A Hero of Our Time - Mikhail IUr'evich Lermontov [19]
“And the father?”
“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Kazbich didn’t find him—he had gone off somewhere for six days, otherwise how could Azamat have managed to make off with his sister?
“And when the father returned, there was no daughter. And there was no son—the cunning boy, it seems he figured out that he would lose his head if he were caught. So he left: and probably, attached himself to some band of abreks. He has laid his head down on the other side of the Terek or the Kuban—and it serves him right!
“I admit that I saw a fair amount of trouble for it too. As soon as I learned that the Circassian girl was with Grigory Alexandrovich, I donned my epaulets and sword, and I went to him.
“He was lying in the front room on a bed, with one arm behind his head, and the other holding an extinguished pipe. The door to the second room was locked, and the key to its lock was missing. I saw all this immediately . . . I started to cough, and to tap my heels at the threshold—but he pretended he hadn’t heard.
“‘Ensign, sir!’ I said as sternly as I could. ‘Can you not see that you have a visitor?’
“‘Ah, greetings, Maxim Maximych! Would you like a pipe?’ he replied, not rising even slightly.
“‘Excuse me! I am not Maxim Maximych: I am the staff captain.’
“‘All the same. Would you like some tea? If you only knew what worries are troubling me!’
“‘I know everything,’ I said, having walked up to the bed.
“‘All the better: I don’t have it in me to recount it.’
“‘Ensign, sir, you have committed a misdemeanor, for which I too may have to answer . . .’
“‘Come, come! What is the matter? It would seem that we have long split everything in half.’
“‘How could you make such jokes? Your sword, if you please!’
“‘Mitka, my sword!’
“Mitka brought the sword. Having fulfilled my duty, I sat down on his bed and said: ‘Listen Grigory Alexandrovich, admit that it was a bad thing you did.’
“‘What was a bad thing?’
“‘That you took Bela . . . And as for that rogue Azamat! . . . Come on, admit it,’ I said.
“‘And what if I like her?’
“Well, what would you have liked me to reply to that? . . . I was at a dead end. However, after a certain length of silence I said to him that if her father started to ask for her, then he’d have to give her back!
“‘Totally unnecessary!’
“‘And if he finds out she’s here?’
“‘How will he find out?’
“I was again faced with a dead-end.
“‘Listen, Maxim Maximych!’ said Pechorin, lifting himself up a little. ‘You’re a kind fellow, so consider: if we return the savage’s daughter to him, he will murder her or sell her. The deed is done, and there’s no need to ruin things further—leave her with me, and you can keep my sword . . .’
“‘Well, show her to me,’ I said.
“‘She is behind that door. But just now, I myself tried in vain to see her—she is sitting in the corner, wrapped in a shawl. She isn’t talking, isn’t looking up—as frightened as a wild chamois. I’ve engaged our lady-innkeeper; she knows Tatar, she will take care of her and will train her to accept the thought that she is mine, because she isn’t going to belong to anyone except me,’ he added, banging his fist on the table. And I agreed to that too . . . What else could I do? There are people with whom one must absolutely agree.”
“And then?” I asked Maxim Maximych. “Did he really train her to be his or did she wither away in her unwillingness, out of longing for her motherland?”
“For pity’s sake, why would she long for her motherland? The same hills are visible from the fortress as from the aul—these savages need nothing more than that. And furthermore, every day Grigory