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Then Tyeglev told me that his parents had heard for several days before their death the sound of rushing water; that his grandfather had been saved from death in the battle of Borodino through suddenly stooping down to pick up a simple grey pebble at the very instant when a volley of grape-shot flew over his head and broke his long black plume.
Tyeglev even promised to show me the very pebble which had saved his grandfather and which he had mounted into a medallion. Then he talked of the lofty destination of every man and of his own in particular and added that he still believed in it and that if he ever had any doubts on that subject he would know how to be rid of them and of his life, as life would then lose all significance for him.
"But what the devil do you want with your uncle whom you never see except at the New Year when you go to congratulate him? Are you reckoning on his money? But he has got a dozen children of his own!" I spoke with heat.... Tyeglev winced and flushed ... flushed unevenly, in patches. "Don't lecture me, if you please," he said dully. "I don't justify myself, however.
I lay down, too, and before I fell asleep I remember I wondered why Tyeglev was always hinting at ... suicide. What nonsense! What humbug! Of his own free will he had refused to marry her, had cast her off ... and now he wanted to kill himself! There was no sense in it! He could not resist posing!
I went to bed rather early. I was awakened by a knocking under the window. It was my turn to be startled! The knock was repeated and so insistently distinct that one could have no doubt of its reality. I got up, opened the window and saw Tyeglev. Wrapped in his great-coat, with his cap pulled over his eyes, he stood motionless. "Ilya Stepanitch!" I cried, "is that you? I gave up expecting you.
She poisoned herself." Tyeglev hurriedly uttered these terrible words and still stood motionless as a stone. I clasped my hands. "Is it possible? How dreadful! Your presentiment has come true.... That is awful!" I stopped in confusion. Slowly and with a sort of triumph Tyeglev folded his arms. "But why are we standing here?" I began. "Let us go home." "Let us," said Tyeglev.
Napoleon died on May Ilya Tyeglev died on 5th, 1825. April 21st, 1834. 1825 1834 5 21 5* 7+ Total 1835 Total 1862 * May the 5th month + July the 7th month of the year. of the year. 1 1 8 8 3 6 5 23 Total 17! Total 17! Poor fellow! Was not this perhaps why he became an artillery officer? As a suicide he was buried outside the cemetery and he was immediately forgotten. "What Ilya?" I asked.
And a week afterwards I heard that the poor woman had really gone out of her mind. Since then I have become much more careful in my judgments and have had far less confidence in my own impressions. The story which Tyeglev told me was, briefly, as follows. He had living in Petersburg, besides his influential uncle, an aunt, not influential but wealthy.
I was in the kitchen garden. But nothing was stirring around me or before me. Everything seemed spellbound in the numbness of sleep. I went a few steps further. "Who is there?" I cried as wildly as Tyeglev had. "Prrr-r-r!" a startled corn-crake flew up almost under my feet and flew away as straight as a bullet. Involuntarily I started.... What foolishness! I looked back.
I tapped again ... this time on purpose. The same sound was repeated. I knocked again.... All at once Tyeglev raised his head. "Ridel!" he said, "do you hear? Someone is knocking under the window." I pretended to be asleep. The fancy suddenly took me to play a trick at the expense of my "fatal" friend. I could not sleep, anyway. He let his head sink on the pillow.
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