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Updated: May 12, 2025
"You might at least take the dog with you as a souvenir," cried one of the officers. But Tyeglev merely waved his hand, and his comrades looked at each other in silent amazement. The second incident occurred a few days later, at a card party at the battery commander's. Tyeglev sat in the corner and took no part in the play.
But instead of Tyeglev I saw another officer of the same battery, whose name was Tyelepnev. "Was it you answered me?" I asked him. "Was it you calling me?" he asked in his turn. "No; I was calling Tyeglev." "Tyeglev? Why, I met him a minute ago. What a fool of a night! One can't find the way home." "You saw Tyeglev? Which way did he go?"
No one of his fellow officers expected that Tyeglev would make a career or distinguish himself in any way; but that Tyeglev might do something extraordinary or that Tyeglev might become a Napoleon was not considered impossible. For that is a matter of a man's "star" and he was regarded as a "man of destiny," just as there are "men of sighs" and "of tears."
Tyeglev jumped out of bed, opened the window and thrusting out his head, cried wildly, "Who is there? Who is knocking?" Then he opened the door and repeated his question. A horse neighed in the distance that was all. He went back towards his bed. "Knock ... knock ... knock!" Tyeglev instantly turned round and sat down. "Knock ... knock ... knock!"
"I was called!" he brought out at last in a low voice and turned away his face. "You were called? Who called you?" "Someone...." Tyeglev still looked away. "A woman whom I had hitherto only believed to be dead ... but now I know it for certain." "I swear, Ilya Stepanitch," I cried, "this is all your imagination!" "Imagination?" he repeated. "Would you like to hear it for yourself?" "Yes."
I was beginning to despair of finding you. Aren't you ashamed of frightening me like this? Upon my word, Ilya Stepanitch!" "What do you want of me?" repeated Tyeglev. "I want ... I want you, in the first place, to come back home with me. And secondly, I want, I insist, I insist as a friend, that you explain to me at once the meaning of your actions and of this letter to the colonel.
"Where are you going? Have you only just come? And what is the letter?" "Do you promise to deliver it?" said Tyeglev, and moved away a few steps further. The fog blurred the outlines of his figure. "Do you promise?" "I promise ... but first " Tyeglev moved still further away and became a long dark blur. "Good-bye," I heard his voice.
"I am certain that she has put an end to her life and ... and that it was her voice, that it was she calling me ... to follow her there ... I recognised her voice.... Well, there is but one end to it." "But why didn't you marry her, Ilya Stepanitch?" I asked. "You ceased to love her?" "No; I still love her passionately." At this point I stared at Tyeglev.
But it was not owing to this reputation that I made friends with Tyeglev and, I may say, grew fond of him. I liked him in the first place because I was rather an unsociable creature myself and saw in him one of my own sort, and secondly, because he was a very good-natured fellow and in reality, very simple-hearted.
"That way, I fancy," said the officer, waving his hand in the air. "But one can't be sure of anything now. Do you know, for instance, where the village is? The only hope is the dogs barking. It is a fool of a night! Let me light a cigarette ... it will seem like a light on the way." The officer was, so I fancied, a little exhilarated. "Did Tyeglev say anything to you?" I asked.
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