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Updated: May 15, 2025
He debauched the young sister of Feodor, and then shut her up in a convent. He banished seventy noble families who were accused of being the friends of Boris, and gave their estates and dignities to his Polish partisans. A party was soon organized against him, who busily circulated reports that he was an impostor, and a conspiracy was formed to take his life.
When they were told that Feodor was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded his decision. "Bravo! Petersburg is driving there. That is fine. We will all be there." The general made them stay for luncheon. Natacha appeared for the meal, in rather melancholy mood. A little before luncheon she had held a double conversation in the garden with Michael and Boris.
"I promise you that I will settle with her about her ransom, and give up beforehand all claim to my share!" The countenances of the Russian officers brightened up. They nodded and smiled toward him as they left the room. Count Feodor von Brenda was now alone with the veiled and insensible woman.
"And I, what ought I to believe?" muttered Feodor. "You have not told me yet. You did not know that man had relations with my enemies. You are innocent of that, perhaps. I wish to think so. I wish it, in the name of Heaven I wish it. But why did you receive him? Why? Why did you bring him in here, as a robber or as a..."
Feodor and Ermolai were deep in conversation about the Orel country. The young man did not disturb them. Then, soon, Matrena reappeared. He saw her come in quite radiant. He handed back her keys, and she took them mechanically. She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it. The general himself noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
In the mean time, his heart was dead to all the better and nobler feelings. But, at one time, it seemed as if a higher and more serious inclination promised permanently to enchain this dreaded rival of all husbands and lovers. Feodor von Brenda, the most blasé, witty, insolent cavalier at the court of his empress, became suddenly serious and silent.
How do you know beforehand that it is a woman?" Feodor pointed silently to the back part of the room. There stood the Cossacks, next to the litter, waiting in solemn silence to be noticed. "A woman! Yes, by Heavens! it is a woman," cried the officers. And, with boisterous laughter, they rushed toward the Cossacks. "And where did you pick her up?" asked Major von Fritsch.
Elise had no longer power to withstand him. She opened her arms, and threw them with passionate tenderness around his neck. "Feodor, love does not forgive, it loves," she cried with unspeakable rapture, and tears of delight burst from her eyes.
Remember it is night, and I am alone with you." "Yes, you are right," said Feodor sadly. "Hide me; no spot must tarnish your honor." With convulsive haste, Elise drew him to the door of her chamber. Gotzkowsky's voice was heard just outside the window. "Quick! hasten, they are coming!" said she, pulling the door open, and pushing him hurriedly on.
Thus appeared as he slept the excellent Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father of the family table, the friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats with knife and fork and of the bantering timber-merchant and amiable bear-hunter, the joyous Thaddeus and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful spouse of Matrena Petrovna and the adored papa of Natacha, a brave man who was so unfortunate as to have nights of cruel sleeplessness or dreams more frightful still.
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