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Together they walked to the nearest corner, and stood awaiting the coming of a trolley-car, the heat of an August sun blazing upon them, the stifling odors of the tenement quarter filling their nostrils. Rude, half-naked little boys jeered at them, and made invidious remarks about Ivan's new clothes; a small girl smiled shyly at him; a wretched yellow dog snapped at his heels.
For, just as there are certain incidents or periods in our lives which, for no perceptible reason, stand out in our memory with marked vividness, so these last weeks of Ivan's were so fraught with nervous electricity that each smallest incident took on the importance of an event. And Ivan, considering, became gradually convinced that these were the last days of his life.
This man, a gentle, melancholy idealist, like so many of his race, had early taken a sincere liking for his young pupil, nor found, as the years passed, anything special to complain of in Ivan's performance of his tasks or his obedience during their many hours together. Of all, in short, who had to do with the young Prince, one person only, and that his father, felt any displeasure with him.
Perhaps, however, Ivan's jocular remark had more significance in it than his wife cared to admit, for during the first years of their married life they had seen very little of each other. A few days after the marriage, when according to our notions the honeymoon should be at its height, Ivan had gone to Moscow for several months, leaving his young bride to the care of his father and mother.
Above all things, de Windt was proud of Ivan's scrupulous morality, and the almost incredible chivalry with which he regarded all women. Few men attempted to fathom the extent of his innocence. But it was a fact that conversations of a certain type were instinctively stopped when this young fellow entered a room though it were the lounging-room of the notorious Yacht club itself.
Therefore the evening of October 10th found six men assembled round the samovar in the transformed living-room of Ivan's home.
Ivan's eyes looked one straight in the face, while Nicolas' shifted uneasily when he was observed closely. It was the difference in the eyes that told the difference between the two men better than anything else. Presently Nicolas stopped before an extremely large hut, built up close beside a giant rock. He stood aside and motioned the others to enter.
The old man replied: "You did not help to bring prosperity to our household. For what reason, then, should you now demand the third part of everything? It would be unjust to Ivan and his sister." "Yes," said Simeon; "but he is a fool, and she was born dumb. What need have they of anything?" "See what Ivan will say." Ivan's reply was: "Well, let him take his share."
And now these inarticulate prayers were fully answered: and Ivan's soul was writhing in rebellion at the injustice of that which had been put upon him: the malicious revenge of a scoundrelly officer who, for private reasons, had seen fit to punish him for an offence which was daily winked at by the entire army!
Ivan's new life was monotonous enough, uneventful enough, but singularly tranquil. The spring this year had brought not so much a quickening of life as a soothing sense of relief, relaxation, and a lazy contentment of mind. For the first time in years, Ivan felt absolutely at ease on the subject of money: knew no uncertainty as to future raiment, and food and shelter.
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