"Was it your servant found them?"
Emilie frowned.
"What servant? We haven"t any servant."
"Some other man, then?"
"No men come to see us."
"But excuse me, excuse me.... I saw the cuff of a man"s coat or jacket. And, besides, this cap...."
"Men never, never come to see us," Emilie repeated emphatically. "What did you see? You saw nothing! And that cap is mine."
"How is that?"
"Why, just that. I wear it for dressing up.... Yes, it is mine, _und Punctum_."
"Who brought you the bundle, then?"
Emilie made no answer and, pouting, followed Madame Fritsche out of the room. Ten minutes later she came back alone, without her aunt and when Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch tried to question her again, she gazed at his forehead, said that it was disgraceful for a gentleman to be so inquisitive (as she said this, her face changed a little, as it were, darkened), and taking a pack of old cards from the card table drawer, asked him to tell fortunes for her and the king of hearts.
Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch laughed, took the cards, and all evil thoughts immediately slipped out of his mind.
But they came back to him that very day. When he had got out of the gate into the street, had said good-bye to Emilie, shouted to her for the last time, _"Adieu, Zuckerpuppchen!"_ a short man darted by him and turning for a minute in his direction (it was past midnight but the moon was shining rather brightly), displayed a lean gipsy face with thick black eyebrows and moustache, black eyes and a hooked nose.
The man at once rushed round the corner and it struck Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch that he recognised--not his face, for he had never seen it before--but the cuff of his sleeve. Three silver b.u.t.tons gleamed distinctly in the moonlight. There was a stir of uneasy perplexity in the soul of the prudent lieutenant; when he got home he did not light as usual his meerschaum pipe. Though, indeed, his sudden acquaintance with charming Emilie and the agreeable hours spent in her company would alone have induced his agitation.
X
Whatever Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch"s apprehensions may have been, they were quickly dissipated and left no trace. He took to visiting the two ladies from Riga frequently. The susceptible lieutenant was soon on friendly terms with Emilie. At first he was ashamed of the acquaintance and concealed his visits; later on he got over being ashamed and no longer concealed his visits; it ended by his being more eager to spend his time with his new friends than with anyone and greatly preferring their society to the cheerless solitude of his own four walls. Madame Fritsche herself no longer made the same unpleasant impression upon him, though she still treated him morosely and ungraciously. Persons in straitened circ.u.mstances like Madame Fritsche particularly appreciate a liberal expenditure in their visitors, and Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch was a little stingy and his presents for the most part took the shape of raisins, walnuts, cakes.... Only once he let himself go and presented Emilie with a light pink fichu of real French material, and that very day she had burnt a hole in his gift with a candle. He began to upbraid her; she fixed the fichu to the cat"s tail; he was angry; she laughed in his face. Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch was forced at last to admit to himself that he had not only failed to win the respect of the ladies from Riga, but had even failed to gain their confidence: he was never admitted at once, without preliminary scrutinising; he was often kept waiting; sometimes he was sent away without the slightest ceremony and when they wanted to conceal something from him they would converse in German in his presence.
Emilie gave him no account of her doings and replied to his questions in an offhand way as though she had not heard them; and, worst of all, some of the rooms in Madame Fritsche"s house, which was a fairly large one, though it looked like a hovel from the street, were never opened to him. For all that, Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch did not give up his visits; on the contrary, he paid them more and more frequently: he was seeing living people, anyway. His vanity was gratified by Emilie"s continuing to call him Florestan, considering him exceptionally handsome and declaring that he had eyes like a bird of paradise, "_wie die Augen eines Paradiesvogels!_"
XI
One day in the very height of summer, Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch, who had spent the whole morning in the sun with contractors and workmen, dragged himself tired and exhausted to the little gate that had become so familiar to him. He knocked and was admitted. He shambled into the so-called drawing-room and immediately lay down on the sofa. Emilie went up to him and mopped his wet brow with a handkerchief.
"How tired he is, poor pet! How hot he is!" she said commiseratingly.
"Good gracious! You might at least unb.u.t.ton your collar. My goodness, how your throat is pulsing!"
"I am done up, my dear," groaned Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch. "I"ve been on my feet all the morning, in the baking sun. It"s awful! I meant to go home. But there those vipers, the contractors, would find me! While here with you it is cool.... I believe I could have a nap."
"Well, why not? Go to sleep, my little chick; no one will disturb you here." ...
"But I am really ashamed."
"What next! Why ashamed? Go to sleep. And I"ll sing you ... what do you call it? ... I"ll sing you to bye-bye, _"Schlaf, mein Kindchen, Schlafe!"_" She began singing.
"I should like a drink of water first."
"Here is a gla.s.s of water for you. Fresh as crystal! Wait, I"ll put a pillow under your head.... And here is this to keep the flies off."
She covered his face with a handkerchief.
"Thank you, my little cupid.... I"ll just have a tiny doze ... that"s all."
Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately.
"_Schlaf, mein Kindchen, schlafe_," sang Emilie, swaying from side to side and softly laughing at her song and her movements.
"What a big baby I have got!" she thought. "A boy!"
XII
An hour and a half later the lieutenant awoke. He fancied in his sleep that someone touched him, bent over him, breathed over him. He fumbled, and pulled off the kerchief. Emilie was on her knees close beside him; the expression of her face struck him as queer. She jumped up at once, walked away to the window and put something away in her pocket.
Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch stretched.
"I"ve had a good long snooze, it seems!" he observed, yawning. "Come here, _meine zusse Fraulein_!"
Emilie went up to him. He sat up quickly, thrust his hand into her pocket and took out a small pair of scissors.
"_Ach, Herr Je_!" Emilie could not help exclaiming.
"It"s ... it"s a pair of scissors?" muttered Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch.
"Why, of course. What did you think it was ... a pistol? Oh, how funny you look! You"re as rumpled as a pillow and your hair is all standing up at the back.... And he doesn"t laugh.... Oh, oh! And his eyes are puffy.... Oh!"
Emilie went off into a giggle.
"Come, that"s enough," muttered Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch, and he got up from the sofa. "That"s enough giggling about nothing. If you can"t think of anything more sensible, I"ll go home.... I"ll go home," he repeated, seeing that she was still laughing.
Emilie subsided.
"Come, stay; I won"t.... Only you must brush your hair."
"No, never mind.... Don"t trouble. I"d better go," said Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch, and he took up his cap.
Emilie pouted.
"Fie, how cross he is! A regular Russian! All Russians are cross. Now he is going. Fie! Yesterday he promised me five roubles and today he gives me nothing and goes away."
"I haven"t any money on me," Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch muttered grumpily in the doorway. "Good-bye."
Emilie looked after him and shook her finger.
"No money! Do you hear, do you hear what he says? Oh, what deceivers these Russians are! But wait a bit, you pug.... Auntie, come here, I have something to tell you."
That evening as Kuzma Va.s.silyevitch was undressing to go to bed, he noticed that the upper edge of his leather belt had come unsewn for about three inches. Like a careful man he at once procured a needle and thread, waxed the thread and st.i.tched up the hole himself. He paid, however, no attention to this apparently trivial circ.u.mstance.
XIII