Part 73 (2/2)
Pushkin accompanied his guests to their sledges, then returned to Chevalier Galban.
”Well, how did your game go with my little one?”
”I was thoroughly thrashed. She played with me like a cat with a mouse.
From whom did she learn to play such a capital game?”
”What, chess? Our dear Sophie Narishkin was her teacher. They used to play together every day.”
But that was not the case. It was not Sophie, but Zeneida, who had taught the ”little one” this game. This time it had been the mouse playing with the cat to her heart's content.
CHAPTER XLIX
THE ANTIDOTE
Lovely, sunny December days followed on the past arctic weather, with its snow-storms. Chevalier Galban returned home, having received a promise from Pushkin to make him a return visit very soon. Post traffic was resumed; that is, communication by means of sledging was once more practicable.
The official newspaper outdid itself in dulness. But at the end of the so-called news of the day was an announcement to the effect that ”_on December 26th Fraulein Ilmarinen would sing in the Imperial Exchange for the benefit of the Orphanage_!”
The concert was announced eight days in advance, in order that all who desired to attend should have due notice.
Pleskow to St. Petersburg is two good days' journey. Allowing for the time for post to reach, Pushkin had six days' notice.
Bethsaba, too, read the announcement, and said:
”Oh dear! How I should like to be there, to hear my dear Zeneida sing!”
Her heart was filled with dread. She, too, knew full well--Zeneida had told her--what this concert and this singing heralded.
From that moment Pushkin was utterly changed--morose, melancholy.
Bethsaba read in his face as in an open book. Had she not had the key to the hieroglyphics from Zeneida? She knew exactly what Pushkin was brooding over; she knew perfectly well that ”Eleutheria” was the name of his old love. And she concentrated all her love upon him to hold him fast.
Was it such an unheard-of thing for men, renowned statesmen, to forget, in their domestic happiness, an appointment they had made with friend or enemy on the battle-field? How often it had happened that great men, when once they had learned to know ”the little world of love,” had been fain to think how good it was to be ”little” men! What happy people Lilliputians must be!
Vain endeavor!
For two whole days Pushkin fought with himself; then told Bethsaba that he must leave home on December 24th.
Bethsaba never asked whither, nor for how long; she only said, ”And you are not taking me with you?”
”No, love. It would be impossible for you to travel in this cold weather; the roads are so bad.”
”But not too bad for you! Can you not put off this journey?”
”Impossible!” returned Pushkin, irritably.
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