Of the ladies belonging to the regiment who were invited were Mrs. Andrusevich—a little, fat, podgy, simple, laughing woman, very much addicted to doubtful anecdotes—and, lastly, the really pretty, but gossiping and lisping, Misses Lykatschev.
As is always the case at military parties, the ladies formed a circle by themselves.
Quite near them, and sitting by himself, Staff-Captain Ditz, the coxcomb, was lolling indolently in an easy chair.
This officer, who, with his tight-laced figure and aristocratic looks, strongly reminded one of the well-known Fliegende Blatter type of lieutenants, had been cashiered from the Guards on account of some mysterious, scandalous story.
He distinguished himself by his unfailing ironical confidence in his intercourse with men, and his audacious boldness with women, and he pursued, carefully and very lucratively, card-playing on a big scale, not, however, in the mess-room, but in the Townsmen’s Club, with the civilian officials of the place, as well as with the Polish landowners in the neighbourhood.
Nobody in the regiment liked him, but he was feared, and all felt within themselves a certain rough conviction that some day a terrible, dirty scandal would bring Ditz’s military career to an abrupt conclusion.
It was reported that he had a liaison with the young wife of an old, retired Staff-Captain who lived in the town, and also that he was very friendly with Madame Taliman.
It was also purely for her sake he was invited to officers’ families, according to the curious conceptions of good tone and good breeding that still hold sway in military circles.
“Delighted—delighted!” was Nikolaiev’s greeting as he went up to Romashov.
“Why didn’t you come this morning and taste our pasty?”
Nikolaiev uttered all this in a very jovial and friendly tone, but in his voice and glance Romashov noticed the same cold, artificial, and harsh expression which he had felt almost unconsciously lately.
“He does not like me,” thought Romashov.
“But what is the matter with him?
Is he angry—or jealous, or have I bored him to death?”
“As you perhaps are aware, we had inspection of rifles in our company this morning,” lied Romashov boldly.
“When the Great Inspection approaches, one is never free either Sundays or week-days, you know. However, may I candidly admit that I am a trifle embarrassed? I did not know in the least that you were giving a picnic. I invited myself, so to speak.
And truly, I feel some qualms——”
Nikolaiev smiled broadly, and clapped Romashov on the shoulder with almost insulting familiarity.
“How you talk, my friend! The more the merrier, and we don’t want any Chinese ceremonies here.
But there is one awkward thing—I mean, will there be sufficient carriages?
But we shall be able to manage something.”
“I brought my own trap,” said Romashov, to calm him, whilst he, quite unnoticeably, released his shoulder from Nikolaiev’s caressing hand, “and I shall be very pleased to put it at your service.”
Romashov turned round and met Shurochka’s eye.
“Thank you, my dear,” said her ardent, curiously intent look.
“How strange she is to-day,” thought Romashov.
“That’s capital!”
Nikolaiev looked at his watch.
“What do you say, gentlemen; shall we start?”
“‘Let us start,’ said the parrot when the cat dragged it out of its cage by the tail,” said Olisar jokingly.
All got up, noisy and laughing. The ladies went in search of their hats and parasols, and began to put on their gloves. Taliman, who suffered from bronchitis, croaked and screamed that, above everything, the company should wrap up well; but his voice was drowned in the noise and confusion.
Little Michin took Romashov aside and said to him—
“Yuri Alexievich, I have a favour to ask you.
Let my sisters ride in your carriage, otherwise Ditz will come and force his society on them—a thing I would prevent at any price.
He is in the habit of conversing with young girls in such a way that they can hardly restrain their tears of shame and indignation.
I am not, God knows! a man fond of violence, but some day I shall give that scoundrel what he deserves.”
Romashov would naturally have much liked to ride with Shurochka, but Michin had always been his friend, and it was impossible to withstand the imploring look of those clear, true-hearted eyes. Besides, Romashov was so full of joy at that moment that he could not refuse.
At last, after much noise and fun, they were all seated in the carriages.
Romashov had kept his word, and sat stowed away between the two Michin girls.
Only Staff-Captain Lieschtschenko, whose presence Romashov now noticed for the first time, kept wandering here and there among the carriages with a countenance more doleful and woebegone than ever. All avoided him like the plague.
At last Romashov took pity and called to him, and offered him a place on the box-seat of his trap.
The Staff-Captain thankfully accepted the invitation, fixed on Romashov a long, grateful look from sad, moist dog’s eyes, and climbed up with a sigh to the box.
They started.
At their head rode Olisar on his lazy old horse, repeatedly performing clown tricks, and bawling out a hackneyed operetta air:
“Up on the roof of the omnibus,” etc.
“Quick—march!” rang Osadchi’s stentorian voice.
The cavalcade increased its pace, and was gradually lost sight of amidst the dust of the high road.
XIII
THE picnic gave no promise of being anything like so pleasant and cheerful as one might have expected from the party’s high spirits at the start.
After driving three versts, they halted and got out at Dubetschnaia.
By this name was designated a piece of ground hardly fifteen dessyatins in extent, which, sparsely covered with proud, century-old oaks, slowly slanted down towards the strand of a little river.