Who wrote Dubrovsky's summary. "Dubrovsky": history of creation. N.G. Chernyshevsky wrote about this novel: “It is difficult to find in Russian literature a more accurate and vivid picture, like the description of the life and habits of the big gentleman of old times at the beginning of the story
Year of writing:
1833
Reading time:
Description of the work:
It is interesting that the publishers named the novel in 1841, when its first publication took place, because Pushkin himself in the manuscript, instead of the title, wrote the date of the start of work on the novel “October 21, 1832.”
Read a summary of the novel by Dubrovsky.
A rich and noble gentleman, Kirila Petrovich Troekurov, lives in his Pokrovskoye estate. Knowing his tough temper, all his neighbors are afraid of him, except for the poor landowner Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky, a retired guard lieutenant and former colleague of Troekurov. Both of them are widowers. Dubrovsky has a son, Vladimir, who works in St. Petersburg, and Troekurov has a daughter, Masha, who lives with her father, and Troekurov often talks about his desire to marry his children.
An unexpected disagreement quarrels friends, and Dubrovsky’s proud and independent behavior alienates them from each other even more. The autocratic and all-powerful Troyekurov, in order to take out his irritation, decides to deprive Dubrovsky of his estate and orders the assessor Shabashkin to find a “legal” path to this lawlessness. The court's tricksters fulfill Troekurov's wishes, and Dubrovsky is summoned to the zemstvo judge to decide the case.
At the court hearing, in the presence of the litigants, a decision is read, filled with legal incidents, according to which Dubrovsky's Kistenevka estate becomes the property of Troekurov, and Dubrovsky suffers a fit of insanity.
Dubrovsky's health is deteriorating, and the old serf woman Yegorovna, who was looking after him, writes a letter to Vladimir Dubrovsky in St. Petersburg notifying him of what happened. Having received the letter, Vladimir Dubrovsky takes his leave and goes home. The dear coachman tells him about the circumstances of the case. At home he finds his father sick and decrepit.
Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky is slowly dying. Troekurov, tormented by his conscience, goes to make peace with Dubrovsky, who is paralyzed at the sight of the enemy. Vladimir orders Troekurov to get out, and at that moment old Dubrovsky dies.
After Dubrovsky’s funeral, judicial officials and the police officer come to Kistenevka to introduce Troekurov into ownership. The peasants refuse to obey and want to deal with the officials. Dubrovsky stops them.
At night, in the house, Dubrovsky finds the blacksmith Arkhip, who has decided to kill the clerks, and dissuades him from this intention. He decides to leave the estate and orders all the people to be taken out to set the house on fire. He sends Arkhip to unlock the doors so that the officials can leave the house, but Arkhip violates the master’s order and locks the door. Dubrovsky sets fire to the house and quickly leaves the yard, and the clerks die in the resulting fire.
Dubrovsky is suspected of arson and murder of officials. Troekurov sends a report to the governor, and a new case begins. But then another event distracts everyone’s attention from Dubrovsky: robbers appeared in the province who robbed all the landowners of the province, but did not touch only Troekurov’s property. Everyone is sure that the leader of the robbers is Dubrovsky.
For his illegitimate son, Sasha Troekurov, orders a French teacher from Moscow, Monsieur Deforge, who is greatly impressed by the beauty of seventeen-year-old Marya Kirilovna Troekurov, but she does not pay any attention to the hired teacher. Deforge is put to the test by being pushed into a room with a hungry bear (a common joke with guests in Troekurov's house). The unperturbed teacher kills the beast. His determination and courage make a great impression on Masha. A friendly rapprochement occurs between them, which becomes a source of love. On the day of the temple holiday, guests come to Troekurov's house. At dinner the conversation turns to Dubrovsky. One of the guests, a landowner named Anton Pafnutich Spitsyn, admits that he once gave false testimony in court against Dubrovsky in favor of Kirila Petrovich. One lady reports that a week ago Dubrovsky dined with her, and tells the story that her clerk, sent to the post office with a letter and 2000 rubles for her son, a guards officer, returned and said that Dubrovsky had robbed him, but was caught lies by a man who came to visit her and identified himself as a former colleague of her late husband. The clerk who was called says that Dubrovsky actually stopped him on the way to the post office, but, after reading the mother’s letter to her son, he did not rob him. The money was found in the clerk's chest. The lady believes that the person who pretended to be her husband’s friend was Dubrovsky himself. But according to her descriptions, she had a man about 35 years old, and Troekurov knows for certain that Dubrovsky is 23 years old. This fact is confirmed by the new police officer dining with Troekurov.
The holiday in Troyekurov's house ends with a ball, at which the teacher also dances. After dinner, Anton Pafnutich, who has a large sum of money with him, expresses a desire to spend the night in the same room with Deforge, since he already knows about the Frenchman’s courage and hopes for his protection in the event of an attack by robbers. The teacher agrees to Anton Pafnutich's request. At night, the landowner feels like someone is trying to take away his money hidden in a bag on his chest. Opening his eyes, he sees Deforge standing over him with a pistol. The teacher tells Anton Pafnutich that he is Dubrovsky.
How did Dubrovsky get into Troekurov’s house under the guise of a teacher? At the post station he met a Frenchman on his way to see Troyekurov, gave him 10 thousand rubles, and received the teacher’s papers in return. With these documents, he came to Troekurov and settled in a house where everyone loved him and did not suspect who he really was. Finding himself in the same room with a man whom, not without reason, he could consider his enemy, Dubrovsky could not resist the temptation to take revenge. In the morning, Spitsyn leaves Troekurov’s house without saying a word about the night’s incident. Soon the rest of the guests left. Life in Pokrovsky goes on as usual. Marya Kirilovna feels love for Deforge and is annoyed with herself. Deforge treats her with respect, and this calms her pride. But one day Deforge secretly gives her a note in which he asks for a date. At the appointed time, Masha arrives at the appointed place, and Deforge informs her that he is forced to leave soon, but before that he must tell her something important. Suddenly he reveals to Masha who he really is. Calming the frightened Masha, he says that he has forgiven her father. That it was she who saved Kirila Petrovich, that the house in which Marya Kirilovna lives is sacred to him. During Dubrovsky's confessions, a soft whistle is heard. Dubrovsky asks Masha to give him a promise that in case of misfortune she will resort to his help, and disappears. Returning to the house, Masha finds an alarm there, and her father informs her that Deforge, according to the police officer who arrived, is none other than Dubrovsky. The disappearance of the teacher confirms the truth of these words.
The following summer, Prince Vereisky returns from foreign lands to his estate Arbatov, located 30 versts from Pokrovsky. He pays a visit to Troekurov, and Masha amazes him with her beauty. Troekurov and his daughter pay a return visit. Vereisky gives them a wonderful reception.
Masha sits in her room and embroiders. A hand reaches out through the open window and places a letter on her hoop, but at this time Masha is called to her father. She hides the letter and goes. She finds Vereisky at her father’s, and Kirila Petrovich informs her that the prince is wooing her. Masha freezes in surprise and turns pale, but her father does not pay attention to her tears.
In her room, Masha thinks with horror about marriage to Vereisky and believes that it is better to marry Dubrovsky. Suddenly she remembers the letter and finds only one phrase in it: “In the evening at 10 o’clock in the same place.”
During a night date, Dubrovsky persuades Masha to resort to his protection. Masha hopes to touch her father's heart with pleas and requests. But if he turns out to be inexorable and forces her to marry, she invites Dubrovsky to come for her and promises to become his wife. In parting, Dubrovsky gives Masha a ring and says that if trouble happens, she will only have to lower the ring into the hollow of the specified tree, then he will know what to do.
The wedding is being prepared, and Masha decides to take action. She writes a letter to Vereisky, begging him to refuse her hand. But this gives the opposite result. Having learned about Masha's letter, Kirila Petrovich is furious and schedules the wedding for the next day. Masha tearfully asks him not to marry her to Vereisky, but Kirila Petrovich is inexorable, and then Masha declares that she will resort to Dubrovsky’s defense. Having locked Masha, Kirila Petrovich leaves, ordering not to let her out of the room.
Sasha comes to the aid of Marya Kirilovna. Masha instructs him to take the ring to the hollow. Sasha carries out her instructions, but some ragged boy who sees this tries to take possession of the ring. A fight breaks out between the boys, the gardener comes to Sasha’s aid, and the boy is taken to the manor’s yard. Suddenly they meet Kirila Petrovich, and Sasha, under threats, tells him about the assignment that his sister gave him. Kirila Petrovich guesses about Masha’s relationship with Dubrovsky. He orders the caught boy to be locked up and sends for the police officer. The police officer and Troekurov agree on something and release the boy. He runs to Kistenevka, and from there secretly makes his way into the Kistenevka grove.
Preparations for the wedding are underway in Troyekurov's house. Masha is taken to church, where her groom is waiting for her. The wedding begins. Masha's hopes for Dubrovsky's appearance evaporate. The young people are traveling to Arbatovo, when suddenly on a country road the carriage is surrounded by armed people, and a man in a half mask opens the doors. He tells Masha that she is free. Hearing that it is Dubrovsky, the prince shoots and wounds him. They seize the prince and intend to kill him, but Dubrovsky does not order them to touch him. Dubrovsky again tells Masha that she is free, but Masha replies that it is too late. Due to pain and excitement, Dubrovsky loses consciousness, and his accomplices take him away.
In the forest there is a military fortification of a bandit gang, behind a small rampart there are several huts. An old woman comes out of one hut and asks the guard, who is singing a robber's song, to shut up, because the master is sleeping. Dubrovsky lies in the hut. Suddenly there is alarm in the camp. The robbers under the command of Dubrovsky occupy places assigned to each. The guards who came running reported that there were soldiers in the forest. A battle ensues, in which victory is on the side of the robbers. A few days later, Dubrovsky gathers his associates and announces his intention to leave them. Dubrovsky disappears. Rumor has it that he fled abroad.
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Dubrovsky is the main character of the novel - the son of a poor landowner Andrei Dubrovsky. He is a very brave, serious man, his appearance is quite attractive, although at first glance he did not stand out very much among the nobles. He had a rather pale face, a straight nose and brown hair. Particularly noteworthy is his voice. It is very sonorous and charming. All this makes him look very noble.
It is also worth noting his other equally important good qualities: kindness, honesty, generosity, mannerisms, generosity, courage. But there were also some shortcomings in him, such as wastefulness, gambling addiction. While in St. Petersburg, he lost a lot of money at cards. But his most important and good quality is humanity. He loved his father very much and worried about his health; his undoubted spiritual kindness is also shown by the fact that he loved his father’s serfs very much. The fact that Dubrovsky is truly kind is also evidenced by the fact that he fell in love with Maria, although her father, Kirill Petrovich Troekurov, was his sworn enemy. Vladimir was ready to forgive any grievances related to money, as long as Masha’s heart belonged only to him.
For this man there was no difficulty in practically anything, he easily learned French, pretended to be a teacher, and practiced dancing and singing with Maria for a long time. He also taught Troekurov’s son, Sasha, and taught him geography and arithmetic.
The incident when Dubrovsky was thrown into a room with a bear (Troekurov liked to do such things, he liked to feel the fear of people) also shows his courage; instead of screaming and calling for help, he kills the bear. But we should not forget that he was still a vindictive person. After all, it was he who came up with this cunning plan to take revenge on Troekurov, from whose murder Vladimir’s love for his daughter saves him.
Dubrovsky was a man who was wise and intelligent beyond his years. After all, any case related to robbery and crime is very difficult to do without leaving traces. It is also worth noting that Vladimir knew human psychology well. He knew how to negotiate with a real teacher, how to ingratiate himself with Troekurov so that he would not even understand that he was dealing with Dubrovsky. In many matters he can overcome himself and this is very good for absolutely any person.
I believe that Vladimir Dubrovsky is a real man with invaluable qualities and skills, with a huge reserve of wisdom, kindness and knowledge.
Option 2
Vladimir Dubrovsky was the son of a poor landowner. A young man aged twenty-three, of average height, large brown eyes and brown hair. Typically Slavic appearance. There are many such men in Russia. A well-produced voice knows how to give majesty to the appearance.
Behind this lies a little boy who was left without a mother at an early age. And his father, not knowing what to do with him, sent him to study military science in the Cadet Corps. It was located in St. Petersburg. Then he was released into the guards and served in the guards regiment. It seemed that fate had finally smiled on the poor boy. And a brilliant military career awaits him.
Balls, beauties, champagne until the morning. He loses and spends all the money his father sends him. It seems to him that such a life will always be.
But it was not there! Fate decided to test Vladimir's strength. His father dies suddenly, and he was forced to leave military service and move to live on the family estate. But fate did not stop there. Due to a quarrel with his father, Troyekurov's long-time neighbor takes away his estate through the court. Dubrovsky sets the house on fire so that the offender does not get it, dismisses the servants and takes the path of robbery.
The surrounding estates burst into flames. He robs everyone on the roads. But not in a state of blind rage. He returned the money that was intended for the guards officer. But Troekurov’s estate stands safe and sound. Vladimir is developing a plan. He decides to take brutal revenge on the offender. To do this, he pretends to be a French teacher and enters Troekurov’s house. What interesting thing did he want to do? But could he have thought that he would fall in love with the daughter of his enemy, Masha.
The feeling was mutual. Young people decide to flee abroad. And again fate tests Vladimir’s strength. His note, intended for his girlfriend, ends up in the wrong place. Maria is forcibly married to an unloved man - an old prince. For Troekurov, her future fate is not important. After all, the prince will pay a lot of money for Masha.
And what to take from Dubrovsky? He is poor and not a landowner, and not a military man. Yes, even if he were rich, Troekurov still would not marry his daughter to him.
Dubrovsky no longer holds anything in his native land, he disbands his gang and leaves his native place forever. The robberies and robberies stopped. Left without a leader, the peasants scattered in all directions. If rumors are to be believed, he is leaving abroad. No one will pursue him there.
Dubrovsky is a contradictory nature. On the one hand, he is honest, kind, brave, on the other hand, he has taken the path of robbery, since legal methods of struggle do not help. These are the Russian people. Therefore, foreigners cannot understand our man.
Essay about Vladimir Dubrovsky
Vladimir Dubrovsky is one of the main characters of the work, who throughout the narrative turns from a young rake into a noble and honest young man.
At the beginning of the story, Vladimir is described by the author as a young officer leading an idle lifestyle, not caring about the availability of financial resources, recklessly confident that his father will always give him money. He carelessly spends his days having fun, playing cards, without thinking about his future life and dreaming of a rich bride.
At one point, Vladimir learns that his father is near death and without hesitation, abandoning his friends and reckless life, he hurriedly goes to his native estate.
Returning to his father’s house, Vladimir realizes that he loves and worries about his sick father very much, he terribly misses his gentle nanny, the places familiar from childhood in the area are the most reverent and beautiful.
Dubrovsky learns about the reason for his father’s illness and about the unseemly act of the neighboring landowner Troekurov, who decided to take away their family estate. A young and fearless man decides to avenge the death of his father and takes the path of robbery and robbery.
However, Vladimir does not become a robber in the literal sense of the word, since he pursues and punishes exclusively those who are guilty, from his point of view, people who, due to their greed, selfishness and stupidity, are deprived of ordinary human qualities and principles. Taking money from rich and influential people, Dubrovsky does not appropriate it for himself, but distributes the coins to needy peasants.
Dubrovsky also shows comradely feelings when he learns that the money taken in one of the attacks was intended for a guards officer. Vladimir returns them to the military man’s mother, admitting that he made a mistake and did not want to offend his officer comrade.
Having experienced a pure and sublime feeling for Troekurov’s daughter Maria, Dubrovsky understands that his love is much more important than the feeling of revenge and decides to stop his predatory activities, realizing that they are unfounded and useless.
Sample 4
This magnificent work is included in a collection of stories that represent such a goal that the reader will have the opportunity to understand how people lived at that time, and that even despite a certain generalization of concepts and images, there are still such cases thanks to which one can say that individualization is an integral part of literature. This also applies to the image of Dubrovsky, who initially belonged to the class of the nobility, but due to the fact that he lost his estate, and ceased to be such, he managed to pull himself together in time and make the right and rational decisions that only an adequate and honest person could make.
It is worth noting that the hero had a good childhood and he grew up as a very spoiled child, but despite all this, he was not an evil, selfish and insidious person. When he learned that his father was falling ill, he immediately rushed to his aid. Arriving at his native estate, he finds that the cause of his illness turns out to be a quarrel with a neighbor named Troekurov, who actually leads him to a nervous breakdown, from which his father has a heart attack, from which he eventually died. For Dubrovsky, this person is declared an enemy, and he considers the current goal of his life to begin to take revenge on him, and to do everything possible so that his father’s estate remains with him. However, according to a court decision, it passes into the hands of that same neighbor.
Then Vladimir becomes embittered by these life circumstances, and decides to become a robber, but with his own philosophy in this matter. That is, he robbed only those whom, at his own discretion, he considered bad and corrupt people who actually did not have the right to possess such large financial savings. However, when he falls in love with Masha, he almost immediately gives up the idea of taking revenge on anyone, since the girl herself becomes the goal of his life. Then he decides to get a job on that very estate, even despite the fact that he never ceases to hate Troekurov. He does this solely in order to be closer to his beloved. Also, it is worth noting that when he finds out that the girl decides to arrange her own marriage with a person she doesn’t love, he accepts her decision and does not choose the idea of revenge, leaving her alone. The work is very realistic, vivid and relevant, it shows the basics of what decisions need to be made, despite the fact that the choice can be extremely difficult.
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At the beginning of the 19th century, adventure novels were in use. Alexander Pushkin also paid tribute to fashion. In 1832, the poet’s friend Pavel Nashchokin told a story about a landowner named Ostrovsky, whose estate was taken away by a biased court. The victim organized his peasants and began to engage in robbery with them. This story from life interested Pushkin. Soon the poet wrote the first two volumes of a novel about a noble robber.
But the work remained unfinished and did not even have a title. It was published after Pushkin's death in 1841. The publisher named the novel after the name of the main character - "Dubrovsky".
main idea works – protection of human dignity. Due to a personal insult, enmity breaks out between the Troyekurov and Dubrovsky families. Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky cannot stand the unequal struggle for noble honor. He goes crazy and then dies. Then his son Vladimir begins to fight for the family property. He does not intend to give up his family nest to the enemy and prefers to burn the house in which he was born.
Even having set foot on the path of a robber, young Dubrovsky remains a man of honor. He is merciful and just, and does not oppress the poor. A lesson in observance of duty is also taught to us by Masha Troekurova, who refuses to leave her unloved husband, remaining faithful to her oath before the altar.
In the novel, Pushkin raises a very important issue of family lawlessness. Masha, like many girls of that time, could not fully control her destiny. The tyrannical father decided everything for her, not paying attention to his daughter’s desperate pleas and tears. Prince Vereisky saw in his bride only a rich and beautiful girl.
Romantic plot a work, as is often the case with Pushkin, is only an outer shell under which the content is hidden. In such novels, evil must traditionally be punished, and good must certainly triumph. But in Dubrovsky, good always loses. The insulted honor of the Dubrovskys remained unavenged, Kistenevka went to Troyekurov, Masha married the prince, Vladimir was forced to flee abroad.
"Dubrovsky" is a social novel. His main idea: laws in Russia mean nothing compared to wealth and connections. Everyone, except Dubrovsky, grovels before Troekurov and forgives him any humiliation. Even government officials are at the landlord’s beck and call. There is no place for noble people in such a society.
Touched upon in the novel and theme of popular revolt. But the peasants of Kistenevka rise against Troekurov’s power not for the sake of justice or patriarchal attachment to “their” master. “If he gets someone else’s, he’ll tear off not only the skin, but also the meat.”, - the coachman Anton expresses the reason for his dissatisfaction. The peasants are worried about their own well-being, so their rebellion is not yet filled with ideological content. This is not a protest against serfdom, but an attempt to protect oneself from a despot.
The life of the local nobility is vividly and in detail depicted in the novel. Troekurov and Dubrovsky represent two different types of this class. Kirila Petrovich is a large landowner who keeps the entire neighborhood in fear. He feels like a master not only over his serfs, but also over his neighbors. Troekurov despises any person lower on the social ladder. He bosses around provincial officials as if they were his servants, and has two teachers killed. Kirila Petrovich likes to have a lot of people in the house. But the guests serve him more for amusement. Troekurov takes pleasure in humiliating them, making rude and even cruel jokes.
The conceit of this uneducated and spoiled gentleman knows no bounds. He believes that Dubrovsky does not attack his possessions solely out of fear of Troekurov’s power. Absolute impunity, vindictiveness and lust for power overshadow the landowner's rare glimpses of nobility and remorse.
Troekurov's opponent, Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky, is an honest, decisive and noble nobleman, but sometimes he is quick-tempered, envious, and stubborn. Like Troekurov, he is prone to arbitrariness and prefers lynching, and treats the law with disdain. Dubrovsky the elder demands that the huntsman Paramoshka be handed over for punishment, and he himself deals with the Troekurov men who stole the forest from him. Pushkin clearly shows in the novel that even the best representatives of the nobility put their lordly self-will above morality and law.
The conflict of the older generation destroys the destinies of children. Vladimir Dubrovsky turns from a brilliant officer into a homeless outcast. Pushkin presents us with his hero in different roles: a loving son who sincerely worries about the death of his father, a desperate avenger, a brave and cold-blooded French tutor, an ataman of dashing robbers, an ardent lover.
Dubrovsky is a victim of violence and its instrument. Vladimir did not strive to become a robber, to live outside the law. At first he wanted to find justice for Troekurov “at the top.” He did not intend to kill the judges either. It was the blacksmith Arkhip who, with his cruel act, put Dubrovsky in a hopeless situation. Vladimir became a criminal only when the legal way to solve the problem was closed to him.
Love for Masha in Dubrovsky’s noble heart overcomes the feeling of revenge. He forgives Troekurov, because the house where his daughter lives becomes sacred. Involuntary crimes weigh on the soul and conscience of a young man, and all attempts to become noble and honest end in failure.
Love only increases Vladimir's suffering. He understands perfectly well that being the wife of a murderer and robber is a cruel choice. Therefore, Dubrovsky does not invite Masha to run away with him. He is ready to give her freedom from her despot father and hated fiancé when there is no other choice. Vladimir dreams of family happiness with his beloved, but can sacrifice it for the sake of the girl’s peace of mind. He accepts Masha's choice without objection.
Does Masha love Dubrovsky? The young girl rather sees him as a brave hero. She is attracted by the aura of mystery and romance surrounding the name of the young robber, and is flattered by his enthusiastic worship. But is this love? Pushkin’s heroine herself answers the question: “it’s better to die, it’s better to go to a monastery, it’s better to marry Dubrovsky.”
Critics reacted differently to the novel. Some saw many weaknesses in it, others recognized high artistic merits. “This is one of the greatest creations of Pushkin’s genius,” Belinsky wrote about the novel. For a long time, the work was included in the school curriculum and was filmed many times. An opera of the same name was created based on the novel “Dubrovsky”.
Volume one
Chapter I
Several years ago, an old Russian gentleman, Kirila Petrovich Troekurov, lived on one of his estates. His wealth, noble family and connections gave him great weight in the provinces where his estate was located. The neighbors were happy to cater to his slightest whims; provincial officials trembled at his name; Kirila Petrovich accepted signs of servility as a proper tribute; his house was always full of guests, ready to entertain his lordly idleness, sharing his noisy and sometimes violent amusements. No one dared to refuse his invitation or on certain days not to appear with due respect in the village of Pokrovskoye. In his home life, Kirila Petrovich showed all the vices of an uneducated person. Spoiled by everything that surrounded him, he was accustomed to giving full rein to all the impulses of his ardent disposition and all the ideas of his rather limited mind. Despite the extraordinary strength of his physical abilities, he suffered from gluttony twice a week and was tipsy every evening. In one of the wings of his house lived sixteen maids, engaged in handicrafts peculiar to their sex. The windows in the outbuilding were blocked by wooden bars; the doors were locked with locks, the keys to which were kept by Kiril Petrovich. The young hermits went to the garden at the appointed hours and walked under the supervision of two old women. From time to time, Kirila Petrovich married off some of them, and new ones took their place. He treated peasants and servants strictly and capriciously; despite this, they were devoted to him: they were vain of the wealth and glory of their master and, in turn, allowed themselves a lot in relation to their neighbors, hoping for his strong patronage.
Film based on the story by A. S. Pushkin “Dubrovsky”, 1936
Troekurov's usual occupations consisted of traveling around his extensive domains, long feasts and pranks, which were invented every day and the victim of which was usually some new acquaintance; although old friends did not always avoid them, with the exception of one Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky. This Dubrovsky, a retired lieutenant of the guard, was his closest neighbor and owned seventy souls. Troekurov, arrogant in relations with people of the highest rank, respected Dubrovsky, despite his humble state. They had once been comrades in the service, and Troekurov knew from experience the impatience and determination of his character. Circumstances separated them for a long time. Dubrovsky, upset, was forced to resign and settle in the rest of his village. Kirila Petrovich, having learned about this, offered him his patronage, but Dubrovsky thanked him and remained poor and independent. A few years later, Troekurov, a retired general-in-chief, came to his estate; they met and were happy with each other. Since then, they were together every day, and Kirila Petrovich, who had never deigned to visit anyone with his visits, would easily drop by the house of his old friend. Being the same age, born in the same class, raised the same, they were somewhat similar in character and inclinations. In some respects, their fate was the same: both married for love, both were soon widowed, both had a child. Dubrovsky’s son was brought up in St. Petersburg, Kiril Petrovich’s daughter grew up in the eyes of her parent, and Troekurov often said to Dubrovsky: “Listen, brother, Andrei Gavrilovich: if there is a way in your Volodka, then I will give Masha for it; It’s okay that he’s naked as a falcon.” Andrei Gavrilovich shook his head and answered as usual: “No, Kirila Petrovich: my Volodka is not Maria Kirilovna’s fiancé. For a poor nobleman, such as he is, it is better to marry a poor noblewoman and be the head of the house, than to become the clerk of a spoiled woman.”
Everyone envied the harmony that reigned between the arrogant Troekurov and his poor neighbor, and were surprised at the courage of this latter when, at Kiril Petrovich’s table, he directly expressed his opinion, not caring whether it contradicted the opinions of the owner. Some tried to imitate him and go beyond the limits of proper obedience, but Kirila Petrovich frightened them so much that he forever discouraged them from making such attempts, and Dubrovsky alone remained outside the general law. An unexpected incident upset and changed everything.
A. S. Pushkin. "Dubrovsky". Audiobook
Once at the beginning of autumn, Kirila Petrovich was getting ready to go to a field that was leaving. The day before, the order was given to the hounds and hunters to be ready at five o'clock in the morning. The tent and kitchen were sent forward to the place where Kirila Petrovich was supposed to have lunch. The owner and guests went to the kennel yard, where more than five hundred hounds and greyhounds lived in contentment and warmth, glorifying the generosity of Kiril Petrovich in their canine language. There was also an infirmary for sick dogs under the supervision of the staff doctor Timoshka and a department where noble females gave birth and fed their puppies. Kirila Petrovich was proud of this wonderful establishment and never missed an opportunity to brag about it to his guests, each of whom inspected it for at least the twentieth time. He walked around the kennel, surrounded by his guests and accompanied by Timoshka and the main hounds; stopped in front of some kennels, now asking about the health of the sick, now making comments more or less strict and fair, now calling familiar dogs to him and talking affectionately to them. Guests considered it their duty to admire Kiril Petrovich’s kennel. Only Dubrovsky was silent and frowned. He was an ardent hunter. His condition enabled him to keep only two hounds and one pack of greyhounds; he could not help but feel a little envy at the sight of this magnificent establishment. “Why are you frowning, brother,” Kirila Petrovich asked him, “or don’t you like my kennel?” “No,” he answered sternly, “the kennel is wonderful, it’s unlikely that your people will live the same as your dogs.” One of the hounds was offended. “We don’t complain about our life,” he said, “thanks to God and the master, and what’s true is true; it wouldn’t be a bad thing for another nobleman to exchange his estate for any local kennel. He would have been more nourished and warmer.” Kirila Petrovich laughed loudly at his servant’s impudent remark, and the guests followed him with laughter, although they felt that the huntsman’s joke could apply to them as well. Dubrovsky turned pale and did not say a word. At this time, they brought newborn puppies to Kiril Petrovich in a basket; he took care of them, chose two for himself, and ordered the others to be drowned. Meanwhile, Andrei Gavrilovich disappeared, and no one noticed.
Returning with the guests from the kennel yard, Kirila Petrovich sat down to dinner and only then, not seeing Dubrovsky, did he miss him. People answered that Andrei Gavrilovich had gone home. Troekurov ordered to immediately catch up with him and turn him back without fail. From his childhood he never went hunting without Dubrovsky, an experienced and subtle connoisseur of canine virtues and an infallible resolver of all kinds of hunting disputes. The servant, who galloped after him, returned as they were still sitting at the table, and reported to his master that, they say, Andrei Gavrilovich did not listen and did not want to return. Kirila Petrovich, as usual, inflamed by the liqueurs, became angry and sent the same servant a second time to tell Andrei Gavrilovich that if he did not immediately come to spend the night in Pokrovskoye, then he, Troekurov, would quarrel with him forever. The servant galloped off again, Kirila Petrovich, getting up from the table, dismissed the guests and went to bed.
The next day his first question was: is Andrei Gavrilovich here? Instead of an answer, he was given a letter folded into a triangle; Kirila Petrovich ordered his clerk to read it aloud and heard the following:
“My gracious sir,
I don’t intend to go to Pokrovskoye until you send me the huntsman Paramoshka to confess; but it will be my will to punish him or have mercy, but I do not intend to tolerate jokes from your servants, and I will not tolerate them from you either - because I am not a jester, but an old nobleman. - For this reason I remain obedient to your services
Andrey Dubrovsky."
According to modern concepts of etiquette, this letter would have been very indecent, but it angered Kiril Petrovich not with its strange style and location, but only with its essence. “How,” Troekurov thundered, jumping out of bed barefoot, “can I send my people to him to confess, he is free to pardon and punish them! - what is he really up to? does he know who he is contacting? Here I am... He’ll cry with me, he’ll find out what it’s like to go against Troekurov!”
Kirila Petrovich got dressed and went hunting with his usual pomp, but the hunt was unsuccessful. All day they saw only one hare, and that one was poisoned. Lunch in the field under the tent also failed, or at least was not to the taste of Kiril Petrovich, who killed the cook, scolded the guests, and on the way back, with all his desire, deliberately drove through the fields of Dubrovsky.
Several days passed, and the hostility between the two neighbors did not subside. Andrei Gavrilovich did not return to Pokrovskoye, Kirila Petrovich was bored without him, and his annoyance poured out loudly in the most insulting expressions, which, thanks to the zeal of the local nobles, reached Dubrovsky, corrected and supplemented. The new circumstance destroyed the last hope for reconciliation.
Dubrovsky was once touring his small estate; approaching the birch grove, he heard the blows of an ax and a minute later the crack of a fallen tree. He hurried into the grove and ran into the Pokrovsky men, who were calmly stealing the forest from him. Seeing him, they started to run. Dubrovsky and his coachman caught two of them and brought them bound to his yard. Three enemy horses were immediately taken as spoils to the winner. Dubrovsky was extremely angry: before this, Troekurov’s people, famous robbers, had never dared to play pranks within his domain, knowing his friendly relationship with their master. Dubrovsky saw that they were now taking advantage of the gap that had occurred, and decided, contrary to all concepts of the law of war, to teach his captives a lesson with twigs, which they had stocked up in his own grove, and to give the horses to work, assigning them to the master's cattle.
The rumor about this incident reached Kiril Petrovich on the same day. He lost his temper and in the first minute of anger wanted to launch an attack on Kistenevka (that was the name of his neighbor’s village) with all his servants, ruin it to the ground and besiege the landowner himself on his estate. Such feats were not unusual for him. But his thoughts soon took a different direction.
Walking with heavy steps back and forth across the hall, he accidentally looked out the window and saw a troika stopped at the gate; a small man in a leather cap and frieze overcoat got out of the cart and went to the outbuilding to the clerk; Troekurov recognized assessor Shabashkin and ordered to call him. A minute later, Shabashkin was already standing in front of Kiril Petrovich, bowing after bow and reverently awaiting his orders.
“Great, what’s your name,” Troekurov told him, “why did you come?”
“I was going to the city, Your Excellency,” answered Shabashkin, “and went to Ivan Demyanov to find out if there would be any order from Your Excellency.”
“It’s very opportune that I stopped by, what’s your name?” I need you. Drink some vodka and listen.
Such an affectionate reception pleasantly surprised the assessor. He gave up vodka and began to listen to Kiril Petrovich with all possible attention.
“I have a neighbor,” said Troekurov, “a small-time rude man; I want to take his estate - what do you think about that?
– Your Excellency, if there are any documents or...
- You're lying, brother, what kind of documents do you need? There are decrees for that. This is the power to take away property without any right. Wait, though. This estate once belonged to us, was bought from some Spitsyn and then sold to Dubrovsky’s father. Is it possible to find fault with this?
- Wise, Your Excellency; This sale was probably completed legally.
- Think, brother, look carefully.
“If, for example, your Excellency could somehow obtain from your neighbor a record or a deed of sale by virtue of which he owns his estate, then of course...
“I understand, but the problem is that all his papers were burned in a fire.”
- How, Your Excellency, his papers were burned! what's better for you? - in this case, please act according to the laws, and without any doubt you will receive your complete pleasure.
- You think? Well, look. I rely on your diligence, and you can be sure of my gratitude.
Shabashkin bowed almost to the ground, went out, from that very day he began to work on the planned business, and thanks to his agility, exactly two weeks later Dubrovsky received an invitation from the city to immediately deliver proper explanations about his ownership of the village of Kistenevka.
Andrei Gavrilovich, astonished by the unexpected request, wrote back on the same day in a rather rude manner, in which he announced that the village of Kistenevka came to him after the death of his late parent, that he owned it by right of inheritance, that Troekurov had nothing to do with him and that any outside claim to this property of his is a sneak and a fraud.
This letter made a very pleasant impression in the soul of assessor Shabashkin. He saw, 1) that Dubrovsky knew little sense in business, and 2) that it would not be difficult to put a person so ardent and imprudent in the most disadvantageous position.
Andrei Gavrilovich, having calmly examined the assessor’s requests, saw the need to answer in more detail. He wrote a fairly efficient paper, but later it turned out to be insufficient.
The matter began to drag on. Confident in his rightness, Andrei Gavrilovich worried little about him, had neither the desire nor the opportunity to sprinkle money around him, and although he was always the first to mock the corrupt conscience of the ink tribe, the thought of becoming a victim of a sneak did not occur to him. For his part, Troekurov cared just as little about winning the case he had started; Shabashkin worked for him, acting on his behalf, intimidating and bribing judges and interpreting all sorts of decrees at odds and ends. Be that as it may, on the 18th... year, February 9th, Dubrovsky received an invitation through the city police to appear before the ** zemstvo judge to hear his decision in the case of a disputed estate between him, Lieutenant Dubrovsky, and Chief General Troekurov, and to sign his pleasure or displeasure. On the same day, Dubrovsky went to the city; Troekurov overtook him on the road. They looked at each other proudly, and Dubrovsky noticed an evil smile on his opponent’s face.
Chapter II
Arriving in the city, Andrei Gavrilovich stayed with a merchant he knew, spent the night with him, and the next morning appeared before the district court. Nobody paid any attention to him. Kirila Petrovich arrived after him. The clerks stood up and put feathers behind their ears. The members greeted him with expressions of deep servility, pulled out chairs for him out of respect for his rank, age and stature; He sat down with the doors open, Andrei Gavrilovich leaned against the wall while standing, there was deep silence, and the secretary began to read the court ruling in a ringing voice.
We put it completely, believing that everyone will be pleased to see one of the ways in which in Rus' we can lose property, the ownership of which we have an indisputable right to.
18... October 27 days ** the district court considered the case of the improper possession of the guard by Lieutenant Andrei Gavrilov's son Dubrovsky estate, belonging to Chief General Kiril Petrov son Troekurov, consisting ** of the province in the village of Kistenevka, male ** souls, and land with meadows and lands ** tithes. From which case it is clear: the said general-in-chief Troekurov of the past 18... year of June 9 days entered this court with a petition that his late father, collegiate assessor and cavalier Peter Efimov son of Troekurov in 17... year of August 14 days, who served at that time time in ** viceroyal rule as a provincial secretary, bought from the nobles from the clerk Fadey Yegorov's son Spitsyn an estate consisting of ** districts in the aforementioned village of Kistenevka (which village was then called Kistenevsky settlements according to ** revision), all listed according to the 4th revision of the male gender ** souls with all their peasant property, the estate, with arable and uncultivated land, forests, hay fields, fishing along the river called Kistenevka, and with all the land belonging to this estate and the master's wooden house, and in a word everything without a trace, that after his father, from the nobles, the constable Yegor Terentyev's son Spitsyn inherited and was in his possession, not leaving a single soul from the people, and not a single quadrangle from the land, at a price of 2500 rubles, for which the bill of sale was issued on the same day in the ** chamber of the trial and reprisal was committed, and his father was taken into possession on the same August, on the 26th day ** by the zemstvo court and a refusal was carried out for him. - And finally, on the 17th... year of September, the 6th day, his father died by the will of God, and meanwhile he was petitioner General-Chief Troekurov from the 17th... year, almost from an early age, he was in military service and for the most part was on campaigns abroad, which is why he could not have information about the death of his father, nor about the estate left after him. Now, after completely retiring from that service and upon returning to his father’s estates, consisting of ** and ** provinces **, ** and ** districts, in different villages, in total up to 3000 souls, he finds that from among those the estates of the above-mentioned ** souls (of which, according to the current ** audit, there are only ** souls listed in that village), with the land and all the land, is owned without any fortifications by the above-mentioned guard lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky, why, when presenting at this petition that genuine bill of sale given to his father the seller Spitsyn, asks, having taken away the said estate from Dubrovsky’s illegal possession, to give Troekurov’s complete disposal according to its ownership. And for the unjust appropriation from which he enjoyed the income received, after conducting a proper inquiry about it, impose on him, Dubrovsky, the following penalty according to the laws and satisfy him, Troekurov, with it.
After the zemstvo court carried out investigations on this request, it was discovered that the said current owner of the disputed estate of the guard, Lieutenant Dubrovsky, gave an explanation to the noble assessor on the spot that the estate he now owns, consisting of the said village of Kistenevka, ** souls with land and lands, went to he inherited after the death of his father, artillery second lieutenant Gavril Evgrafov's son Dubrovsky, and he inherited from the father of this petitioner, formerly the former provincial secretary, and then the collegiate assessor Troekurov, by power of attorney given from him in the 17th... year of August 30 days, certified in the ** district court, to the titular councilor Grigory Vasilyev's son Sobolev, according to which there should be a deed of sale from him for this estate to his father, because it specifically says that he, Troekurov, received all the estate that he received under the deed from the clerk Spitsyn, * * soul with land, sold to his father, Dubrovsky, and the following money under the agreement, 3200 rubles, received everything in full from his father without return and asked his trusted Sobolev to give his father the designated fortress. Meanwhile, his father, in the same power of attorney, on the occasion of payment of the entire amount, shall own the estate purchased from him and dispose of it from now on until the completion of this fortress, as the real owner, and he, the seller Troekurov, will no longer enter into that estate with anyone. But when exactly and in what public place such a bill of sale was given to his father from Sobolev’s attorney, he, Andrei Dubrovsky, does not know, because at that time he was very young, and after the death of his father he could not find such a fortress, but believes that Didn’t it burn with other papers and property during the fire in their house in 17..., which was known to the residents of that village. And that this estate from the date of sale by Troekurov or the issuance of a power of attorney to Sobolev, that is, from the year 17..., and after the death of his father from the year 17... to this day, they, the Dubrovskys, undoubtedly owned, this is evidenced by the roundabout residents who, in total 52 person, when questioned under oath, they showed that indeed, as they can remember, the said disputed estate began to be owned by the mentioned gentlemen. The Dubrovskys went back about 70 years ago without any dispute from anyone, but they do not know about which act or fortress. - The former buyer of this estate, the former provincial secretary Pyotr Troekurov, mentioned in this case, they will not remember whether he owned this estate. The house of Messrs. About 30 years ago, the Dubrovskys burned down due to a fire that happened in their village at night, and outsiders assumed that the said disputed estate could bring in income, believing from that time on, in complexity, annually no less than 2000 rubles.
On the contrary, General-in-Chief Kiril Petrov, son of Troyekurov, on the 3rd of January of this year, entered this court with a petition that although the aforementioned guard lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky presented during the investigation to this case the power of attorney issued by his late father Gavril Dubrovsky to the titular adviser Sobolev for the sold to him the estate, but according to this, not only the original bill of sale, but even the execution of it ever, did not provide any clear evidence according to the force of the general regulations of Chapter 19 and the decree of 1752 on November 29. Consequently, the power of attorney itself is now, after the death of the giver of it, his father, by decree of May 1818... days, completely destroyed. - And in addition to this, it was ordered that disputed estates be given into possession - serfs according to fortresses, and non-serfs according to search.
For which estate, belonging to his father, a serfdom deed has already been presented from him as proof, according to which it follows, on the basis of the aforesaid legalizations, that the said Dubrovsky has been taken away from the wrongful possession and given to him by right of inheritance. And as the said landowners, having in the possession of an estate that did not belong to them and without any fortification, and used it incorrectly and income that did not belong to them, then, according to the calculation, how many of these will be due according to the force ... to recover from the landowner Dubrovsky and him, Troekurov, to satisfy them . - Upon consideration of the case and the extract made from it and from the laws in the ** district court, it was determined:
It is clear from this case that General-in-Chief Kirila Petrov son Troyekurov on the said disputed estate, now in the possession of the guard of Lieutenant Andrei Gavrilov son Dubrovsky, located in the village of Kistenevka, according to the current... audit of all male ** souls, with land, and lands, presented a genuine bill of sale for the sale of it to his late father, the provincial secretary, who later was a collegiate assessor, in the year 17... from the nobles, clerk Fadey Spitsyn, and that beyond this, this buyer, Troekurov, as can be seen from the inscription on that bill of sale, was in the same year ** by the zemstvo court taken into possession of which the estate had already been refused for him, and although on the contrary, from the side of the guard, Lieutenant Andrei Dubrovsky was presented with a power of attorney given by that deceased buyer Troekurov to the titular councilor Sobolev for the execution of a deed of sale in the name of his father , Dubrovsky, but in such transactions not only to approve serf immovable estates, but even to temporarily own by decree.... is prohibited, and the power of attorney itself is completely destroyed by the death of the giver. But in order for, in addition to this, a deed of sale was actually executed under this power of attorney where and when for the said disputed estate, Dubrovsky has not presented any clear evidence to the case since the beginning of the proceedings, that is, from 18..., and to this day. And therefore this court decides: to approve the said estate, ** souls, with land and lands, in whatever position it now finds itself, according to the bill of sale presented for it for Chief General Troekurov; about the removal from the order of the guard of Lieutenant Dubrovsky and about the proper entry into possession for him, Mr. Troekurov, and about the refusal for him, as he inherited it, to order ** the zemstvo court. And although, in addition to this, Chief General Troekurov asks for the recovery of Lieutenant Dubrovsky from the guard for the illegal possession of his hereditary estate for those who took advantage of the income from it. - But what kind of estate, according to the testimony of old-timers, did the Messrs. The Dubrovskys have been in undisputed possession for several years, and from this case it is not clear that on the part of Mr. Troekurov there have been any petitions until now regarding such improper possession by the Dubrovskys of this estate, according to the code it is ordered that if anyone sows someone else’s land or blocks the estate , and they will beat him up about the wrong possession, and this will be found out straight out, then the one who has the right to give that land with the sown grain, and the town, and the building, and therefore General-Chief Troyekurov will refuse the claim brought against the guard of Lieutenant Dubrovsky, because it belongs to the estate is returned to him into his possession, without taking anything from it. And that when entering for him, he can refuse everything without a trace, while providing General-in-Chief Troekurov, if he has any clear and legal evidence about such a claim, he can ask where it should be specifically. - What decision should be announced in advance to both the plaintiff and the defendant, on a legal basis, by appeal, and summon them to this court to hear this decision and sign pleasure or displeasure through the police.
Which decision was signed by all those present in that court. –
The secretary fell silent, the assessor stood up and with a low bow turned to Troekurov, inviting him to sign the proposed paper, and the triumphant Troekurov, taking the pen from him, signed the court decision with his complete pleasure.
The line was behind Dubrovsky. The secretary brought him the paper. But Dubrovsky became motionless, lowering his head.
The secretary repeated his invitation to him to sign his complete and complete pleasure or obvious displeasure, if, more than aspirations, he feels in his conscience that his cause is right, and intends to appeal to the appropriate place at the time prescribed by the laws. Dubrovsky was silent... Suddenly he raised his head, his eyes sparkled, he stamped his foot, pushed the secretary with such force that he fell, and, grabbing an inkwell, threw it at the assessor. Everyone was horrified. "How! do not honor the church of God! away, you boorish tribe!” Then, turning to Kiril Petrovich: “We’ve heard of it, your Excellency,” he continued, “hunters are bringing dogs into God’s church! dogs are running around the church. I’ll teach you a lesson already...” The watchmen came running at the noise and forcibly took possession of him. They took him out and put him in a sleigh. Troekurov followed him out, accompanied by the entire court. Dubrovsky's sudden madness had a strong effect on his imagination and poisoned his triumph.
The judges, who hoped for his gratitude, did not receive a single friendly word from him. On the same day he went to Pokrovskoye. Meanwhile, Dubrovsky was lying in bed; The district doctor, fortunately not a complete ignoramus, managed to bleed him and apply leeches and Spanish flies. By evening he felt better, the patient came to his senses. The next day they took him to Kistenevka, which almost no longer belonged to him.
Chapter III
Some time passed, and poor Dubrovsky’s health was still poor; True, the attacks of madness did not recur, but his strength noticeably weakened. He forgot his previous studies, rarely left his room and thought for whole days. Egorovna, the kind old woman who once looked after his son, now became his nanny. She looked after him like a child, reminded him of the time of food and sleep, fed him, put him to bed. Andrei Gavrilovich quietly obeyed her and had no relations with anyone other than her. He was unable to think about his affairs, economic orders, and Egorovna saw the need to notify young Dubrovsky, who served in one of the guards infantry regiments and was at that time in St. Petersburg, about everything. So, tearing off a sheet from the account book, she dictated a letter to the cook Khariton, the only Kistenev literate person, which she sent to the city post office that same day.
But it’s time to introduce the reader to the real hero of our story.
Vladimir Dubrovsky was brought up in the Cadet Corps and was released as a cornet into the guard; his father spared nothing for his decent maintenance, and the young man received more from home than he should have expected. Being wasteful and ambitious, he allowed himself luxurious whims, played cards and went into debt, not caring about the future and envisioning sooner or later a rich bride, the dream of his poor youth.
One evening, when several officers were sitting with him, lounging on sofas and smoking from his ambers, Grisha, his valet, handed him a letter, whose inscription and seal immediately struck the young man. He quickly opened it and read the following:
“You are our sovereign, Vladimir Andreevich, - I, your old nanny, decided to report to you about papa’s health. He is very bad, sometimes he talks, and sits all day like a stupid child, but in the stomach and in death God is free. Come to us, my bright falcon, we will send you horses to Pesochnoe. I hear that the zemstvo court is coming to us to hand us over to Kiril Petrovich Troekurov, because, they say, we are theirs, and we have been yours from time immemorial, and we have never heard of that. “You could, living in St. Petersburg, report this to the Tsar-Father, and he would not give us offense.” – I remain your faithful slave, nanny
Orina Egorovna Buzyreva.
I send my maternal blessing to Grisha, is he serving you well? “It’s been raining here for about a week now, and the shepherd Rodya died around Mikolin.”
Vladimir Dubrovsky re-read these rather stupid lines several times in a row with extraordinary excitement. He lost his mother from an early age and, almost not knowing his father, was brought to St. Petersburg in the eighth year of his age; with all that, he was romantically attached to him and loved family life the more, the less he had time to enjoy its quiet joys.
The thought of losing his father painfully tormented his heart, and the situation of the poor patient, which he guessed from his nanny’s letter, terrified him. He imagined his father abandoned in a remote village, in the hands of a stupid old woman and servants, threatened by some kind of disaster and dying without help in physical and mental torment. Vladimir reproached himself for criminal negligence. For a long time he did not receive letters from his father and did not think to inquire about him, believing him to be traveling or doing household chores.
He decided to go to him and even resign if his father’s painful condition required his presence. His comrades, noticing his concern, left. Vladimir, left alone, wrote a request for leave, lit a pipe and plunged into deep thoughts.
That same day he began to bother about a vacation and three days later he was already on the high road.
Vladimir Andreevich was approaching the station from which he was supposed to turn onto Kistenevka. His heart was filled with sad forebodings, he was afraid of not finding his father alive, he imagined the sad way of life awaiting him in the village, wilderness, desolation, poverty and troubles with business in which he knew no sense. Arriving at the station, he went to the caretaker and asked for free horses. The caretaker inquired where he needed to go and announced that the horses sent from Kistenevka had been waiting for him for the fourth day. Soon the old coachman Anton, who once drove him around the stable and looked after his little horse, came to Vladimir Andreevich. Anton shed tears when he saw him, bowed to the ground, told him that his old master was still alive, and ran to harness the horses. Vladimir Andreevich refused the offered breakfast and was in a hurry to leave. Anton took him along country roads, and a conversation began between them.
- Tell me, please, Anton, what business does my father have with Troyekurov?
- But God knows, Father Vladimir Andreevich... The master, listen, did not get along with Kiril Petrovich, and he filed a lawsuit, although he is often his own judge. It’s not our serf’s business to sort out the master’s wills, but by God, your father went against Kiril Petrovich in vain, you can’t break a butt with a whip.
- So, apparently, this Kirila Petrovich does what he wants with you?
- And of course, master: listen, he doesn’t give a damn about the assessor, the police officer is on his errands. The gentlemen come to pay homage to him, and to say that it would be a trough, but there will be pigs.
– Is it true that he is taking our property away from us?
- Oh, master, we heard so too. The other day, the Pokrovsk sexton said at the christening of our elder: you have enough time to walk; Now Kirila Petrovich will take you into his hands. Mikita the blacksmith said to him: that’s it, Savelich, don’t be sad for your godfather, don’t bother the guests. Kirila Petrovich is on his own, and Andrei Gavrilovich is on his own, and we are all God’s and sovereign’s; But you can’t sew buttons on someone else’s mouth.
- So, you don’t want to go into Troekurov’s possession?
- In possession of Kiril Petrovich! God forbid and deliver: he sometimes has a bad time with his own people, but if he gets strangers, he will tear off not only the skin, but also the meat from them. No, may God grant Andrei Gavrilovich a long life, and if God takes him away, we don’t need anyone but you, our breadwinner. Don’t give us away, and we will stand for you. - At these words, Anton waved his whip, shook the reins, and his horses began to run at a fast trot.
Touched by the devotion of the old coachman, Dubrovsky fell silent and again indulged in reflection. More than an hour passed, suddenly Grisha woke him up with the exclamation: “Here is Pokrovskoe!” Dubrovsky raised his head. He rode along the shore of a wide lake, from which a river flowed and meandered between the hills in the distance; on one of them, above the dense greenery of the grove, towered the green roof and belvedere of a huge stone house, on the other, a five-domed church and an ancient bell tower; Scattered around were village huts with their vegetable gardens and wells. Dubrovsky recognized these places; he remembered that on this very hill he was playing with little Masha Troekurova, who was two years younger than him and then already promised to be a beauty. He wanted to ask Anton about her, but some shyness held him back.
Arriving at the manor's house, he saw a white dress flashing between the trees of the garden. At this time, Anton hit the horses and, obeying ambition, common to both village coachmen and cab drivers, he set off at full speed across the bridge and past the village. Having left the village, they climbed the mountain, and Vladimir saw a birch grove and to the left, in an open place, a gray house with a red roof; his heart began to beat; in front of him he saw Kistenevka and his father’s poor house.
Ten minutes later he drove into the master's courtyard. He looked around him with indescribable excitement. For twelve years he did not see his homeland. The birches that had just been planted near the fence during his time had grown and now became tall, branchy trees. The yard, once decorated with three regular flower beds, between which there was a wide road, carefully swept, turned into an unmown meadow on which a tangled horse was grazing. The dogs started to bark, but when they recognized Anton, they fell silent and waved their shaggy tails. The servants poured out of the people's faces and surrounded the young master with noisy expressions of joy. It was all he could do to force his way through their zealous crowd and ran up onto the dilapidated porch; Egorovna met him in the hallway and hugged her pupil with tears. “Great, great, nanny,” he repeated, pressing the kind old woman to his heart, “what’s up, father, where is he? what is he like?
At that moment, a tall old man, pale and thin, in a robe and cap, entered the hall, moving his legs with force.
- Hello, Volodka! - he said in a weak voice, and Vladimir passionately hugged his father. The joy produced too strong a shock in the patient, he weakened, his legs gave way under him, and he would have fallen if his son had not supported him.
“Why did you get out of bed,” Yegorovna told him, “you can’t stand on your feet, but you strive to go where people go.”
The old man was carried into the bedroom. He tried to talk to him, but his thoughts were confused in his head, and the words had no connection. He fell silent and fell into a sleepy state. Vladimir was amazed at his condition. He settled down in his bedroom and asked to be left alone with his father. The household obeyed, and then everyone turned to Grisha and took him to the people's room, where they treated him like a villager, with all possible cordiality, tormenting him with questions and greetings.
Chapter IV
Where there was a table of food, there is a coffin.
A few days after his arrival, young Dubrovsky wanted to get down to business, but his father was not able to give him the necessary explanations; Andrei Gavrilovich did not have an attorney. While sorting through his papers, he found only the assessor's first letter and a draft response to it; From this he could not get a clear understanding of the litigation and decided to wait for the consequences, hoping for the justice of the case itself.
Meanwhile, Andrei Gavrilovich’s health was getting worse hour by hour. Vladimir foresaw its imminent destruction and did not leave the old man, who had fallen into complete childhood.
Meanwhile, the deadline had passed and the appeal was not filed. Kistenevka belonged to Troekurov. Shabashkin came to him with bows and congratulations and a request to appoint when it would please His Excellency to take possession of the newly acquired estate - himself or to whomever he deigns to give power of attorney for this. Kirila Petrovich was embarrassed. He was not self-seeking by nature, the desire for revenge led him too far, his conscience grumbled. He knew the condition of his opponent, the old comrade of his youth, and victory did not bring joy to his heart. He looked menacingly at Shabashkin, looking for something to get attached to in order to scold him, but not finding a sufficient pretext for this, he said to him angrily: “Get out, it’s not your time.”
Shabashkin, seeing that he was not in a good mood, bowed and hurried away. And Kirila Petrovich, left alone, began to pace back and forth, whistling: “Roll the thunder of victory,” which always meant an extraordinary excitement of thoughts in him.
Finally, he ordered the racing droshky to be harnessed, dressed warmly (this was already at the end of September) and, driving himself, drove out of the yard.
Soon he saw Andrei Gavrilovich’s house, and opposite feelings filled his soul. Satisfied vengeance and lust for power drowned out to some extent nobler feelings, but the latter finally triumphed. He decided to make peace with his old neighbor, to destroy the traces of the quarrel, returning his property to him. Having relieved his soul with this good intention, Kirila Petrovich set off at a trot to his neighbor’s estate and rode straight into the yard.
At this time, the patient was sitting in the bedroom by the window. He recognized Kiril Petrovich, and terrible confusion appeared on his face: a crimson blush took the place of his usual pallor, his eyes sparkled, he uttered indistinct sounds. His son, who was sitting right there behind the business books, raised his head and was amazed at his condition. The patient pointed his finger towards the yard with an air of horror and anger. He hurriedly picked up the hem of his robe, about to get up from his chair, he stood up... and suddenly fell. The son rushed to him, the old man lay unconscious and without breathing, paralysis struck him. “Hurry, hurry to the city for a doctor!” - Vladimir shouted. “Kirila Petrovich is asking for you,” said the servant who entered. Vladimir gave him a terrible look.
- Tell Kiril Petrovich to get out quickly before I order him to be kicked out of the yard... let's go! – The servant joyfully ran to fulfill his master’s orders; Egorovna clasped her hands. “You are our father,” she said in a squeaky voice, “you will ruin your little head!” Kirila Petrovich will eat us.” “Be quiet, nanny,” Vladimir said with his heart, “now send Anton to the city for a doctor.” - Egorovna came out.
There was no one in the hallway; all the people ran out into the courtyard to look at Kiril Petrovich. She went out onto the porch and heard the servant answer, reporting on behalf of the young master. Kirila Petrovich listened to him while sitting on the droshky. His face became gloomier than the night, he smiled with contempt, looked menacingly at the servants and walked at a pace near the yard. He looked out the window, where Andrei Gavrilovich had been sitting a minute before, but where he was no longer there. The nanny stood on the porch, having forgotten about the master’s orders. The servants talked noisily about this incident. Suddenly Vladimir appeared among the people and said abruptly: “There is no need for a doctor, the priest has died.”
There was confusion. People rushed to the old master's room. He lay in the chairs to which Vladimir had carried him; his right arm hung to the floor, his head was lowered on his chest, there was no sign of life in this body, which had not yet cooled down, but was already disfigured by death. Egorovna howled, the servants surrounded the corpse left in their care, washed it, dressed it in a uniform sewn back in 1797, and laid it on the very table at which they had served their master for so many years.
Chapter V
The funeral took place on the third day. The body of the poor old man lay on the table, covered with a shroud and surrounded by candles. The dining room was full of courtyard servants. We were getting ready to take it out. Vladimir and three servants lifted the coffin. The priest went forward, the sexton accompanied him, chanting funeral prayers. The owner of Kistenevka crossed the threshold of his house for the last time. The coffin was carried by the grove. The church was behind it. The day was clear and cold. Autumn leaves fell from the trees.
When leaving the grove, we saw the Kistenevsky wooden church and a cemetery shaded by old linden trees. The body of Vladimir’s mother rested there; there, near her grave, a fresh hole had been dug the day before.
The church was full of Kistenevsky peasants who had come to pay their last respects to their master. Young Dubrovsky stood at the choir; he did not cry or pray, but his face was scary. The sad ritual is over. Vladimir was the first to go to say goodbye to the body, followed by all the servants. They brought the lid and nailed the coffin shut. The women howled loudly; the men occasionally wiped away tears with their fists. Vladimir and the same three servants carried him to the cemetery, accompanied by the entire village. The coffin was lowered into the grave, everyone present threw a handful of sand into it, filled the hole, bowed to it and dispersed. Vladimir hastily left, got ahead of everyone and disappeared into the Kistenevskaya Grove.
Egorovna, on his behalf, invited the priest and the entire church clergy to a funeral dinner, declaring that the young master did not intend to attend it, and thus Father Anton, the priest Fedotovna and the sexton went on foot to the master's courtyard, discussing with Egorovna about the virtues of the deceased and that , which apparently awaited his heir. (Troekurov’s arrival and the reception he received were already known to the entire neighborhood, and the politicians there foreshadowed important consequences for it).
“What will be will be,” said the priest, “but it’s a pity if Vladimir Andreevich is not our master.” Well done, nothing to say.
“And who else but him should be our master,” Egorovna interrupted. “It’s in vain that Kirila Petrovich gets excited. He did not attack the timid: my falcon will stand up for itself, and, God willing, its benefactors will not abandon it. Kirila Petrovich is painfully arrogant! and I suppose he put his tail between his legs when my Grishka shouted to him: “Get out, old dog!” - out of the yard!
“Ahti, Egorovna,” said the sexton, “how Grigory’s tongue turned; I would rather agree, it seems, to bark at the Bishop than to look askance at Kiril Petrovich. When you see him, fear and trembling, and sweat dripping, and your back itself just bends and bends...
“Vanity of vanities,” said the priest, “and they will sing eternal memory to Kiril Petrovich, just like now for Andrei Gavrilovich, perhaps the funeral will be richer and more guests will be called, but who cares to God!”
- Oh, dad! and we wanted to invite the entire neighborhood, but Vladimir Andreevich did not want to. We probably have enough of everything, we have something to treat, but what do you want to do? At least if there are no people, then at least I will treat you, our dear guests.
This affectionate promise and the hope of finding a tasty pie quickened the steps of the interlocutors, and they safely arrived at the manor’s house, where the table was already set and vodka was served.
Meanwhile, Vladimir went deeper into the thicket of trees, trying to drown out his spiritual grief with movement and fatigue. He walked without making out the road; branches constantly touched and scratched him, his feet constantly got stuck in the swamp - he did not notice anything. Finally he reached a small hollow, surrounded on all sides by forest; the stream meandered silently near the trees, half naked in autumn. Vladimir stopped, sat down on the cold turf, and thoughts, one darker than the other, crowded his soul... He felt his loneliness strongly. The future for him was covered with menacing clouds. Enmity with Troekurov foreshadowed new misfortunes for him. His poor property could pass away from him into the wrong hands; in that case, poverty awaited him. For a long time he sat motionless in the same place, looking at the quiet flow of the stream, carrying away a few faded leaves and vividly presenting to him the true likeness of life - a likeness so ordinary. Finally he noticed that it was beginning to get dark; he got up and went to look for the way home, but wandered for a long time through the unfamiliar forest until he found himself on a path that led him straight to the gates of his house.
A priest came across Dubrovsky with all the accolades. The thought of an unlucky omen occurred to him. He involuntarily walked away and disappeared behind a tree. They did not notice him and spoke heatedly to each other as they passed him.
“Get away from evil and do good,” said the priest, “there is no point in us staying here.” It's not your problem, no matter how it ends. – Popadya answered something, but Vladimir could not hear her.
As he approached, he saw a multitude of people; peasants and serfs crowded into the manor's courtyard. From a distance, Vladimir heard an extraordinary noise and conversation. There were two triples standing by the barn. On the porch, several strangers in uniform frock coats seemed to be discussing something.
- What does it mean? – he asked Anton angrily, who was running towards him. – Who are they and what do they need?
“Ah, Father Vladimir Andreevich,” answered the old man, gasping for breath. - The court has arrived. They are handing us over to Troekurov, taking us away from your mercy!..
Vladimir lowered his head, his people surrounded their unfortunate master. “You are our father,” they shouted, kissing his hands, “we don’t want another master but you, order, sir, we will deal with the trial. We’ll die rather than hand him over.” Vladimir looked at them, and strange feelings worried him. “Stand still,” he told them, “and I’ll talk to the commander.” “Talk, father,” they shouted to him from the crowd, “for the conscience of the damned.”
Vladimir approached the officials. Shabashkin, with a cap on his head, stood with his arms akimbo and proudly looked around him. The police officer, a tall and fat man of about fifty with a red face and a mustache, seeing Dubrovsky approaching, grunted and said in a hoarse voice: “So, I repeat to you what I have already said: according to the decision of the district court, from now on you belong to Kiril Petrovich Troekurov, whose face Mr. Shabashkin represents here. Obey him in everything he orders, and you women love and honor him, and he is a great hunter of you.” At this sharp joke the police officer burst into laughter, and Shabashkin and the other members followed him. Vladimir was seething with indignation. “Let me find out what this means,” he asked the cheerful police officer with feigned cold-bloodedness. “And this means,” answered the intricate official, “that we have come to bring this Kiril Petrovich Troekurov into possession and ask the others to get out as quickly as possible.” - “But you could, it seems, treat me before my peasants, and announce the landowner’s abdication from power...” “Who are you,” said Shabashkin with a bold look. “The former landowner Andrei Gavrilov, son of Dubrovsky, will die by the will of God, we don’t know you, and we don’t want to know you.”
“Vladimir Andreevich is our young master,” said a voice from the crowd.
“Who dared to open his mouth there,” said the police officer menacingly, “what gentleman, what Vladimir Andreevich?” your master Kirila Petrovich Troekurov, do you hear, you idiots.
- Yes, this is a riot! - the police officer shouted. - Hey, headman, here!
The headman stepped forward.
- Find out this very hour who dared to talk to me, I him!
The headman addressed the crowd, asking who spoke? but everyone was silent; Soon a murmur arose in the back rows, began to intensify and in one minute turned into the most terrible screams. The police officer lowered his voice and wanted to persuade them. “Why look at him,” the courtyard servants shouted, “guys! Down with them! - and the whole crowd moved. Shabashkin and the other members hastily rushed into the hallway and locked the door behind them.
“Guys, knit!” - the same voice shouted, - and the crowd began to press... “Stop,” Dubrovsky shouted. - Fools! what are you? you are ruining both yourself and me. Go through the yards and leave me alone. Do not be afraid, sir, I will ask him. He won't hurt us. We are all his children. How will he stand up for you if you start rebelling and robbing?”
The speech of young Dubrovsky, his sonorous voice and majestic appearance produced the desired effect. The people calmed down, dispersed, the yard was empty. The members sat in the entryway. Finally, Shabashkin quietly unlocked the doors, went out onto the porch and, with humiliated bows, began to thank Dubrovsky for his gracious intercession. Vladimir listened to him with contempt and did not answer. “We decided,” continued the assessor, “with your permission to stay here overnight; otherwise it’s dark, and your men might attack us on the road. Do this kindness: order some hay to be laid out for us in the living room; than light, we will go home.”
“Do what you want,” Dubrovsky answered them dryly, “I’m no longer the boss here.” - With this word, he retired to his father’s room and locked the door behind him.
Chapter VI
“So, it’s all over,” he said to himself; – in the morning I had a corner and a piece of bread. Tomorrow I will have to leave the house where I was born and where my father died, to the culprit of his death and my poverty.” And his eyes fixed motionless on the portrait of his mother. The painter presented her leaning on the railing, in a white morning dress with a scarlet rose in her hair. “And this portrait will go to the enemy of my family,” thought Vladimir, “it will be thrown into the pantry along with the broken chairs or hung in the hallway, the subject of ridicule and comments from his hounds, and his steward will live in her bedroom, in the room where her father died.” or his harem will fit. No! No! Let him not get the sad house from which he drives me out.” Vladimir clenched his teeth, terrible thoughts were born in his mind. The voices of the clerks reached him, they bossed him around, demanded this and that, and unpleasantly entertained him in the midst of his sad thoughts. Finally everything calmed down.
Vladimir opened the chests of drawers and began sorting through the deceased’s papers. They mostly consisted of business accounts and correspondence on various matters. Vladimir tore them up without reading them. Between them he came across a package with the inscription: letters from my wife. With a strong movement of feeling, Vladimir began to work on them: they were written during the Turkish campaign and were addressed to the army from Kistenevka. She described to him her deserted life, her household chores, tenderly lamented the separation and called him home, into the arms of a good friend; in one of them she expressed to him her concern about the health of little Vladimir; in another she rejoiced at his early abilities and foresaw a happy and brilliant future for him. Vladimir read and forgot everything in the world, plunging his soul into the world of family happiness, and did not notice how time passed. The wall clock struck eleven. Vladimir put the letters in his pocket, took the candle and left the office. In the hall, the clerks slept on the floor. There were glasses on the table, emptied by them, and a strong spirit of rum could be heard throughout the room. Vladimir walked past them into the hallway with disgust. - The doors were locked. Not finding the key, Vladimir returned to the hall - the key lay on the table, Vladimir opened the door and came across a man pressed into the corner; his ax shone, and, turning to him with a candle, Vladimir recognized Arkhip the blacksmith. "Why are you here?" - he asked. “Oh, Vladimir Andreevich, it’s you,” Arkhip answered in a whisper, “God have mercy and save me!” It’s good that you walked with a candle!” Vladimir looked at him in amazement. “Why are you hiding here?” - he asked the blacksmith.
“I wanted... I came... to see if everyone was at home,” Arkhip answered quietly, stuttering.
- Why do you have an ax with you?
- Why the ax? But how can you walk without an axe? These clerks are such mischievous people, just look at it...
“You’re drunk, drop the ax and go get some sleep.”
- I'm drunk? Father Vladimir Andreevich, God knows, there wasn’t a single drop in my mouth... and will the wine go to my mind, has the matter been heard, the clerks are planning to take over us, the clerks are driving our masters out of the master’s courtyard... Oh, they snore, damned ones; all at once, and it would end up in the water.
Dubrovsky frowned. “Listen, Arkhip,” he said, after a short silence, “this is not the case you started. The clerks are not to blame. Light the lantern and follow me.”
Arkhip took the candle from the master’s hands, found a lantern behind the stove, lit it, and both quietly left the porch and walked near the yard. The watchman began to beat on the cast-iron board, the dogs began to bark. "Who's the guard?" – Dubrovsky asked. “We, father,” answered a thin voice, “Vasilisa and Lukerya.” “Go around the courtyards,” Dubrovsky told them, “you are not needed.” “Sabbath,” said Arkhip. “Thank you, breadwinner,” the women answered and immediately went home.
Dubrovsky went further. Two people approached him; they called out to him. Dubrovsky recognized the voice of Anton and Grisha. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” - he asked them. “Do we have time to sleep,” Anton answered. “What have we come to, who would have thought...”
- Quiet! - interrupted Dubrovsky, - where is Egorovna?
“In the manor’s house, in his little room,” answered Grisha.
“Go, bring her here and take all our people out of the house, so that not a single soul remains in it except the clerks, and you, Anton, harness the cart.”
Grisha left and a minute later appeared with his mother. The old woman did not undress that night; except for the clerks, no one in the house slept a wink.
– Is everyone here? - asked Dubrovsky, - is there anyone left in the house?
“No one except the clerks,” answered Grisha.
“Give me some hay or straw here,” said Dubrovsky.
The people ran to the stable and returned carrying armfuls of hay.
– Place it under the porch. Like this. Well, guys, fire!
Arkhip opened the lantern, Dubrovsky lit a torch.
“Wait,” he said to Arkhip, “it seems that I locked the doors to the hallway in a hurry, go and unlock them quickly.”
Arkhip ran into the hallway - the doors were unlocked. Arkhip locked them, saying in a low voice: How wrong, unlock it! and returned to Dubrovsky.
Dubrovsky brought the torch closer, the hay caught fire, the flame soared and illuminated the entire yard.
“Ahti,” Yegorovna cried pitifully, “Vladimir Andreevich, what are you doing!”
“Be silent,” said Dubrovsky. - Well, children, goodbye, I’m going wherever God leads; be happy with your new master.
“Our father, breadwinner,” the people answered, “we will die, we will not leave you, we will go with you.”
The horses were brought in; Dubrovsky got into the cart with Grisha and appointed Kistenevskaya Grove as their meeting place. Anton hit the horses, and they rode out of the yard.
The wind got stronger. In one minute the flames engulfed the entire house. Red smoke curled over the roof. Glass cracked and fell, flaming logs began to fall, a plaintive cry and cries were heard: “We’re burning, help, help.” “How wrong,” said Arkhip, looking at the fire with an evil smile. “Arkhipushka,” Yegorovna told him, “save them, the damned, God will reward you.”
“Why not,” answered the blacksmith.
At that moment the clerks appeared at the windows, trying to break down the double frames. But then the roof collapsed with a crash, and the screams died down.
Soon all the servants poured out into the yard. Women screamed and hurried to save their junk; children jumped, admiring the fire. Sparks flew like a fiery blizzard, the huts caught fire.
“Everything’s okay now,” said Arkhip, “how’s it burning, huh?” tea, it’s nice to watch from Pokrovsky.
At that moment a new phenomenon attracted his attention; the cat ran along the roof of the burning barn, wondering where to jump; Flames surrounded her on all sides. The poor animal called for help with a pitiful meow. The boys died laughing, looking at her despair. “Why are you laughing, you devils,” the blacksmith told them angrily. “You are not afraid of God: God’s creation is perishing, and you are foolishly rejoicing,” and, placing the ladder on the fire roof, he climbed after the cat. She understood his intention and, with an air of hasty gratitude, clung to his sleeve. The half-burnt blacksmith climbed down with his loot. “Well, guys, goodbye,” he said to the embarrassed servants, “I have nothing to do here. Have fun, don’t remember me ill.”
The blacksmith left; The fire raged for some time. Finally it calmed down, and piles of coals without flames burned brightly in the darkness of the night, and the burnt residents of Kistenevka wandered around them.
Chapter VII
The next day, news of the fire spread throughout the area. Everyone talked about him with various guesses and assumptions. Some assured that Dubrovsky's people, having gotten drunk at the funeral, set the house on fire out of carelessness, others blamed the clerks for playing tricks at the housewarming party, many assured that he himself burned down with the zemstvo court and all the servants. Some guessed the truth and argued that the culprit of this terrible disaster was Dubrovsky himself, driven by anger and despair. Troekurov came the next day to the scene of the fire and carried out the investigation himself. It turned out that the police officer, the assessor of the zemstvo court, the solicitor and the clerk, as well as Vladimir Dubrovsky, the nanny Egorovna, the yard man Grigory, the coachman Anton and the blacksmith Arkhip, disappeared to an unknown location. All the servants testified that the clerks burned down when the roof fell; their charred bones were discovered. The women Vasilisa and Lukerya said that they saw Dubrovsky and Arkhip the blacksmith a few minutes before the fire. The blacksmith Arkhip, according to everyone, was alive and probably the main, if not the only, culprit of the fire. Dubrovsky was under strong suspicion. Kirila Petrovich sent the governor a detailed description of the entire incident, and a new case began.
Soon other news gave other food for curiosity and gossip. Robbers appeared in ** and spread terror throughout the surrounding area. The measures taken against them by the government were insufficient. Robberies, one more remarkable than the other, followed one after another. There was no safety either on the roads or in the villages. Several troikas filled with robbers traveled throughout the province during the day, stopped travelers and mail, came to villages, robbed the landowners' houses and set them on fire. The leader of the gang was famous for his intelligence, courage and some kind of generosity. Miracles were told about him; Dubrovsky's name was on everyone's lips, everyone was sure that he, and no one else, led the brave villains. They were surprised at one thing - Troekurov’s estates were spared; the robbers did not rob a single barn from him, did not stop a single cart. With his usual arrogance, Troekurov attributed this exception to the fear that he knew how to instill in the entire province, as well as the excellent police force he had established in his villages. At first, the neighbors laughed among themselves at Troekurov’s arrogance and every day expected uninvited guests to visit Pokrovskoye, where they had something to profit from, but, finally, they were forced to agree with him and admit that the robbers showed him an incomprehensible respect... Troekurov triumphed at every news of Dubrovsky's new robbery burst into ridicule about the governor, police officers and company commanders, from whom Dubrovsky always escaped unharmed.
Meanwhile, October 1st arrived - the day of the temple holiday in the village of Troekurova. But before we begin to describe this celebration and further incidents, we must introduce the reader to faces new to him or whom we slightly mentioned at the beginning of our story.
Chapter VIII
The reader has probably already guessed that the daughter of Kiril Petrovich, about whom we have said only a few more words, is the heroine of our story. At the time we are describing, she was seventeen years old, and her beauty was in full bloom. Her father loved her madly, but treated her with his characteristic waywardness, sometimes trying to please her slightest whims, sometimes frightening her with harsh and sometimes cruel treatment. Confident of her affection, he could never gain her trust. She got used to hiding her feelings and thoughts from him, because she could never know for sure how they would be received. She had no friends and grew up in solitude. The wives and daughters of neighbors rarely went to Kiril Petrovich, whose ordinary conversations and entertainment required the companionship of men, and not the presence of ladies. Rarely did our beauty appear among the guests feasting at Kiril Petrovich's. A huge library, composed mostly of the works of French writers of the 18th century, was placed at her disposal. Her father, who had never read anything other than The Perfect Cook, could not guide her in choosing books, and Masha, naturally, taking a break from writing any kind of writing, settled on novels. In this way she completed her upbringing, which had once begun under the guidance of Mamzel Mimi, to whom Kirila Petrovich showed great confidence and favor and whom he was finally forced to quietly send to another estate when the consequences of this friendship turned out to be too obvious. Mamzelle Mimi left behind a rather pleasant memory. She was a kind girl and never used the influence that she apparently had over Kiril Petrovich for evil, in which she differed from other confidantes who were constantly replaced by him. Kirila Petrovich himself seemed to love her more than others, and a black-eyed boy, a naughty boy of about nine years old, reminiscent of the midday features of Mlle Mimi, was brought up with him and was recognized as his son, despite the fact that many barefoot children were like two peas in a pod on Kiril Petrovich, ran in front of his windows and were considered servants. Kirila Petrovich sent a French teacher from Moscow for his little Sasha, who arrived in Pokrovskoye during the incidents we are now describing.
Kiril Petrovich liked this teacher with his pleasant appearance and simple manner. He presented Kiril Petrovich with his certificates and a letter from one of Troekurov’s relatives, with whom he lived as a tutor for four years. Kirila Petrovich reviewed all this and was dissatisfied with the youth of his Frenchman - not because he would consider this amiable shortcoming incompatible with the patience and experience so necessary in the unfortunate title of teacher, but he had his own doubts, which he immediately decided to explain to him. For this purpose, he ordered Masha to be called to him (Kirila Petrovich did not speak French, and she served as his translator).
- Come here, Masha: tell this monsieur that so be it, I accept him; only so that he doesn’t dare to trail after my girls, otherwise I’ll be his son of a dog... translate this to him, Masha.
Masha blushed and, turning to the teacher, told him in French that her father hoped for his modesty and decent behavior.
The Frenchman bowed to her and replied that he hoped to earn respect, even if they denied him favor.
Masha translated his answer word for word.
“Okay, okay,” said Kirila Petrovich, “he doesn’t need any favor or respect.” His job is to follow Sasha and teach him grammar and geography, translate it to him.
Marya Kirilovna softened her father's rude expressions in her translation, and Kirila Petrovich sent his Frenchman to the outbuilding where he was assigned a room.
Masha did not pay any attention to the young Frenchman, brought up in aristocratic prejudices; the teacher was for her a kind of servant or artisan, and the servant or artisan did not seem like a man to her. She did not notice the impression she made on M. Desforges, nor his embarrassment, nor his trepidation, nor his changed voice. For several days in a row then she met him quite often, without deigning to pay more attention. Unexpectedly, she received a completely new concept about him.
Several bear cubs were usually raised in Kiril Petrovich's yard and constituted one of the main amusements of the Pokrovsky landowner. In their first youth, the cubs were brought daily into the living room, where Kirila Petrovich spent hours fiddling with them, pitting them against cats and puppies. Having matured, they were put on a chain, awaiting real persecution. Occasionally they would take them out to the windows of the manor's house and roll them an empty wine barrel studded with nails; the bear sniffed her, then quietly touched her, pricked his paws, angrily pushed her harder, and the pain became stronger. He would fly into a complete rage and throw himself on the barrel with a roar until the object of his futile rage was taken away from the poor beast. It happened that a couple of bears were harnessed to a cart, and, willy-nilly, they put guests in it and let them ride to God’s will. But Kiril Petrovich considered the following to be the best joke.
A bear that had been petted would sometimes be locked in an empty room, tied with a rope to a ring screwed into the wall. The rope was almost the length of the entire room, so that only the opposite corner could be safe from the attack of a terrible beast. They usually brought the newcomer to the door of this room, accidentally pushed him towards the bear, the doors were locked, and the unfortunate victim was left alone with the shaggy hermit. The poor guest, with his shirt torn and scratched to the point of blood, soon found a safe corner, but was sometimes forced to stand pressed against the wall for three whole hours and see how an enraged beast two steps away from him roared, jumped, reared, tore and struggled until reach him. Such were the noble amusements of the Russian master! A few days after the teacher’s arrival, Troekurov remembered him and intended to treat him in the bear’s room: for this purpose, calling him one morning, he led him along dark corridors; suddenly the side door opened, two servants pushed the Frenchman into it and locked it with a key. Having come to his senses, the teacher saw a tied bear, the animal began to snort, sniffing its guest from afar, and suddenly, rising on its hind legs, walked towards him... The Frenchman was not embarrassed, did not run and waited for the attack. The bear approached, Desforges took a small pistol out of his pocket, put it in the hungry beast’s ear and fired. The bear fell down. Everyone came running, the doors opened, Kirila Petrovich entered, amazed at the outcome of his joke. Kirila Petrovich certainly wanted an explanation for the whole matter: who told Deforge about the joke prepared for him, or why he had a loaded pistol in his pocket. He sent for Masha, Masha came running and translated her father’s questions to the Frenchman.
“I have not heard of a bear,” replied Desforges, “but I always carry pistols with me, because I do not intend to endure an insult for which, according to my rank, I cannot demand satisfaction.”
Masha looked at him in amazement and translated his words to Kiril Petrovich. Kirila Petrovich did not answer anything, he ordered to pull out the bear and skin it; then, turning to his people, he said: “What a fellow! I didn’t chicken out, by God, I didn’t chicken out.” From that moment he fell in love with Deforge and never thought of trying him.
But this incident made an even greater impression on Marya Kirilovna. Her imagination was amazed: she saw a dead bear and Deforge calmly standing over it and calmly talking to her. She saw that courage and proud pride did not exclusively belong to one class, and from then on she began to show the young teacher respect, which became more attentive hour by hour. Some relations were established between them. Masha had a wonderful voice and great musical abilities; Deforge volunteered to give her lessons. After that, it is no longer difficult for the reader to guess that Masha fell in love with him, without even admitting it to herself.
Volume two
Chapter IX
On the eve of the holiday, guests began to arrive, some stayed in the manor's house and outbuildings, others with the clerk, others with the priest, and others with wealthy peasants. The stables were full of traveling horses, the courtyards and barns were cluttered with various carriages. At nine o'clock in the morning they announced mass, and everyone flocked to the new stone church, built by Kiril Petrovich and annually decorated with his offerings. So many honorable pilgrims gathered that ordinary peasants could not fit into the church and stood on the porch and in the fence. Mass did not begin; they were waiting for Kiril Petrovich. He arrived in a wheeled carriage and solemnly went to his place, accompanied by Maria Kirilovna. The eyes of men and women turned to her; the first were surprised at her beauty, the second carefully examined her outfit. Mass began, the household singers sang in the choir, Kirila Petrovich himself pulled him up, prayed, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and bowed to the ground with proud humility when the deacon loudly mentioned the builder of this temple.
Mass is over. Kirila Petrovich was the first to approach the cross. Everyone followed him, then the neighbors approached him with respect. The ladies surrounded Masha. Kirila Petrovich, leaving the church, invited everyone to his place for dinner, got into the carriage and went home. Everyone went after him. The rooms were filled with guests. New faces entered every minute and could force their way to the owner. The ladies sat in a decorous semicircle, dressed in belated fashion, in worn and expensive clothes, all in pearls and diamonds, the men crowded around the caviar and vodka, talking to each other with noisy disagreement. A table with eighty cutlery was set in the hall. Servants bustled about, arranging bottles and decanters and adjusting tablecloths. Finally, the butler announced: “The meal has been set,” and Kirila Petrovich was the first to go sit down at the table, the ladies moved behind him and took their places importantly, observing a certain seniority, the young ladies crowded together like a timid herd of goats and chose their places one next to the other. The men stood opposite them. The teacher sat down at the end of the table next to little Sasha.
The servants began to carry the plates to ranks, in case of confusion, guided by Lavater's guesses*, and almost always without error. The clinking of plates and spoons merged with the noisy chatter of the guests, Kirila Petrovich cheerfully surveyed his meal and fully enjoyed the happiness of the hospitable man. At this time, a carriage drawn by six horses drove into the yard. "Who is this?" - asked the owner. “Anton Pafnutich,” answered several voices. The doors opened, and Anton Pafnutich Spitsyn, a fat man of about 50 with a round and pockmarked face, adorned with a triple chin, burst into the dining room, bowing, smiling and already about to apologize... “Get the device here,” shouted Kirila Petrovich, “you’re welcome, Anton Pafnutich, sit down and tell us what this means: you weren’t at my mass and were late for dinner. This is not like you: you are both religious and love to eat.” “It’s my fault,” answered Anton Pafnutich, tying a napkin into the buttonhole of his pea caftan, “it’s my fault, Father Kirila Petrovich, I set off on the road early, but didn’t even have time to drive ten miles, suddenly the tire on the front wheel was split in half - what do you order? Fortunately, it was not far from the village; By the time they dragged themselves to it, found the blacksmith, and somehow sorted everything out, exactly three hours passed, there was nothing to do. I didn’t dare take the shortcut through the Kistenevsky forest, but took a detour...”
- Hey! - Kirila Petrovich interrupted, - you know, you’re not one of the brave dozen; what are you afraid of?
- How - what am I afraid of, Father Kirila Petrovich, but of Dubrovsky; You'll soon fall into his clutches. He's no slouch, he won't let anyone down, and he'll probably take two skins off me.
- Why, brother, is there such a difference?
- Why for what, Father Kirila Petrovich? and for the litigation of the deceased Andrei Gavrilovich. Was it not I, for your pleasure, that is, in conscience and justice, who showed that the Dubrovskys own Kistenevka without any right to do so, but solely out of your condescension? And the deceased (may he rest in heaven) promised to communicate with me in his own way, and my son, perhaps, will keep his father’s word. Until now, God has been merciful. They've just looted one of my hangars, and before long they'll get to the estate.
“And in the estate they will have freedom,” remarked Kirila Petrovich, “I have tea, the red box is full...
- Where, Father Kirila Petrovich. It was full, but now it’s completely empty!
– Stop lying, Anton Pafnutich. We know you; where should you spend your money, you live like a pig at home, you don’t accept anyone, you rip off your men, you know, you save and that’s all.
“You all deign to joke, Father Kirila Petrovich,” Anton Pafnutich muttered with a smile, “but we, by God, are ruined,” and Anton Pafnutich began to eat up his master’s lordly joke with a fat piece of kulebyaki. Kirila Petrovich left him and turned to the new police officer, who had come to visit him for the first time and was sitting at the other end of the table next to the teacher.
- So, will you at least catch Dubrovsky, Mr. Police Officer?
The police officer got cold feet, bowed, smiled, stuttered and finally said:
– We will try, Your Excellency.
- Hm, we'll try. They've been trying for a long, long time, but it still doesn't do any good. Yes, really, why catch him? Dubrovsky's robberies are a blessing for police officers: travel, investigations, carts, and money in your pocket. How can such a benefactor be known? Isn't it true, Mr. Police Officer?
“The absolute truth, your Excellency,” answered the completely embarrassed police officer.
The guests laughed.
“I love the fellow for his sincerity,” said Kirila Petrovich, “but I feel sorry for our late police officer Taras Alekseevich; If only they hadn’t burned it, it would have been quieter in the neighborhood. What have you heard about Dubrovsky? where was he last seen?
“At my place, Kirila Petrovich,” squeaked a thick lady’s voice, “he dined with me last Tuesday...
All eyes turned to Anna Savishna Globova, a rather simple widow, beloved by everyone for her kind and cheerful disposition. Everyone prepared to hear her story with curiosity.
“You need to know that three weeks ago I sent a clerk to the post office with money for my Vanyusha. I don’t spoil my son, and I’m not able to spoil my son, even if I wanted to; however, please know for yourself: a guard officer needs to support himself in a decent manner, and Vanyusha and I share my income as best I can. So I sent him two thousand rubles, even though Dubrovsky came to my mind more than once, but I thought: the city is close, only seven miles, maybe God will carry it through. I saw my clerk returning in the evening, pale, ragged and on foot - I just gasped. - "What's happened? what happened to you? He told me: “Mother Anna Savishna, the robbers robbed me; They almost killed me, Dubrovsky himself was here, he wanted to hang me, but he took pity on me and let me go, but he robbed me of everything, took away both the horse and the cart.” I froze; My heavenly king, what will happen to my Vanyusha? There is nothing to do: I wrote a letter to my son, told him everything and sent him my blessing without a penny of money.
A week passed, then another - suddenly a stroller drove into my yard. Some general asks to see me: you are welcome; a man of about thirty-five, dark-skinned, black-haired, with a mustache and beard, a real portrait of Kulnev, comes up to me, recommended to me as a friend and colleague of my late husband Ivan Andreevich; He was driving by and couldn’t help but stop by his widow, knowing that I lived here. I treated him to what God had sent, we talked about this and that, and finally about Dubrovsky. I told him my grief. My general frowned. “This is strange,” he said, “I heard that Dubrovsky attacks not everyone, but famous rich people, but even here he shares with them, and does not rob him outright, and no one accuses him of murder; Is there any trickery here, order your clerk to be called.” Sent for the clerk, he appeared; As soon as he saw the general, he was dumbfounded. “Tell me, brother, how Dubrovsky robbed you and how he wanted to hang you.” My clerk trembled and fell at the general’s feet. “Father, it’s my fault - it’s a sin - I misled - I lied.” “If that’s the case,” answered the general, “then please tell the lady how the whole thing happened, and I’ll listen.” The clerk could not come to his senses. “Well,” the general continued, “tell me: where did you meet Dubrovsky?” - “At two pines, father, at two pines.” - “What did he tell you?” - “He asked me, whose are you, where are you going and why?” - “Well, what about after?” “And then he demanded a letter and money.” - "Well". - “I gave him the letter and the money.” - “And he?.. Well, what about him?” - “Father, it’s my fault.” - “Well, what did he do?..” - “He returned the money to me and the letter and said: go to God, give it to the post office.” - "Well, what about you?" - “Father, it’s my fault.” “I’ll handle it with you, my dear,” the general said menacingly, “and you, madam, order a search of this swindler’s chest and hand it over to me, and I’ll teach him a lesson.” Know that Dubrovsky himself was a guards officer; he will not want to offend his comrade.” I guessed who His Excellency was; I had no need to talk to him about it. The coachmen tied the clerk to the carriage's goats. The money was found; the general dined with me, then immediately left and took the clerk with him. My steward was found the next day in the forest, tied to an oak tree and skinned like a stick.
Everyone listened in silence to Anna Savishna's story, especially the young lady. Many of them secretly wished him well, seeing him as a romantic hero, especially Marya Kirilovna, an ardent dreamer, imbued with the mysterious horrors of Radcliffe.
“And you, Anna Savishna, believe that you had Dubrovsky himself,” asked Kirila Petrovich. - You were very mistaken. I don’t know who was your guest, but not Dubrovsky.
- Why, father, not Dubrovsky, and who else if not him, will drive out onto the road and begin to stop passers-by and inspect them.
– I don’t know, and certainly not Dubrovsky. I remember him as a child; I don’t know if his hair turned black, and then he was a curly, blond boy, but I know for sure that Dubrovsky is five years older than my Masha and that, consequently, he is not thirty-five years old, but about twenty-three.
“That’s right, Your Excellency,” declared the police officer, “I have signs of Vladimir Dubrovsky in my pocket.” They definitely say that he is twenty-third years old.
- A! - said Kirila Petrovich, - by the way: read it, and we’ll listen; It’s not bad for us to know his signs; Maybe it catches your eye, it won’t turn out.
The police officer took a rather soiled piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it with importance and began to recite it.
“Signs of Vladimir Dubrovsky, compiled from the tales of his former courtyard people.
He is 23 years old, of average height, has a clean face, shaves his beard, has brown eyes, light brown hair, and a straight nose. There are special signs: there were none.”
“And that’s all,” said Kirila Petrovich.
“Only,” answered the police officer, folding the paper.
- Congratulations, Mister Police Officer. Oh yes paper! Based on these signs, it will not be difficult for you to find Dubrovsky. But who is not of average height, who does not have brown hair, a straight nose and brown eyes! I bet you will talk to Dubrovsky himself for three hours straight, and you will not guess with whom God brought you together. Nothing to say, smart little heads!
The police officer humbly put his paper in his pocket and silently began to eat the goose and cabbage. Meanwhile, the servants had already walked around the guests several times, pouring each one a glass. Several bottles of Gorsky and Tsimlyansky were already loudly uncorked and accepted favorably under the name of champagne, faces began to blush, conversations became louder, more incoherent and more fun.
“No,” continued Kirila Petrovich, “we will never see such a police officer as the deceased Taras Alekseevich was!” This one was no mistake, no mistake. It’s a pity that they burned the fellow, otherwise not a single person in the whole gang would have left him. He would have caught every single one of them, and Dubrovsky himself would not have turned around and paid off. Taras Alekseevich would have taken the money from him, but he wouldn’t let him go: that was the custom of the deceased. There is nothing to do, apparently, I should intervene in this matter and go after the robbers with my family. In the first case, I’ll detach about twenty people, and they’ll clear out the thieves’ grove; the people are not cowardly, everyone goes after a bear alone, they will not back away from robbers.
“Is your bear healthy, Father Kirila Petrovich,” said Anton Pafnutich, remembering with these words about his shaggy acquaintance and about some jokes, of which he himself was once a victim.
“Misha ordered me to live long,” answered Kirila Petrovich. - He died a glorious death, at the hands of the enemy. There’s his winner,” Kirila Petrovich pointed to Deforge, “exchange the image of my Frenchman.” He avenged your... if I may say so... Do you remember?
“How can I not remember,” said Anton Pafnutich, scratching himself, “I remember very much.” So Misha died. I feel sorry for Misha, I swear to God! what a funny man he was! what a clever girl! You won’t find another bear like this. Why did Monsieur kill him?
Kirila Petrovich began to tell with great pleasure the feat of his Frenchman, for he had the happy ability to be proud of everything that surrounded him. The guests listened with attention to the story of Misha's death and looked with amazement at Deforge, who, not suspecting that the conversation was about his courage, sat calmly in his place and made moral comments to his frisky pupil.
The dinner, which lasted about three hours, was over; the owner put the napkin on the table, everyone got up and went into the living room, where coffee, cards and the continuation of the drinking session that had so nicely begun in the dining room awaited them.
Chapter X
At about seven o'clock in the evening, some guests wanted to leave, but the owner, amused by the punch, ordered the gates to be locked and announced that he would not let anyone out of the yard until the next morning. Soon the music began to thunder, the doors to the hall opened, and the ball began. The owner and his entourage sat in the corner, drinking glass after glass and admiring the gaiety of the youth. The old women played cards. There were fewer cavaliers, as everywhere else where some uhlan brigade was not stationed, than ladies; all the men who were fit for duty were recruited. The teacher was different from everyone, he danced more than anyone else, all the young ladies chose him and found it very clever to waltz with him. Several times he circled with Marya Kirilovna, and the young ladies mockingly noticed them. Finally, around midnight, the tired owner stopped dancing, ordered dinner, and went to bed.
The absence of Kiril Petrovich gave society more freedom and liveliness. The gentlemen dared to take a place next to the ladies. The girls laughed and whispered with their neighbors; the ladies were talking loudly across the table. The men drank, argued and laughed - in short, the dinner was extremely fun and left behind many pleasant memories.
Only one person did not participate in the general joy: Anton Pafnutich sat gloomy and silent in his place, ate absentmindedly and seemed extremely restless. Talk about robbers excited his imagination. We will soon see that he had good reason to fear them.
Anton Pafnutich, calling the Lord as a witness that his red box was empty, did not lie and did not sin: the red box was definitely empty, the money that was once stored in it went into the leather bag that he carried on his chest under his shirt. With this precaution he calmed his distrust of everyone and his eternal fear. Being forced to spend the night in someone else's house, he was afraid that they would give him a place to sleep somewhere in a secluded room, where thieves could easily get into. He looked with his eyes for a reliable comrade and finally chose Desforges. His appearance, revealing strength, and even more so the courage he showed when meeting with a bear, which poor Anton Pafnutich could not remember without a shudder, decided his choice. When they got up from the table, Anton Pafnutich began to hover around the young Frenchman, grunting and clearing his throat, and finally turned to him with an explanation.
- Hm, hm, is it possible, monsieur, for me to spend the night in your kennel, because if you please see...
Anton Pafnutich, very pleased with his knowledge of French, immediately went to give orders.
The guests began to say goodbye to each other, and each went to the room assigned to him. And Anton Pafnutich went with the teacher to the outbuilding. The night was dark. Deforge illuminated the road with a lantern, Anton Pafnutich followed him quite cheerfully, occasionally clutching a hidden bag to his chest in order to make sure that his money was still with him.
Arriving at the outbuilding, the teacher lit a candle, and both began to undress; Meanwhile, Anton Pafnutich paced around the room, examining the locks and windows and shaking his head at this disappointing inspection. The doors were locked with a single bolt, the windows did not yet have double frames. He tried to complain to Deforge about this, but his knowledge of French was too limited for such a complex explanation; the Frenchman did not understand him, and Anton Pafnutich was forced to abandon his complaints. Their beds stood one opposite the other, they both lay down, and the teacher put out the candle.
- Pourquois vous touché, pourquois vous touchés? - Anton Pafnutich shouted, conjugating the Russian verb carcass in half in the French way. - I can’t sleep in the dark. – Deforge did not understand his exclamation and wished him good night.
“You damned infidel,” Spitsyn grumbled, wrapping himself in a blanket. “He needed to put out the candle.” It's worse for him. I can't sleep without fire. “Monsieur, monsieur,” he continued, “same ve avec vu parlé.” “But the Frenchman did not answer and soon began to snore.
“The beastly Frenchman is snoring,” thought Anton Pafnutich, “but I can’t even sleep. Just look, thieves will enter the open doors or climb through the window, and you won’t even get him, the beast, with guns.”
- Monsieur! ah, monsieur! Damn you.
Anton Pafnutich fell silent, fatigue and the wine fumes little by little overcame his timidity, he began to doze, and soon a deep sleep completely took possession of him.
A strange awakening was in store for him. In his sleep, he felt that someone was quietly tugging at the collar of his shirt. Anton Pafnutich opened his eyes and, in the pale light of the autumn morning, saw Deforge in front of him: the Frenchman was holding a pocket pistol in one hand, and with the other he was unfastening the treasured bag. Anton Pafnutich froze.
- What is it, monsieur, what is it? – he said in a trembling voice.
“Hush, be silent,” answered the teacher in pure Russian, “be silent, or you are lost.” I am Dubrovsky.
Chapter XI
Now let us ask the reader for permission to explain the last incidents of our story by previous circumstances, which we have not yet had time to tell.
At the station ** in the house of the caretaker, whom we have already mentioned, a traveler was sitting in the corner with a humble and patient look, denouncing a commoner or a foreigner, that is, a person who does not have a voice on the postal route. His chaise stood in the yard, waiting for grease. There was a small suitcase in it, a skinny proof of not very sufficient wealth. The traveler did not ask for tea or coffee, looked out the window and whistled, to the great displeasure of the caretaker sitting behind the partition.
“God sent a whistler,” she said in a low voice, “he’s whistling so that he bursts, you damned bastard.”
- And what? - said the caretaker, - what a problem, let him whistle.
- What's the problem? - objected the angry wife. - Don’t you know the signs?
- What sign? that whistling money survives. AND! Pakhomovna, we have some whistling, some not: but there’s still no money.
- Let him go, Sidorich. You want to keep it. Give him the horses and he'll go to hell.
– He’ll wait, Pakhomovna; There are only three triples in the stable, the fourth is resting. Just a moment, good travelers will arrive; I don’t want to be responsible for the Frenchman with my neck. Chew, that's right! there they jump. Eh-gee-gee, how cool; isn't it a general?
The carriage stopped at the porch. The servant jumped off the box, unlocked the doors, and a minute later a young man in a military overcoat and a white cap entered the caretaker’s room; after him the servant brought in the box and placed it on the window.
“Horses,” said the officer in a commanding voice.
“Now,” answered the caretaker. - Please go to the road.
- I don’t have a travel pass. I'm driving to the side... Don't you recognize me?
The caretaker began to fuss and rushed to hurry the coachmen. The young man began to pace back and forth around the room, went behind the partition and quietly asked the caretaker: who was the traveler?
“God knows,” answered the caretaker, “some Frenchman.” He's been waiting for the horses and whistling for five hours now. I'm tired of it, damn it.
The young man spoke to the traveler in French.
-Where do you want to go? - he asked him.
“To the nearest town,” answered the Frenchman, “from there I go to a landowner who hired me as a teacher. I thought I would be there today, but the caretaker, it seems, judged differently. It's hard to get horses in this land, Mr. Officer.
– Which of the local landowners have you decided on? – asked the officer.
“To Mr. Troekurov,” answered the Frenchman.
- To Troekurov? Who is this Troekurov?
- Ma foi, mon officier... I have heard little good about him. They say that he is a proud and capricious gentleman, cruel in his treatment of his household, that no one can get along with him, that everyone trembles at his name, that he does not stand on ceremony with teachers (avec les outchitels) and has already beaten two to death.
- Have mercy! and you decided to decide on such a monster.
- What should we do, Mr. Officer? He offers me a good salary, three thousand rubles a year and everything is ready. Perhaps I will be happier than others. I have an old mother, I will send half of my salary to her for food, from the rest of the money in five years I can accumulate a small capital sufficient for my future independence, and then bonsoir, I go to Paris and embark on commercial activities.
– Does anyone in Troekurov’s house know you? - he asked.
“Nobody,” answered the teacher. “He sent me out of Moscow through one of his friends, whose cook, my compatriot, recommended me. You need to know that I was not training to be a teacher, but to be a pastry chef, but I was told that in your land the teaching title is much more profitable...
The officer thought about it.
“Listen,” he interrupted the Frenchman, “what if, instead of this future, they offered you ten thousand in pure money so that you could immediately go back to Paris.”
The Frenchman looked at the officer in amazement, smiled and shook his head.
“The horses are ready,” said the caretaker who entered. The servant confirmed the same.
“Now,” the officer answered, “go out for a minute.” - The caretaker and servant came out. “I’m not joking,” he continued in French, “I can give you ten thousand, I only need your absence and your papers.” - With these words, he unlocked the box and took out several stacks of banknotes.
The Frenchman widened his eyes. He didn't know what to think.
“My absence... my papers,” he repeated in amazement. - Here are my papers... But you’re kidding: why do you need my papers?
– You don’t care about that. I'm asking if you agree or not?
The Frenchman, still not believing his ears, handed his papers to the young officer, who quickly reviewed them.
The Frenchman stood rooted to the spot.
The officer returned.
– I forgot the most important thing. Give me your word of honor that all this will remain between us, your word of honor.
“My word of honor,” answered the Frenchman. – But my papers, what should I do without them?
- In the first city, announce that you were robbed by Dubrovsky. They will believe you and give you the necessary evidence. Goodbye, may God grant you to get to Paris soon and find your mother in good health.
Dubrovsky left the room, got into the carriage and galloped off.
The caretaker looked out the window, and when the carriage drove away, he turned to his wife with the exclamation: “Pakhomovna, do you know what? after all, it was Dubrovsky.”
The caretaker rushed headlong to the window, but it was too late: Dubrovsky was too far away. She began to scold her husband:
“You’re not afraid of God, Sidorich, why didn’t you tell me that before, I would have at least looked at Dubrovsky, but now wait for him to turn around again.” You are shameless, really, shameless!
The Frenchman stood rooted to the spot. The agreement with the officer, the money, everything seemed like a dream to him. But the piles of banknotes were there in his pocket and eloquently told him about the significance of the amazing incident.
He decided to hire horses to the city. The coachman drove him at a walk, and at night he dragged himself to the city.
Before reaching the outpost, where instead of a sentry there was a collapsed booth, the Frenchman ordered to stop, got out of the chaise and walked on foot, explaining with signs to the driver that he was giving him the chaise and suitcase for vodka. The coachman was as amazed at his generosity as the Frenchman himself at Dubrovsky’s offer. But, concluding from the fact that the German had gone mad, the coachman thanked him with a zealous bow and, not considering it a good idea to enter the city, went to an entertainment establishment known to him, the owner of which was very familiar to him. He spent the whole night there, and the next day in the morning, on an empty troika, he set off home without a chaise and without a suitcase, with a plump face and red eyes.
Dubrovsky, having taken possession of the Frenchman's papers, boldly came, as we have already seen, to Troekurov and settled in his house. Whatever his secret intentions were (we will find out later), there was nothing reprehensible in his behavior. True, he did little to educate little Sasha, gave him complete freedom to hang out and did not strictly punish him for the lessons given only for form, but with great diligence he followed the musical successes of his student and often sat with her for hours at the piano. Everyone loved the young teacher - Kirila Petrovich for his bold agility in the hunt, Marya Kirilovna for his unlimited zeal and timid attentiveness, Sasha for his indulgence in his pranks, his family for his kindness and generosity, apparently incompatible with his condition. He himself seemed to be attached to the whole family and already considered himself a member of it.
About a month passed from his assumption of the teaching rank to the memorable celebration, and no one suspected that in the modest young Frenchman lurked a formidable robber, whose name terrified all the surrounding owners. During all this time, Dubrovsky did not leave Pokrovsky, but the rumor about his robberies did not subside thanks to the inventive imagination of the villagers, but it could also happen that his gang continued its actions even in the absence of the boss.
Spending the night in the same room with a man whom he could consider his personal enemy and one of the main culprits of his disaster, Dubrovsky could not resist temptation. He knew about the existence of the bag and decided to take possession of it. We saw how he amazed poor Anton Pafnutich with his unexpected transformation from teachers into robbers.
At nine o'clock in the morning, the guests who had spent the night in Pokrovskoye gathered one after another in the living room, where the samovar was already boiling, in front of which Marya Kirilovna was sitting in her morning dress, and Kirila Petrovich in a flannelette frock coat and shoes was drinking his wide cup, similar to a gargle. The last to appear was Anton Pafnutich; he was so pale and seemed so upset that his appearance struck everyone and that Kirila Petrovich inquired about his health. Spitsyn answered without any meaning and looked with horror at the teacher, who immediately sat as if nothing had happened. A few minutes later the servant came in and announced to Spitsyn that his carriage was ready; Anton Pafnutich hurried to take his leave and, despite the owner’s admonitions, hurriedly left the room and immediately left. They didn’t understand what had happened to him, and Kirila Petrovich decided that he had eaten too much. After tea and a farewell breakfast, the other guests began to leave, soon Pokrovskoye was empty, and everything returned to normal.
Chapter XII
Several days passed and nothing of note happened. The life of the inhabitants of Pokrovsky was monotonous. Kirila Petrovich went hunting every day; Reading, walks and music lessons occupied Marya Kirilovna, especially music lessons. She began to understand her own heart and admitted, with involuntary annoyance, that it was not indifferent to the merits of the young Frenchman. For his part, he did not go beyond the bounds of respect and strict decency, and thereby calmed her pride and fearful doubts. She indulged in this fascinating habit with more and more trust. She was bored without Deforge, in his presence she busied herself with him every minute, wanted to know his opinion about everything and always agreed with him. Perhaps she was not yet in love, but at the first accidental obstacle or sudden persecution of fate, the flame of passion was bound to flare up in her heart.
One day, arriving in the hall where her teacher was waiting, Marya Kirilovna noticed with amazement the embarrassment on his pale face. She opened the piano and sang a few notes, but Dubrovsky, under the pretext of a headache, apologized, interrupted the lesson and, closing the notes, secretly gave her a note. Marya Kirilovna, without having time to come to her senses, accepted her and repented at that very moment, but Dubrovsky was no longer in the hall. Marya Kirilovna went to her room, unfolded the note and read the following:
“Be at the gazebo by the stream today at 7 o’clock. I need to talk to you."
Her curiosity was greatly aroused. She had been waiting for recognition for a long time, wanting and fearing it. She would be pleased to hear confirmation of what she suspected, but she felt that it would be indecent for her to hear such an explanation from a man who, due to his condition, could not hope to ever receive her hand. She decided to go on a date, but hesitated on one thing: how she would accept the teacher’s confession, with aristocratic indignation, with exhortations of friendship, with cheerful jokes, or with silent participation. Meanwhile, she kept glancing at her watch. It got dark, candles were served, Kirila Petrovich sat down to play Boston with his visiting neighbors. The dining room clock struck the third quarter of seven, and Marya Kirilovna quietly went out onto the porch, looked around in all directions and ran into the garden.
The night was dark, the sky was covered with clouds, it was impossible to see anything two steps away, but Marya Kirilovna walked in the darkness along familiar paths and a minute later found herself at the gazebo; here she stopped to take a breath and appear before Desforges with an air of indifference and unhurriedness. But Desforges was already standing in front of her.
“Thank you,” he told her in a quiet and sad voice, “that you did not refuse me my request.” I would be in despair if you did not agree to this.
Marya Kirilovna answered with a prepared phrase:
“I hope that you will not make me repent of my leniency.”
He was silent and seemed to be gathering his courage.
“Circumstances require... I must leave you,” he finally said, “you may soon hear... But before parting, I must explain myself to you...
Marya Kirilovna did not answer anything. She saw these words as a preface to the expected recognition.
“I’m not what you assume,” he continued, lowering his head, “I’m not the Frenchman Deforge, I’m Dubrovsky.”
Marya Kirilovna screamed.
“Don’t be afraid, for God’s sake, you shouldn’t be afraid of my name.” Yes, I am that unfortunate person whom your father deprived of a piece of bread, kicked out of his father’s house and sent to rob on the highways. But you don’t need to be afraid of me, neither for yourself nor for him. Everything is over. I forgave him. Look, you saved him. My first bloody feat was to be accomplished over him. I walked around his house, designating where the fire would break out, where to enter his bedroom, how to cut off all his escape routes, at that moment you passed by me like a heavenly vision, and my heart was humbled. I realized that the house where you live is sacred, that not a single creature connected with you by blood ties is subject to my curse. I gave up revenge as if it were madness. For whole days I wandered around the Pokrovsky gardens in the hope of seeing your white dress from afar. In your careless walks I followed you, sneaking from bush to bush, happy in the thought that I was protecting you, that there was no danger for you where I was secretly present. Finally the opportunity presented itself. I settled in your house. These three weeks were days of happiness for me. Their memory will be the joy of my sad life... Today I received news, after which it is impossible for me to stay here any longer. I’m parting with you today... this very hour... But first I had to open up to you so that you wouldn’t curse me or despise me. Think about Dubrovsky sometimes. Know that he was born for a different purpose, that his soul knew how to love you, that he never...
Then a light whistle was heard, and Dubrovsky fell silent. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his burning lips. The whistle was repeated.
“Excuse me,” said Dubrovsky, “my name is, a minute can destroy me.” “He walked away, Marya Kirilovna stood motionless, Dubrovsky returned and took her hand again. “If ever,” he said to her in a gentle and touching voice, “if someday misfortune befalls you and you expect neither help nor protection from anyone, in that case, do you promise to resort to me, to demand from me everything - for your salvation? Do you promise not to reject my devotion?
Marya Kirilovna cried silently. The whistle sounded a third time.
- You are ruining me! - Dubrovsky shouted. - I will not leave you until you give me an answer, whether you promise or not?
“I promise,” whispered the poor beauty.
Excited by her meeting with Dubrovsky, Marya Kirilovna was returning from the garden. It seemed to her that all the people were running away, the house was in motion, there were a lot of people in the yard, a troika was standing at the porch, from a distance she heard Kiril Petrovich’s voice and hurried to enter the rooms, fearing that her absence would not be noticed. Kirila Petrovich met her in the hall, the guests surrounded the police officer, our acquaintance, and showered him with questions. A police officer in a traveling dress, armed from head to toe, answered them with a mysterious and fussy look.
“Where were you, Masha,” asked Kirila Petrovich, “did you meet Mr. Deforge?” – Masha could hardly answer negatively.
“Imagine,” continued Kirila Petrovich, “the police officer came to seize him and assures me that it is Dubrovsky himself.”
“All the signs, Your Excellency,” said the police officer respectfully.
“Eh, brother,” interrupted Kirila Petrovich, “go away, you know where, with your signs.” I won’t give you my Frenchman until I sort out the matter myself. How can you take the word of Anton Pafnutich, a coward and a liar: he dreamed that the teacher wanted to rob him. Why didn’t he say a word to me that same morning?
“The Frenchman intimidated him, Your Excellency,” answered the police officer, “and took an oath of silence from him...
“It’s a lie,” Kirila Petrovich decided, “now I’ll bring everything to light.” Where is the teacher? - he asked the servant who entered.
“They won’t find it anywhere,” answered the servant.
“Then find him,” shouted Troekurov, beginning to doubt. “Show me your vaunted signs,” he said to the police officer, who immediately handed him the paper. - Hm, hm, twenty-three years... It’s true, but it still doesn’t prove anything. What about the teacher?
“They won’t find it, sir,” was the answer again. Kirila Petrovich began to worry; Marya Kirilovna was neither alive nor dead.
“You’re pale, Masha,” her father remarked to her, “they scared you.”
“No, daddy,” answered Masha, “I have a headache.”
- Go to your room, Masha, and don’t worry. “Masha kissed his hand and went quickly to her room, where she threw herself on the bed and sobbed in a hysterical fit. The maids came running, undressed her, forcibly managed to calm her down with cold water and all kinds of alcohols, they laid her down, and she fell into a sleepy state.
Meanwhile, the Frenchman was not found. Kirila Petrovich walked back and forth around the hall, whistling menacingly. The thunder of victory was heard. The guests were whispering to each other, the police chief seemed to be a fool, and the Frenchman was not found. He probably managed to escape after being warned. But by whom and how? it remained a secret.
It was eleven, and no one thought about sleep. Finally, Kirila Petrovich said angrily to the police officer:
- Well? After all, it’s not time for you to stay here, my house is not a tavern, it’s not with your agility, brother, to catch Dubrovsky, if it’s Dubrovsky. Go home and be quicker ahead. “It’s time for you to go home,” he continued, turning to the guests. - Tell me to lay it down, but I want to sleep.
So mercilessly Troekurov parted with his guests!
Chapter XIII
Some time passed without any remarkable incident. But at the beginning of the next summer, many changes occurred in the family life of Kiril Petrovich.
Thirty miles from him was the rich estate of Prince Vereisky. The prince was in foreign lands for a long time, his entire estate was managed by a retired major, and no communication existed between Pokrovsky and Arbatov. But at the end of May the prince returned from abroad and came to his village, which he had never seen before. Having become accustomed to absent-mindedness, he could not bear solitude and on the third day after his arrival he went to dine with Troekurov, whom he had once known.
The prince was about fifty years old, but he seemed much older. Excesses of all kinds exhausted his health and left their indelible mark on him. Despite this, his appearance was pleasant and remarkable, and his habit of always being in society gave him a certain courtesy, especially with women. He had a constant need for distraction and was constantly bored. Kirila Petrovich was extremely pleased with his visit, accepting it as a sign of respect from a man who knew the world; As usual, he treated him to a tour of his establishments and took him to the kennel yard. But the prince almost suffocated in the canine atmosphere and hurried to get out, pinching his nose with a handkerchief sprinkled with perfume. He did not like the ancient garden with its trimmed linden trees, quadrangular pond and regular alleys; he loved English gardens and so-called nature, but he praised and admired; the servant came to report that the meal had been set. They went to lunch. The prince limped, tired from his walk and already repenting of his visit.
But Marya Kirilovna met them in the hall, and the old red tape was struck by her beauty. Troekurov seated the guest next to her. The prince was enlivened by her presence, was cheerful and managed to attract her attention several times with his curious stories. After dinner, Kirila Petrovich offered to ride on horseback, but the prince apologized, pointing to his velvet boots and joking about his gout; he preferred to walk in a line, so as not to be separated from his dear neighbor. The line was laid. The three of them and the beauty sat down and drove off. The conversation did not stop. Marya Kirilovna listened with pleasure to the flattering and cheerful greetings of a socialite, when suddenly Vereisky, turning to Kiril Petrovich, asked him what this burnt building meant and whether it belonged to him?.. Kiril Petrovich frowned; the memories aroused in him by the burnt estate were unpleasant to him. He replied that the land was now his and that it previously belonged to Dubrovsky.
“Dubrovsky,” repeated Vereisky, “what, this glorious robber?”
“His father,” answered Troekurov, “and his father was a decent robber.”
– Where did our Rinaldo go? is he alive, is he captured?
“And he’s alive and free, and as long as we have police officers at one with the thieves, until then he won’t be caught; By the way, Prince, Dubrovsky visited you in Arbatov?
- Yes, last year, it seems, he burned or looted something... Isn’t it true, Marya Kirilovna, that it would be interesting to get to know this romantic hero briefly?
- What’s interesting! - said Troekurov, - she knows him: he taught her music for three whole weeks, but thank God he didn’t charge anything for the lessons. “Here Kirila Petrovich began to tell a story about his French teacher. Marya Kirilovna sat as if on pins and needles. Vereisky listened with deep attention, found it all very strange and changed the conversation. Returning, he ordered his carriage to be brought in and, despite Kiril Petrovich’s strong requests to stay overnight, he left immediately after tea. But first he asked Kiril Petrovich to come visit him with Marya Kirilovna, and the proud Troekurov promised, for, having respected the princely dignity, two stars and three thousand souls of the family estate, he to some extent considered Prince Vereisky to be his equal.
Two days after this visit, Kiril Petrovich went with his daughter to visit Prince Vereisky. Approaching Arbatov, he could not help but admire the clean and cheerful peasant huts and the stone manor house, built in the style of English castles. In front of the house lay a dense green meadow, on which Swiss cows grazed, ringing their bells. A spacious park surrounded the house on all sides. The owner met the guests at the porch and offered his hand to the young beauty. They entered a magnificent hall, where the table was set for three places. The prince led the guests to the window, and a lovely view opened up to them. The Volga flowed in front of the windows, loaded barges sailed along it under stretched sails, and fishing boats, so expressively nicknamed gas chambers, flashed by. Beyond the river stretched hills and fields, several villages enlivened the surroundings. Then they began examining galleries of paintings bought by the prince in foreign lands. The prince explained to Marya Kirilovna their different contents, the history of the painters, and pointed out their advantages and disadvantages. He spoke about the paintings not in the conventional language of a pedantic connoisseur, but with feeling and imagination. Marya Kirilovna listened to him with pleasure. Let's go to the table. Troekurov did full justice to the wines of his Amphitryon and the skill of his cook, and Marya Kirilovna did not feel the slightest embarrassment or compulsion in a conversation with a man whom she had seen only for the second time in her life. After lunch, the owner invited the guests to go to the garden. They drank coffee in a gazebo on the shore of a wide lake dotted with islands. Suddenly brass music was heard, and a six-oared boat moored right next to the gazebo. They drove along the lake, near the islands, visited some of them, on one they found a marble statue, on another a secluded cave, on the third a monument with a mysterious inscription that aroused in Marya Kirilovna a girlish curiosity, not entirely satisfied by the polite omissions of the prince; Time passed unnoticed, it began to get dark. The prince, under the pretext of freshness and dew, hurried to return home; the samovar was waiting for them. The prince asked Marya Kirilovna to manage the old bachelor’s house. She poured tea, listening to the inexhaustible stories of the amiable talker; suddenly a shot rang out and the racket lit up the sky. The prince handed Marya Kirilovna a shawl and called her and Troekurov to the balcony. In front of the house in the darkness, multi-colored lights flashed, spun, rose up like ears of corn, palm trees, fountains, sprinkled with rain, stars, died out and flared up again. Marya Kirilovna was having fun like a child. Prince Vereisky rejoiced at her admiration, and Troekurov was extremely pleased with it, for he accepted the prince’s tous les frais as signs of respect and desire to please him.
Dinner was in no way inferior in dignity to lunch. The guests went to the rooms reserved for them, and the next morning they parted with the kind host, making each other a promise to see each other again soon.
Chapter XIV
Marya Kirilovna was sitting in her room, embroidering in a hoop, in front of the open window. She did not get confused with silks, like Conrad's mistress, who, in amorous absent-mindedness, embroidered a rose with green silk. Under her needle, the canvas unmistakably repeated the patterns of the original, despite the fact that her thoughts did not follow the work, they were far away.
Suddenly a hand quietly reached out through the window, someone put a letter on the hoop and disappeared before Marya Kirilovna had time to come to her senses. At this very time, a servant came in and called her to Kiril Petrovich. She tremblingly hid the letter behind her scarf and hurried to her father’s office.
Kirila Petrovich was not alone. Prince Vereisky was sitting with him. When Marya Kirilovna appeared, the prince stood up and silently bowed to her with confusion unusual for him.
“Come here, Masha,” said Kirila Petrovich, “I’ll tell you news that, I hope, will make you happy.” Here is your groom, the prince is wooing you.
Masha was dumbfounded, mortal pallor covered her face. She was silent. The prince approached her, took her hand and, looking touched, asked if she agreed to make him happy. Masha was silent.
“I agree, of course, I agree,” said Kirila Petrovich, “but you know, prince: it’s difficult for a girl to pronounce this word.” Well, children, kiss and be happy.
Masha stood motionless, the old prince kissed her hand, and suddenly tears ran down her pale face. The prince frowned slightly.
“Go, go, go,” said Kirila Petrovich, “dry your tears and come back to us cheerfully.” “They all cry when they get engaged,” he continued, turning to Vereisky, “that’s how it is with them... Now, prince, let’s talk about business, that is, about the dowry.
Marya Kirilovna greedily took advantage of the permission to leave. She ran to her room, locked herself in and gave vent to her tears, imagining herself as the wife of an old prince; he suddenly seemed disgusting and hateful to her... marriage frightened her like a scaffold, like a grave... “No, no,” she repeated in despair, “it’s better to die, it’s better to go to a monastery, it’s better to marry Dubrovsky.” Then she remembered the letter and eagerly rushed to read it, sensing that it was from him. In fact, it was written by him and contained only the following words: “In the evening at 10 o’clock. in the same place."
Chapter XV
The moon was shining, the July night was quiet, the breeze rose from time to time, and a light rustle ran through the entire garden.
Like a light shadow, the young beauty approached the place of the appointed meeting. No one was visible yet, suddenly Dubrovsky appeared in front of her from behind the gazebo.
“I know everything,” he told her in a quiet and sad voice. - Remember your promise.
“You offer me your protection,” answered Masha, “but don’t be angry: it scares me.” How will you help me?
“I could save you from the hated man.”
“For God’s sake, don’t touch him, don’t dare touch him, if you love me; I don’t want to be the cause of some horror...
“I won’t touch him, your will is sacred to me.” He owes his life to you. Never will a crime be committed in your name. You must be clean even of my crimes. But how can I save you from your cruel father?
– There is still hope. I hope to touch him with my tears and despair. He's stubborn, but he loves me so much.
“Don’t have empty hopes: in these tears he will see only ordinary timidity and disgust, common to all young girls when they marry not out of passion, but out of prudent calculation; what if he takes it into his head to make your happiness despite yourself; if they forcibly take you down the aisle to forever hand over your fate to the power of your old husband...
“Then, then there’s nothing to do, come for me, I’ll be your wife.”
Dubrovsky trembled, his pale face was covered with a crimson blush and at that very moment became paler than before. He was silent for a long time, lowering his head.
- Gather with all the strength of your soul, beg your father, throw yourself at his feet: imagine to him all the horror of the future, your youth withering near a frail and depraved old man, decide on a cruel explanation: tell him that if he remains inexorable, then... then you will find a terrible protection... say that wealth will not bring you even one minute of happiness; luxury consoles only poverty, and then out of habit for one moment; don’t lag behind him, don’t be frightened by his anger or threats, as long as there remains at least a shadow of hope, for God’s sake, don’t lag behind. If there is no other way...
Here Dubrovsky covered his face with his hands, he seemed to be suffocating, Masha was crying...
“My poor, poor fate,” he said, sighing bitterly. “I would give my life for you; seeing you from afar, touching your hand was ecstasy for me.” And when the opportunity opens up for me to press you to my worried heart and say: angel, we will die! poor thing, I must beware of bliss, I must distance it with all my might... I do not dare fall at your feet, thank heaven for an incomprehensible undeserved reward. Oh, how I should hate him, but I feel that now there is no place for hatred in my heart.
He quietly hugged her slender figure and quietly drew her to his heart. She bowed her head trustingly on the young robber's shoulder. Both were silent.
Time flew by. “It’s time,” Masha finally said. Dubrovsky seemed to have woken up from sleep. He took her hand and placed the ring on her finger.
“If you decide to resort to me,” he said, “then bring the ring here, lower it into the hollow of this oak tree, I will know what to do.”
Dubrovsky kissed her hand and disappeared between the trees.
Chapter XVI
The matchmaking of Prince Vereisky was no longer a secret to the neighborhood. Kirila Petrovich accepted congratulations, the wedding was being prepared. Masha put off a decisive announcement day by day. Meanwhile, her treatment of her old fiancé was cold and forced. The prince did not care about that. He didn’t bother about love, content with her silent consent.
But time passed. Masha finally decided to act and wrote a letter to Prince Vereisky; she tried to arouse a feeling of generosity in his heart, frankly admitted that she did not have the slightest affection for him, begged him to refuse her hand and himself protect her from the power of her parent. She quietly handed the letter to Prince Vereisky, who read it in private and was not in the least moved by the frankness of his bride. On the contrary, he saw the need to speed up the wedding and for this purpose considered it necessary to show the letter to his future father-in-law.
Kirila Petrovich was furious; The prince could hardly persuade him not to show Masha that he had been notified of her letter. Kirila Petrovich agreed not to tell her about it, but decided not to waste time and scheduled the wedding for the next day. The prince found this very prudent, went to his bride, told her that the letter saddened him very much, but that he hoped to eventually earn her affection, that the thought of losing her was too heavy for him and that he was unable to agree to his death sentence. For this, he respectfully kissed her hand and left without telling her a word about Kiril Petrovich’s decision.
But he barely had time to leave the yard when her father came in and directly told her to be ready for the next day. Marya Kirilovna, already excited by Prince Vereisky's explanation, burst into tears and threw herself at her father's feet.
“What does this mean,” Kirila Petrovich said menacingly, “until now you were silent and agreed, but now, when everything has been decided, you decided to be capricious and renounce.” Don't be a fool; You won't gain anything with me by doing this.
“Don’t ruin me,” repeated poor Masha, “why are you driving me away from you and giving me to an unloved person?” Are you tired of me? I want to stay with you as before. Daddy, you will be sad without me, even sadder when you think that I’m unhappy, daddy: don’t force me, I don’t want to get married...
Kirila Petrovich was touched, but hid his embarrassment and, pushing her away, said sternly:
“It’s all nonsense, do you hear?” I know better than you what is needed for your happiness. Tears will not help you, the day after tomorrow will be your wedding.
- Day after tomorrow! - Masha screamed, - my God! No, no, it’s impossible for this not to happen. Daddy, listen, if you have already decided to destroy me, then I will find a defender that you don’t even think about, you will see, you will be horrified at what you have brought me to.
- What? What? - said Troekurov, - threats! I'm being threatened, you impudent girl! But do you know that I will do to you what you cannot even imagine. You dare to frighten me with a defender. Let's see who this defender will be.
“Vladimir Dubrovsky,” Masha answered in despair.
Kirila Petrovich thought that she had gone crazy and looked at her in amazement.
“Okay,” he said to her, after some silence, “wait for whoever you want to be your deliverer, but for now, sit in this room, you won’t leave it until the wedding.” “With these words, Kirila Petrovich went out and locked the doors behind him.
The poor girl cried for a long time, imagining everything that awaited her, but the stormy explanation eased her soul, and she could talk more calmly about her fate and what she should have done. The main thing for her was: to get rid of the hated marriage; the fate of the robber's wife seemed like paradise to her in comparison with the lot prepared for her. She looked at the ring that Dubrovsky left her. She ardently wanted to see him alone and once again have a long consultation before the decisive moment. A premonition told her that in the evening she would find Dubrovsky in the garden near the gazebo; she decided to go and wait for him there as soon as it began to get dark. It got dark. Masha got ready, but her door was locked. The maid answered her from behind the door that Kirila Petrovich had not ordered her to be let out. She was under arrest. Deeply offended, she sat under the window and sat until late at night without undressing, motionless looking at the dark sky. At dawn she dozed off, but her thin sleep was disturbed by sad visions, and the rays of the rising sun had already awakened her.
Chapter XVII
She woke up, and with her first thought the full horror of her situation presented itself to her. She called, the girl came in and answered her questions that Kirila Petrovich went to Arbatovo in the evening and returned late, that he gave strict orders not to let her out of her room and to make sure that no one spoke to her, which, however, did not there are no special preparations for the wedding, except that the priest was ordered not to leave the village under any pretext. After this news, the girl left Marya Kirilovna and locked the doors again.
Her words embittered the young recluse, her head was boiling, her blood was agitated, she decided to let Dubrovsky know about everything and began to look for a way to send the ring to the hollow of the treasured oak tree; At that time, a pebble hit her window, the glass rang, and Marya Kirilovna looked at the yard and saw little Sasha making secret signs to her. She knew his affection and was glad to see him. She opened the window.
“Hello, Sasha,” she said, “why are you calling me?”
“I came, sister, to find out from you if you need anything.” Daddy is angry and has forbidden the whole house to listen to you, but tell me to do whatever you want, and I will do everything for you.
- Thank you, my dear Sashenka, listen: do you know the old oak tree with a hollow near the gazebo?
- I know, sister.
“So if you love me, run there quickly and put this ring in the hollow, and make sure that no one sees you.”
With that word, she threw the ring to him and locked the window.
The boy picked up the ring, started running at full speed and in three minutes found himself at the treasured tree. Here he stopped, out of breath, looked around in all directions and put the ring in the hollow. Having completed the matter successfully, he wanted to immediately inform Marya Kirilovna about this, when suddenly a red-haired and ragged boy with a sideways look flashed from behind the gazebo, rushed to the oak tree and put his hand into the hollow. Sasha rushed towards him faster than a squirrel and grabbed hold of him with both hands.
- What are you doing here? - he said menacingly.
- Do you care? - the boy answered, trying to free himself from him.
“Leave this ring, red hare,” shouted Sasha, “or I’ll teach you a lesson in my own way.”
Instead of answering, he hit him in the face with his fist, but Sasha did not let him go and shouted at the top of his lungs: “Thieves, thieves! here, here..."
The boy tried to get rid of him. He was apparently two years older than Sasha and much stronger, but Sasha was more evasive. They fought for several minutes, and finally the red-haired boy won. He knocked Sasha to the ground and grabbed him by the throat.
But at that time a strong hand grabbed his red and bristly hair, and the gardener Stepan lifted him half an arshin from the ground...
“Oh, you red-haired beast,” said the gardener, “how dare you beat the little master...
Sasha managed to jump up and recover.
“You caught me in a snare,” he said, “otherwise you would never have knocked me down.” Give me the ring now and get out.
“Why not,” answered the red-haired man and, suddenly turning over in one place, freed his stubble from Stepanova’s hand. Then he started to run, but Sasha caught up with him, pushed him in the back, and the boy fell as fast as he could. The gardener grabbed him again and tied him with a sash.
- Give me the ring! - Sasha shouted.
“Wait, master,” said Stepan, “we’ll take him to the clerk for punishment.”
The gardener led the prisoner to the master's courtyard, and Sasha accompanied him, looking with concern at his trousers, torn and stained with greenery. Suddenly all three found themselves in front of Kiril Petrovich, who was going to inspect his stable.
- What's this? – he asked Stepan. Stepan described the whole incident in short words. Kirila Petrovich listened to him with attention.
“You rake,” he said, turning to Sasha, “why did you contact him?”
“He stole a ring from the hollow, daddy, order him to give the ring back.”
– Which ring, from which hollow?
- Yes, Marya Kirilovna for me... yes, that ring...
Sasha was embarrassed, confused. Kirila Petrovich frowned and said, shaking his head:
- Marya Kirilovna got mixed up here. Confess everything, or I’ll beat you off with a rod so that you won’t even recognize your own people.
- By God, daddy, I, daddy... Marya Kirilovna didn’t order anything to me, daddy.
- Stepan, go and cut me a nice fresh birch rod...
- Wait, daddy, I’ll tell you everything. Today I was running around the yard, and my sister Marya Kirilovna opened the window, and I ran up, and my sister didn’t drop the ring on purpose, and I hid it in a hollow, and - and... this red-haired boy wanted to steal the ring...
“I didn’t drop it on purpose, but you wanted to hide it... Stepan, go get the rods.”
- Dad, wait, I’ll tell you everything. Sister Marya Kirilovna told me to run to the oak tree and put the ring in the hollow, I ran and put the ring, and this bad boy...
Kirila Petrovich turned to the nasty boy and asked him menacingly: “Whose are you?”
“I’m a servant of the Dubrovskys,” answered the red-haired boy.
Kiril Petrovich’s face darkened.
“It seems you don’t recognize me as master, good,” he answered. - What were you doing in my garden?
“I stole raspberries,” the boy answered with great indifference.
- Yeah, the master’s servant: as the priest is, so is the parish, but do raspberries grow on my oak trees?
The boy did not answer.
“Dad, order him to give him the ring,” said Sasha.
“Be quiet, Alexander,” answered Kirila Petrovich, “don’t forget that I’m going to deal with you.” Go to your room. You, oblique, you seem to me to be a big no-no. - Give me the ring and go home.
The boy unclenched his fist and showed that there was nothing in his hand.
“If you confess everything to me, I won’t flog you, I’ll give you another nickel for nuts.” Otherwise I will do something to you that you do not expect. Well!
The boy did not answer a word and stood with his head down and looked like a real fool.
“Okay,” said Kirila Petrovich, “lock him up somewhere and make sure he doesn’t run away, or I’ll skin the whole house.”
Stepan took the boy to the dovecote, locked him there and assigned the old henkeeper Agathia to watch him.
“Now go to the city for the police officer,” said Kirila Petrovich, following the boy with his eyes, “and as soon as possible.”
“There is no doubt about it. She maintained relations with the damned Dubrovsky. But was she really calling him for help? – thought Kirila Petrovich, pacing around the room and angrily whistling the Thunder of Victory. “Maybe I’ve finally found him in hot pursuit, and he won’t dodge us.” We will take advantage of this opportunity. Chu! the bell, thank God, it’s the police officer.”
- Hey, bring the boy who was caught here.
Meanwhile, the cart drove into the yard, and the police officer, already familiar to us, entered the room covered in dust.
“Glorious news,” Kirila Petrovich told him, “I caught Dubrovsky.”
“Thank God, Your Excellency,” said the police officer, looking delighted, “where is he?”
- That is, not Dubrovsky, but one of his gang. They'll bring him in now. He will help us catch the chieftain himself. So they brought him in.
The police officer, who was expecting a formidable robber, was amazed to see a 13-year-old boy of rather weak appearance. He turned to Kiril Petrovich in bewilderment and waited for an explanation. Kirila Petrovich immediately began to tell the morning incident, without, however, mentioning Marya Kirilovna.
The police officer listened to him with attention, constantly glancing at the little scoundrel, who, pretending to be a fool, seemed not to pay any attention to everything that was happening around him.
“Allow me, Your Excellency, to speak with you in private,” the police chief finally said.
Kirila Petrovich led him into another room and locked the door behind him.
Half an hour later they went out again into the hall, where the slave was awaiting the decision of his fate.
“The master wanted,” the police officer told him, “to put you in the city prison, flog you and then send you to a settlement, but I stood up for you and begged your forgiveness.” - Untie him.
The boy was untied.
“Thank the master,” said the police officer. The boy approached Kiril Petrovich and kissed his hand.
“Go home,” Kirila Petrovich told him, “but don’t steal raspberries from the hollows.”
The boy came out, cheerfully jumped off the porch and started running, without looking back, across the field to Kistenevka. Having reached the village, he stopped at a dilapidated hut, the first one on the edge, and knocked on the window; the window rose and the old woman appeared.
“Grandma, some bread,” said the boy, “I haven’t eaten anything since the morning, I’m dying of hunger.”
“Oh, it’s you, Mitya, where have you been, you little devil,” answered the old woman.
“I’ll tell you later, grandma, for God’s sake.”
- Yes, go into the hut.
“No time, grandma, I need to run to one more place.” Bread, for Christ's sake, bread.
“What a fidget,” the old woman grumbled, “here’s a slice for you,” and she thrust a hunk of black bread out the window. The boy bit it greedily and immediately moved on, chewing it.
It was starting to get dark. Mitya made his way through the barns and vegetable gardens into the Kistenevskaya Grove. Having reached two pines standing as the foremost guards of the grove, he stopped, looked around in all directions, whistled a piercing and abrupt whistle and began to listen; A light and prolonged whistle was heard in response to him, someone came out of the grove and approached him.
Chapter XVIII
Kirila Petrovich walked back and forth around the hall, whistling his song louder than usual; the whole house was in motion, the servants were running, the girls were fussing, the coachman was laying a carriage in the barn, people were crowding in the yard. In the young lady's dressing room in front of the mirror, a lady, surrounded by maids, was cleaning the pale, motionless Marya Kirilovna, her head bowed languidly under the weight of diamonds, she trembled slightly when a careless hand pricked her, but remained silent, looking senselessly in the mirror.
“Right now,” answered the lady. - Marya Kirilovna, stand up and look, is it okay?
Marya Kirilovna stood up and did not answer anything. The doors opened.
“The bride is ready,” the lady said to Kiril Petrovich, “order him to get into the carriage.”
“With God,” answered Kirila Petrovich and, taking the image from the table, “come to me, Masha,” he told her in a touched voice, “I bless you...” The poor girl fell at his feet and sobbed.
“Daddy... daddy...” she said in tears, and her voice died away. Kirila Petrovich hurried to bless her, they lifted her up and almost carried her into the carriage. The seated mother and one of the maids sat down with her. They went to church. The groom was already waiting for them there. He went out to meet the bride and was struck by her pallor and strange appearance. They entered the cold, empty church together; the doors were locked behind them. The priest came out of the altar and immediately began. Marya Kirilovna saw nothing, heard nothing, thought about one thing, from the very morning she was waiting for Dubrovsky, hope did not leave her for a minute, but when the priest turned to her with the usual questions, she shuddered and froze, but still hesitated, still waited ; the priest, without waiting for her answer, uttered irrevocable words.
The ceremony was over. She felt the cold kiss of her disliked husband, she heard the cheerful congratulations of those present and still could not believe that her life was forever shackled, that Dubrovsky had not flown to free her. The prince addressed her with affectionate words, she did not understand them, they left the church, peasants from Pokrovsky were crowding on the porch. Her gaze quickly ran over them and again showed her former insensibility. The young people got into the carriage together and went to Arbatovo; Kirila Petrovich had already gone there to meet the young people there. Alone with his young wife, the prince was not at all embarrassed by her cold appearance. He did not bother her with sugary explanations and funny delights; his words were simple and did not require answers. In this way they drove about ten miles, the horses rushed quickly over the bumps of the country road, and the carriage hardly swayed on its English springs. Suddenly, cries of pursuit were heard, the carriage stopped, a crowd of armed people surrounded it, and a man in a half mask, opening the doors on the side where the young princess was sitting, said to her: “You are free, get out.” “What does this mean,” the prince shouted, “who are you?..” “This is Dubrovsky,” said the princess.
The prince, without losing his presence of mind, took a traveling pistol from his side pocket and shot at the masked robber. The princess screamed and covered her face with both hands in horror. Dubrovsky was wounded in the shoulder, blood appeared. The prince, without wasting a minute, took out another pistol, but he was not given time to shoot, the doors opened, and several strong hands pulled him out of the carriage and snatched the pistol from him. Knives flashed above him.
- Don't touch him! - Dubrovsky shouted, and his gloomy accomplices retreated.
“You are free,” Dubrovsky continued, turning to the pale princess.
“No,” she answered. - It’s too late, I’m married, I’m the wife of Prince Vereisky.
“What are you saying,” Dubrovsky shouted in despair, “no, you are not his wife, you were forced, you could never agree...
“I agreed, I swore an oath,” she objected firmly, “my prince is my husband, order him to be released and leave me with him.” I didn't cheat. I waited for you until the last minute... But now, I tell you, it’s too late. Let us in.
But Dubrovsky no longer heard her, the pain of the wound and the strong unrest of his soul deprived him of his strength. He fell at the wheel, the robbers surrounded him. He managed to say a few words to them, they put him on horseback, two of them supported him, the third took the horse by the bridle, and everyone rode off to the side, leaving the carriage in the middle of the road, the people tied up, the horses harnessed, but without looting anything and without spilling a single drops of blood in revenge for the blood of his chieftain.
Chapter XIX
In the middle of a dense forest, on a narrow lawn, there stood a small earthen fortification, consisting of a rampart and a ditch, behind which there were several huts and dugouts.
In the courtyard, many people, who by the variety of clothes and general weapons could immediately be recognized as robbers, were having dinner, sitting without hats, near the brotherly cauldron. On the rampart, next to a small cannon, a guard sat with his legs tucked under him; he inserted a patch into some part of his clothing, wielding a needle with the skill that reveals an experienced tailor, and constantly looked in all directions.
Although a certain ladle passed from hand to hand several times, a strange silence reigned in this crowd; The robbers dined, one after the other got up and prayed to God, some went to their huts, while others scattered through the forest or lay down to sleep, according to Russian custom.
The guard finished his work, shook out his junk, admired the patch, pinned a needle to his sleeve, sat astride the cannon and sang at the top of his lungs a melancholy old song:
Don't make noise, mother green oak tree,
Don’t bother me, good fellow, from thinking.
At this time, the door of one of the huts opened, and an old woman in a white cap, neatly and primly dressed, appeared at the threshold. “It’s enough for you, Styopka,” she said angrily, “the master is sleeping, and you know how to bawler; You have neither conscience nor pity.” “It’s my fault, Yegorovna,” answered Styopka, “okay, I won’t do it again, let him, our father, rest and get better.” The old woman left, and Styopka began to pace along the shaft.
In the hut from which the old woman came out, behind the partition, the wounded Dubrovsky was lying on a camp bed. His pistols lay on the table in front of him, and his saber hung at his head. The dugout was covered and hung with rich carpets; in the corner there was a women's silver toilet and dressing table. Dubrovsky held an open book in his hand, but his eyes were closed. And the old woman, looking at him from behind the partition, could not know whether he had fallen asleep or was just thinking.
Suddenly Dubrovsky shuddered: there was alarm in the fortification, and Styopka stuck his head through the window towards him. “Father, Vladimir Andreevich,” he shouted, “our people are giving a sign, they are looking for us.” Dubrovsky jumped out of bed, grabbed a weapon and left the hut. The robbers crowded noisily in the courtyard; At his appearance there was deep silence. “Is everyone here?” – Dubrovsky asked. “Everyone except the watchmen,” they answered him. "In places!" - Dubrovsky shouted. And the robbers each took a certain place. At this time, three watchmen ran to the gate. Dubrovsky went to meet them. "What's happened?" - he asked them. “Soldiers are in the forest,” they answered, “surrounding us.” Dubrovsky ordered the gates to be locked and he himself went to inspect the cannon. Several voices were heard throughout the forest and began to approach; the robbers waited in silence. Suddenly three or four soldiers appeared from the forest and immediately retreated, letting their comrades know with their shots. “Prepare for battle,” said Dubrovsky, and there was a rustling sound between the robbers, and again everything became quiet. Then they heard the noise of an approaching team, weapons flashed between the trees, about one and a half hundred soldiers poured out of the forest and rushed to the rampart with a scream. Dubrovsky set the fuse, the shot was successful: one had his head blown off, two were wounded. There was confusion between the soldiers, but the officer rushed forward, the soldiers followed him and fled into the ditch; the robbers shot at them with rifles and pistols and began, with axes in their hands, to defend the rampart onto which the frenzied soldiers were climbing, leaving about twenty wounded comrades in the ditch. Hand-to-hand combat ensued, the soldiers were already on the ramparts, the robbers began to yield, but Dubrovsky, approaching the officer, put a pistol to his chest and fired, the officer fell backwards. Several soldiers picked him up and hurried to carry him into the forest, while others, having lost their leader, stopped. The emboldened robbers took advantage of this moment of bewilderment, crushed them, forced them into the ditch, the besiegers ran, the robbers rushed after them screaming. Victory was decided. Dubrovsky, relying on the complete frustration of the enemy, stopped his own and locked himself in the fortress, ordering the wounded to be picked up, doubling the guards and not ordering anyone to leave.
Recent incidents have drawn the government's attention to Dubrovsky's daring robberies. Information about his whereabouts was collected. A company of soldiers was sent to take him, dead or alive. They caught several people from his gang and learned from them that Dubrovsky was not among them. A few days after the battle, he gathered all his accomplices, announced to them that he intended to leave them forever, and advised them to change their lifestyle. “You have become rich under my command, each of you has the appearance with which you can safely get into some remote province and spend the rest of your life there in honest labor and abundance. But you are all swindlers and probably won’t want to give up your craft.” After this speech, he left them, taking one ** with him. Nobody knew where he went. At first they doubted the truth of this testimony: the commitment of the robbers to the ataman was known. It was believed that they were trying to save him. But the consequences justified them; menacing visits, fires and robberies stopped. The roads became clear. From other news they learned that Dubrovsky had fled abroad.
Chapter I
The rich and noble retired general Kirila Petrovich Troekurov lives on his Pokrovskoye estate. He is a strong and energetic man, but uneducated and tyrant. Troekurov has great connections; neighbors and provincial officials fawn on him.
Celebrations do not stop in Pokrovskoye; friends and acquaintances of the landowner constantly visit. Troekurov loves hunting and practical jokes, which are not always harmless. The only person he treats with respect is his neighbor, retired lieutenant Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky. He is poor and owns the small village of Kistenevka.
Once Dubrovsky and Troekurov served together. Both were widowed early. Andrei Gavrilovich’s son Vladimir serves in St. Petersburg, and Troekurov’s daughter Masha lives with her father in Pokrovskoye.
Kirila Petrovich shows off his kennel to the guests. Five hundred dogs live here in warmth and contentment. All the guests are delighted, only Dubrovsky frowns. He notices that dogs live better here than people. One of the hounds boldly answers the landowner that even some gentlemen are better off exchanging their poor little house for the local kennel. Troekurov was greatly amused by this trick.
In the morning, Kirila Petrovich receives a letter from Andrei Gavrilovich, in which he demands to hand over the daring huntsman in order to punish him at his discretion. Troyekurov is angry at this proposal: only he is free to punish his people. From this moment on, hostility breaks out between the neighbors.
Soon Dubrovsky catches Troekurov’s men in the act, who are cutting down forest on his land. Andrei Gavrilovich orders the violators to be flogged. Kirila Petrovich is furious and wants revenge.
Just at this time, assessor Shabashkin arrives at Pokrovskoye. Troekurov instructs him to take Kistenevka away from Dubrovsky for a generous reward. Shabashkin begins litigation. Soon Andrei Gavrilovich receives a summons to court and goes to the city.
Chapter II
Kirila Petrovich also appears in court. The village of Kistenevka, according to his statement, was acquired by Troekurov’s father, as evidenced by the deed of sale. Kirila Petrovich demands that the village be returned to him. According to Dubrovsky’s statement, Kistenevka was bought by his father from Troekurov’s father 70 years ago, but the deed of sale was burned in a fire. There is only a power of attorney to complete the purchase and many witnesses that the village has long been in the possession of his family.
The court rules that the power of attorney has long since expired, and Kistenevka now belongs to Troekurov. But Dubrovsky suddenly starts shouting that dogs have been brought to the church and throws an inkwell at the assessor. His mind is clouded from nervous tension. Troekurov's triumph is ruined. Andrei Gavrilovich is taken to Kistenevka, which no longer belongs to him.
Chapter III
Dubrovsky has become very weak and is unable to conduct business. Nanny Egorovna writes about this to his son in St. Petersburg.
Vladimir Dubrovsky at the age of eight was sent to the Cadet Corps, and then entered service in the Guards Infantry Regiment. He led a cheerful and wasteful life, as befits a young brilliant officer. Vladimir did not even suspect that his father was sending him almost the last of his money.
The letter makes Vladimir very upset. Three days later, having received leave, he goes to Kistenevka along with his servant Grisha. In his home he sees poverty and desolation. The old man is very bad and can barely stand on his feet.
Chapter IV
Vladimir is trying to understand all the nuances of the litigation, but among his father’s documents he does not find papers that would shed light on the state of affairs. He doesn't know that he needs to appeal. The deadline for filing it expires, and Shabashkin congratulates Troekurov on winning the case. But the landowner is still tormented by his conscience. He decides to make peace with his neighbor and return Kistenevka to him. With this noble intention, Troekurov goes to Dubrovsky.
Andrei Gavrilovich sits near the window and sees his enemy driving into the yard. Dubrovsky's face changes terribly, he cannot utter a word, he only hums, and then falls. Frightened Vladimir rushes to his father. At this time, a servant enters and announces that Troekurov has arrived. Dubrovsky Jr. tells him to get out and sends the servants for the doctor. The footman conveys the words of the young master to the arrogant master. Kirila Petrovich leaves Kistenevka in a rage.
Soon young Dubrovsky comes out onto the porch and announces that the doctor will no longer be needed. The old man died.
Chapter V
At Andrei Gavrilovich's funeral, all the peasants cry. After the funeral dinner, the judges arrive, and Shabashkin gives orders on behalf of Troekurov. The peasants are grumbling. They do not want to have Troekurov as their master; they have heard how badly he treats the serfs.
Vladimir is trying to rebuke the impudent Shabashkin. To this they answer him that Dubrovsky is now “nobody” here and should not interfere in matters. The peasants are increasingly dissatisfied and finally rush at the judges with the intention of tying them up.
Frightened Shabashkin hides in the house with his assistants. Vladimir asks the peasants to disperse, and they obey Dubrovsky. The judges, trembling with fear, stay overnight. They are afraid to go: what if the peasants attack them? Vladimir leaves them in the living room and locks himself in his father’s office.
Chapter VI
Young Dubrovsky sorts out the documents and thinks with bitterness that his parents’ house will go to the enemy. Troekurov’s lackey Shabashkin will be in charge of his rooms, and his parents’ things will be thrown into the trash. Dubrovsky decides that he will not leave the house to Troekurov.
Drunk judges are sleeping in the living room. Vladimir orders the servants to remove everyone from the house except uninvited guests. Then he instructs the blacksmith Arkhip to check if the door to the living room is closed. Dubrovsky does not want officials to get hurt. The blacksmith sees an open door and deliberately locks it.
Vladimir sets the house on fire and immediately leaves Kistenevka. The judges try to escape from the trap, but their efforts are in vain. Nobody rushes to their aid. At the same time, Arkhip, risking his life, saves a cat from a burning house. The fire spreads to the houses of the peasants. Soon all that remains of Kistenevka is ashes.
Chapter VII
News of the fire quickly spreads around the area. There are various rumors. Troekurov intends to conduct the investigation himself. It turns out that four judges burned to death, and young Dubrovsky, nanny Egorovna, servant Grishka, blacksmith Arkhip and coachman Anton disappeared without a trace.
Soon new rumors spread. Robber raids began in the surrounding area. Robbers appear in fast threes, attack officials and landowners, and burn estates. These outrages are attributed to Dubrovsky and his people.
The only thing the robbers don’t touch is Troekurov’s property. Kirila Petrovich attributes this to the “universal” fear that he inspires.
Chapter VIII
Troekurov loves his seventeen-year-old daughter Masha very much. Due to his character, he pampers her immensely, and sometimes severely punishes her. Therefore, Masha got used to hiding her thoughts and feelings from her father. Ten-year-old Sasha, Troekurov’s son from a former governess, is also being brought up in Pokrovskoye.
For the boy, Kirila Petrovich appoints a French tutor, Monsieur Deforge, who does not understand a word of Russian. Masha becomes his translator.
Troekurov loves to make fun of guests. His favorite joke is to put a man in the same room with a hungry bear, who was tied so that the animal could not reach only one corner. A few hours later the frightened guest was rescued.
Troekurov decides to play the same joke on the Frenchman. The servants push Deforge into the room with the bear and lock the door. The beast roars and rises on its hind legs, but the Frenchman does not retreat. He takes a small pistol out of his pocket, puts it in the bear's ear and shoots. Everyone in the house runs to the shot.
Troekurov looks in amazement at the cold-blooded Frenchman standing over the dead beast. After this incident, he treats Deforge with respect. The incident makes no less impression on Masha. She falls in love with a brave and proud tutor.
Volume two
Chapter IX
Troekurov is having a holiday, many guests are gathering. A latecomer enters - local landowner Anton Pafnutich Spitsyn. He explains his lateness by saying that he was afraid to drive through the Kistenevsky forest. Troekurov mocks the cowardly fat man Spitsyn, but Anton Pafnutich is sure that he is not in vain fearing an attack. After all, he testified in court against Dubrovsky’s father.
The landowner Globova says that she sent her son money with the clerk at the post office. On the way, he fell into the hands of Dubrovsky. The robber read the letter, returned the money and let him go, and the clerk then appropriated all the cash. One general, who happened to come for a visit, helped bring the liar out into the open.
Everyone is heatedly discussing the incident. The conversation turns to the bear, and Troekurov talks about Deforge’s heroic deed.
Chapter X
Around midnight, guests settle down for the night. Spitsyn is very excited. He is afraid for his considerable money, which is hidden on his chest under his shirt. Anton Pafnutich does not want to stay in the room alone and asks to spend the night with the Frenchman. Spitsyn was impressed by the story about the killed bear; he is sure that he will be calmer with a brave teacher.
The tutor brings Spitsyn to his room, where they go to bed. Anton Pafnutich wakes up at night, someone takes the bag off his chest. In horror, Spitsyn sees Deforge with a pistol and wants to scream. But he warns him in Russian to remain silent, otherwise he will die. “I am Dubrovsky,” Deforge calmly says.
Chapter XI
Describes an event that happened earlier. A poorly dressed foreigner sits in an inn and waits for the horses to be served. A young officer drives up and demands a fresh troika. He learns from the Frenchman that he is going to Troekurov to serve. The officer offers a lot of money for the teacher's papers, and advises the Frenchman to return to Paris. The foreigner easily agrees.
So Vladimir Dubrovsky gets the position of tutor in Troekurov’s house. Finding himself in the same room with his enemy at night, he cannot resist temptation. Spitsyn loses his savings.
In the morning, Anton Pafnutich, pale and trembling with horror, appears in the living room, where Deforge is already sitting calmly. Remaining silent from the owner's questions, Spitsyn hastily leaves Pokrovsky.
Chapter XII
Masha comes to a music lesson that Deforge gives her. The Frenchman gives the girl a note in which he asks to meet in the evening.
Masha comes to the date with trepidation. She is in love, but understands that the French tutor is not a match for her. Unexpectedly, Deforge admits that he is actually Dubrovsky. Vladimir wanted to take revenge on Troekurov. He got close to him, planning an attack on the estate, but the meeting with Masha confused all plans. Vladimir fell in love with the girl and refused revenge. Her father and her home are now sacred to the robber. Dubrovsky says goodbye to Masha. He makes the girl promise that she will turn to Vladimir for help if she finds herself in trouble.
Masha returns to the house, where she discovers the police officer. He came to arrest Deforge. Troekurov is unhappy. Kirila Petrovich does not believe Spitsyn’s statement that the Frenchman is actually Dubrovsky. Teachers can't be found anywhere. Finally, everyone understands that the tutor has disappeared.
Chapter XIII
Not far from Pokrovsky there is a rich estate of Prince Vereisky. The fifty-year-old prince comes from abroad and comes to Troekurov for lunch, where he meets Masha. The girl's beauty makes a great impression on Vereisky. He takes Troekurov’s word that Kirila Petrovich will come with Masha to visit him.
Two days later, the Troyekurovs pay a return visit to the prince. The wealth and strict order in Vereisky's possessions make a great impression on them. The prince turns out to be an interesting conversationalist and tries in every possible way to please Masha. He even sets off fireworks in her honor.
From this day on, the neighbors begin to communicate frequently. Troekurov considers Vereisky to be his equal, and the girl finds it easy and fun to be with him.
Chapter XIV
Masha is embroidering by the window. Suddenly, someone throws a letter onto her hoop. At this moment, a servant enters and announces that Masha’s father is calling. Having hidden the letter, the girl hurries to her parent’s office. Prince Vereisky is already sitting there. Troekurov announces that he has wooed Masha.
The girl is shocked, she cannot utter a word, she just bursts into tears. She doesn’t want to become the old prince’s wife at all. The dissatisfied father sends his daughter back to discuss the size of the dowry with Vereisky. Masha rushes to her room in despair. Suddenly she remembers the letter. In it, Dubrovsky makes an appointment with a girl in the garden.
Chapter XV
At the indicated time, Masha runs out into the garden, where Vladimir is already waiting for her. He knows about the prince's matchmaking and offers to get rid of him. Masha demands that Vladimir not touch Vereisky, she still will not marry the prince. Masha hopes to persuade her father to abandon this marriage.
Dubrovsky strongly doubts that Troekurov will listen to his daughter’s pleas. He gives Masha a ring. If her father refuses her, the girl needs to put the ring in a hollow oak tree, and then Vladimir will come for her. Masha promises: if the wedding with the prince becomes inevitable, she will call Dubrovsky for help.
Chapter XVI
Preparations for the wedding are underway in the house, but Masha can’t bring herself to talk to her father. She writes a letter to the prince asking him to give her up and not make her unhappy. Vereisky shows the letter to Troekurov. Kirila Petrovich is very angry, but the prince persuades him not to punish Masha, but only to speed up preparations for the wedding.
Troekurov comes to his daughter and reports that the celebration will take place in a day. Masha will fall at her father’s feet and beg him not to destroy her, but Kirila Petrovich does not want to listen to her daughter. Then the girl reports that she has a protector - Dubrovsky. Enraged, Troekurov locks his daughter in the room and promises that she will not leave until the wedding.
Chapter XVII
Masha is in a desperate situation. She cannot go into the garden to put the ring in the hollow. But then Sasha comes to the rescue and throws a pebble at the window. The girl asks her brother to take the ring to the hollow.
Sasha hurries to complete the assignment. But some red-haired boy snatches the ring from his hands. The guys fight for a long time, the gardener appears and separates the opponents. Unexpectedly, Troekurov himself appears at the scene of the fight.
Kirila Petrovich threatens Sasha with a flogging, and the boy is forced to tell everything. The redhead's ring is not found. It turns out that this is a yard boy from the Dubrovskys. Troekurov orders him to be locked up.
Kirila Petrovich and the police officer come up with a cunning plan: they will release the red-haired man and follow him. The boy himself will lead them to Dubrovsky. Having freed himself, the redhead runs into the Kistenevsky forest. At the edge of the forest, a boy whistles, and they answer him with a similar whistle.
Chapter XVIII
Pale, half-dead Masha sits in her room in front of the mirror. Maids are bustling around. The girl is dressed up for the crown. Troekurov enters. Masha falls at her father’s feet sobbing, but he blesses her to marry the prince. The girl is lifted and practically carried into the carriage.
The prince is already in the church. Masha waits until the last minute for Dubrovsky, who should free her, but Vladimir is still not there. The priest asks Masha if she agrees to become Vereisky’s wife? The girl is silent, but the church minister, not paying attention to this, continues the ritual.
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