,
‘Now therefore this Court decrees in the claim made against Guards-Lieutenant Dubrovsky that seisin be given to General-in-chief Troyekurov and the estate returned into his possession in its entirety, without reservation or exception. And that upon his taking possession the whole be returned to him without reservation or exception, General-in-chief Troyekurov having the right to petition the Court in case of need and to put in such further legitimate evidence as he may possess. The Court having notified plaintiff and defendant alike that its ruling is based on legal principles, and is in accordance with legal form, summons both the one and the other to attend for the hearing of this ruling and to sign their satisfaction or dissatisfaction through the appropriate channels.
‘This ruling has been signed by all present at this Court.’
The secretary finished. The assessor stood up and with a low bow turned to Troyekurov, inviting him to sign the paper which he held out. The triumphant Troyekurov, taking the pen from him, wrote beneath the decision of the Court that he was completely satisfied with it.
It was Dubrovsky’s turn. The secretary handed him the document, but Dubrovsky stood stock-still with bent head. The secretary repeated his invitation ‘to subscribe his full and complete satisfaction, or his thorough dissatisfaction, if, contrary to expectation, his conscience told him that his case was a righteous one, and he intended within the appointed time to appeal against the decision of the Court’.
Dubrovsky said nothing…. Suddenly he raised his head, his eyes flashed, he stamped his foot, pushed the secretary with such force that the man fell, seized the inkstand and hurled it at the assessor, shouting in a wild voice: ‘Have you no respect for the church of God! Out of my sight, you offspring of Ham!’ Then, turning to Kiril Petrovich, ‘It is unheard of, your excellency! Huntsmen bring their hounds into the church of God! Dogs run about in church! I’ll teach you!’
Everybody was appalled. The ushers came in on hearing the uproar and with difficulty managed to overpower him. He was taken out and put on his sledge. Troyekurov walked out after him, accompanied by all the officials. Dubrovsky’s sudden madness was a great shock to him and it spoiled his triumph. The justices, who had counted upon his gratitude, were not honoured with one single affable word. He went straight back to Pokrovskoe, smitten with secret remorse and not altogether enjoying the gratification of his hatred. Dubrovsky, meanwhile, lay on a bed. The district doctor (luckily not entirely an ignoramus) bled him and applied leeches, and blistered him with Spanish flies. Towards evening he began to feel better, and the next day he was taken to Kistenyovka, which scarcely belonged to him any more.
3
SOME time elapsed but poor Dubrovsky was still far from well. True, there were no more attacks of madness but his strength was visibly failing. He forgot his former occupations, rarely left his room and for days together sat lost in thought. Yegorovna, a kind-hearted old woman who had once nursed his son, now tended him. She cared for him as though he were a child, reminded him when it was time to eat or sleep, fed him and even put him to bed. Dubrovsky obeyed her and had nothing to do with any one else. He was in no state to think about his affairs or to look after his property, and Yegorovna decided that she must lay the whole situation before young Dubrovsky, who was then serving in one of the regiments of Foot Guards stationed in Petersburg. And so, tearing a leaf from an account-book, she dictated a letter to Hariton the cook, who was the only person in Kistenyovka who could read and write, and sent it into town that same day to be posted.
But it is time for the reader to become acquainted with the real hero of our story.
Vladimir Dubrovsky had been brought up in the Cadet Corps,1
and had joined the Guards with the rank of cornet. His father spared nothing to keep him as befitted his position, and the young man received more money from home than he had any right to expect. Irresponsible and ambitious, he indulged in extravagant habits, played cards, ran into debt and troubled himself very little about the future. Occasionally the thought crossed his mind that sooner or later he would be obliged to take to himself a rich bride.
One evening, while several fellow officers were sprawling about on the couches in his rooms and smoking his pipes with amber mouth-pieces, Grisha his valet handed him a letter. The seal and the handwriting of the address at once attracted the young man’s attention. He opened it hastily and read as follows:
Our dear Master Vladimir Andreyevich,
I, your old nurse, venture to inform you of the health of your papa. He is very poorly, and sometimes wanders in his talk, and sits all day long like a foolish child – but life and death are in the bands of God. Come home to us, my dearie, we will send the horses to meet you at Pesotchnoe. They tell us the District Court is coming to hand us over to Kiril Petrovich Troyekurov, because they say we belong to him – but we have always belonged to you and have always heard so ever since we can remember. Living in Petersburg you could tell our Father the Tsar about this, and he would not let us be wronged. It has been raining here these two weeks now, and Rodya the shepherd died on St Nicolas day. I send a mother’s blessing to Grisha. Does be serve you well? I remain yours truly, your faithful servant
Nurse Arina Yegorovna Buzireva.
Vladimir Dubrovsky read these somewhat confused lines several times with profound emotion. He had lost his mother in early childhood and hardly knew his father, haying been taken to Petersburg at the age of eight. Nevertheless, he felt a romantic attachment to him and an affection for family life all the stronger for having had so little opportunity to enjoy its peaceful pleasures.
The thought of losing his father distressed him acutely, and the condition of the sick man, which he guessed from his old nurse’s letter, horrified him. He pictured his father left helpless in an out-of-the-way village in the hands of a foolish old woman and the other servants, threatened with some calamity and gradually sinking in physical and mental agony. Vladimir reproached himself with criminal neglect. Although it was months since he had had news of his father he had not thought of inquiring after him, imagining he was away somewhere or busy about the estate. That same evening he took steps to obtain leave of absence, and two days later set out in the stage coach, accompanied by his faithful Grisha.
Vladimir Andreyevich neared the post-station where he had to turn off for Kistenyovka. His heart was full of sad forebodings; he feared that he would no longer find his father alive. His imagination conjured up visions of the melancholy existence awaiting him in the country: a desolate village, no neighbours, poverty and business responsibilities to which he was an utter stranger. Arriving at the station, he went to the post-master and asked if there were any horses for hire. When the post-master heard where he was bound for he said that horses from Kistenyovka had been waiting for him for the last four days. Presently Anton, the old coachman who used to look after his pony and take him round the stables, came up. Anton’s eyes filled with tears when he saw Vladimir. Bowing very low, he told him that the old master was still alive, and then ran to harness the horses. Vladimir refused the offer of something to eat, anxious to be on the road. Anton drove him along cart-tracks across country, and they started to talk.
‘Tell me, Anton, what is this lawsuit between my father and Troyekurov?’
‘The Lord only knows, Vladimir Andreyevich, sir. Our master, they say, fell out with Kiril Petrovich, and that one went to law about it, though often enough he takes the law into his own hands. ’Tis not for us servants to try to understand our betters but really and truly a mistake it was for your father to cross Kiril Petrovich: you might just as well go knocking your head against a brick wall.’
‘It seems, then, that this Kiril Petrovich Troyekurov can do just what he likes with you all?’
‘That’s the way of it, sir: they say he don’t care a fig for the Governor, and the police-captain is at his beck and call; the gentry dance attendance on him. “Set down a trough, and the pigs will come,” as the saying is.’
‘Is it true that he wants to take our estate from us?’
‘That’s what we have heard, sir. T’other day the sacristan from Pokrovskoe said at the christening in our foreman’s house: “Your good times are over! Kiril Petrovich is taking you in hand!” And Nikita the blacksmith answered him: “Come now, Savelish, don’t go grieving our host and upsetting the guests. Kiril Petrovich is what he is, and Andrei Gavrilovich is what he is, and all of us are God’s people and the Tsar’s.” But you can’t shut other people’s mouths.’
‘So you don’t want to go to Troyekurov?’
‘Go to Kiril Petrovich? God save us and preserve us! His own serfs fare bad enough, and if he got his hands on other people’s he’d not only flay the skin off their backs but rip the flesh away too. No, God grant long life to Andrei Gavrilovich; and if he is taken we don’t want no master but you, our benefactor. Don’t you be giving us up, and we will stay by you.’
With these words Anton flourished his whip, gave the reins a shake, and the horses broke into a brisk trot.
Touched by the devotion of the old coachman, Dubrovsky fell silent and settled down to his own reflections. An hour or more passed; suddenly Grisha roused him by exclaiming: ‘There’s Pokrovskoe!’ Dubrovsky looked up. They were driving along the bank of a broad lake, from which a little river flowed, winding among the hills and disappearing in the distance. On one of the hills, above the thick verdure of the trees, rose the green roof and the belvedere of a huge stone house. On another hill there was a church with five cupolas and an ancient belfry, and round about were peasant huts with their wells and kitchen-gardens. Dubrovsky recognized the place: he remembered that he used to play on that very hill with little Masha Troyekurov, who was two years younger than he and who even then gave promise of turning into a beauty. He wanted to ask Anton about her, but a sort of shyness restrained him.
As they were driving past the manor-house he had a glimpse of a white frock flitting between the trees in the garden. At that moment Anton whipped up the horses and, impelled by the vanity which possesses town cab-drivers and country coachmen alike, dashed headlong across the bridge and past the garden. Leaving the village behind, they drove up a hill, and Vladimir caught sight of the copse of birch-trees and, in an open space to the left, the little grey house with its red roof. His heart began to beat – Kistenyovka and his father’s shabby dwelling lay before him.
Ten minutes later he was driving into the courtyard. He looked about him with indescribable emotion: it was twelve years since he had seen his birthplace. The birch-saplings which had then only just been planted along the fence had grown into tall spreading trees. The courtyard, formerly adorned with three symmetrical flower-beds with a wide carefully swept path between them, was now a meadow with long grass where a tethered horse was grazing. The dogs began to bark but, recognizing Anton, subsided and wagged their shaggy tails. The servants came rushing out of their cottages to surround their young master with noisy manifestations of joy. He had difficulty in squeezing through the eager crowd to run up the dilapidated steps. Yegorovna met him in the porch and threw herself weeping on his neck.
‘Well, nurse, well!’ he repeated, pressing the worthy old woman to his heart. ‘And my father? Where is he? How is he?’
At that moment a tall old man in a dressing-gown and night-cap, pale and thin, came into the room, dragging one foot after the other.
‘Where is my Vladimir?’ he said in a weak voice, and Vladimir warmly embraced his father.
The joy proved too much for the invalid. He faltered, his legs gave way under him, and but for his son’s support he would have fallen.