Upon taking his pen in hand, he would pass hours in sketching crooked trees, little houses, peasants’ huts, telyégas, and troïkas, in a vacant-minded way. However, sometimes, when he had forgotten everything, the pen, of its own will and without its master’s knowledge, drew a little head with delicate features, with an alert penetrating glance, and a lock of hair turned back; and the master then, to his amazement, saw that this was the portrait of one whose portrait no artist even could have sketched. And then he became still more melancholy; and, believing that there is no such thing as happiness upon earth, he grew more bored and silent than before.
Such was the condition of Andrei Ivanovitch Tentyotnikoff’s soul. All at once, while he was one day walking to the window, pipe and cup in hand, after the usual order of things, he was stupefied not to hear either Grigoriy or Perfilievna, but he did perceive a bustle and some hurrying to and fro in the yard. The scullion and the floor-washer were hastening to open the gates, at which, indeed, some horses were visible, exactly like the horses which are carved or drawn on triumphal arches—a muzzle to the right, a muzzle to the left, and a muzzle in the middle. Above them, on the box, sat a coachman, and a footman in voluminous surtouts. Behind them sat a gentleman in a leather-peaked cap and a cloak, with a scarf of rainbow hues around his neck. When the equipage drew up before the porch with a sweep, it became apparent that it was nothing less than a light britchka on springs. The gentleman, who possessed an extremely pleasing exterior, sprang out of it, with almost the alertness and agility of a military man.
Andrei Ivanovitch was struck with terror. He took the visitor for an official from the courts of justice. It must be stated that, in his youth, he had become entangled in a piece of folly. Two philosophers belonging to the hussars, who instead of completing their course in æsthetics, had ruined themselves as gamblers, had got up some philanthropical society or other, under the chief superintendence of an old mason, a rascal who was also a gambler, but at the same time a very eloquent man. This society was organised with extensive views—to procure lasting happiness for everyone, from the banks of the Thames to Kamtchatka. A vast amount of money was required, and contributions were collected among the generous members. Where all this money went to, no one knew, excepting the manager-in-chief. He had inveigled into the company two friends, embittered men who had originally been decent fellows, but who had been transformed into regular drunkards by dint of drinking toasts in the honour of science, culture, and the coming responsibilities of mankind. Tentyotnikoff soon recovered his senses and freed himself from this circle. But the society had already succeeded in entangling him in some operations of a character not exactly suited to a nobleman, so that an affair with the police ensued. Thus, it is not surprising that, although he had left the capital, and broken off all connection with the society, he did not feel quite at ease. His conscience was not quite clear, and indeed it was with some alarm that he now gazed at the door as it opened.
However, his terror vanished at once when his visitor, after bowing with incredible skill, somewhat on one side, but keeping his head in a respectful position, explained, in soft but decisive words, that he had recently been traversing Russia, impelled by both business and curiosity; that the empire abounded in noteworthy objects, not to mention the abundance of trades and the variety of soils to be found; that he had been attracted by the picturesque situation of the village, but that he should not have ventured to intrude, if, in consequence of the spring floods and the bad roads, his equipage had not sustained an unexpected fracture, which required the intervention of a blacksmith and some artisans. However, he added that, even if no accident had happened to his britchka, he could not have denied himself the pleasure of personally presenting his respects.
On finishing this speech, the guest, with bewitching suavity, gave a scrape of his foot, which was shod in an elegant varnished shoe, fastened with mother-of-pearl buttons, and, notwithstanding his corpulence, he sprang backwards with the lightness of an india-rubber ball.
Andrei Ivanovitch felt re-assured, and concluded that this must be some inquisitive professor, who was travelling through Russia for the purpose of collecting some plants or other, or possibly fossils. He immediately expressed his readiness to render every assistance in his power; he offered the services of his artisans, his wheelwrights and blacksmiths; he requested the stranger to dispose of everything as though he were