The first moments of expectation were oppressive, almost terrible.
I had made up my mind to everything. I only debated how to act; whether to thunder,
'Where goest thou?
Stand! show thyself—or death!' or simply to strike….
Every sound, every whisper and rustle, seemed to me portentous and extraordinary….
I prepared myself….
I bent forward….
But half-an-hour passed, an hour passed; my blood had grown quieter, colder; the consciousness that I was doing all this for nothing, that I was even a little absurd, that Malevsky had been making fun of me, began to steal over me.
I left my ambush, and walked all about the garden.
As if to taunt me, there was not the smallest sound to be heard anywhere; everything was at rest. Even our dog was asleep, curled up into a ball at the gate.
I climbed up into the ruins of the greenhouse, saw the open country far away before me, recalled my meeting with Zinaida, and fell to dreaming….
I started….
I fancied I heard the creak of a door opening, then the faint crack of a broken twig.
In two bounds I got down from the ruin, and stood still, all aghast.
Rapid, light, but cautious footsteps sounded distinctly in the garden.
They were approaching me.
'Here he is … here he is, at last!' flashed through my heart.
With spasmodic haste, I pulled the knife out of my pocket; with spasmodic haste, I opened it. Flashes of red were whirling before my eyes; my hair stood up on my head in my fear and fury….
The steps were coming straight towards me; I bent—I craned forward to meet him….
A man came into view…. My God! it was my father!
I recognised him at once, though he was all muffled up in a dark cloak, and his hat was pulled down over his face.
On tip-toe he walked by.
He did not notice me, though nothing concealed me; but I was so huddled up and shrunk together that I fancy I was almost on the level of the ground.
The jealous Othello, ready for murder, was suddenly transformed into a school-boy….
I was so taken aback by my father's unexpected appearance that for the first moment I did not notice where he had come from or in what direction he disappeared.
I only drew myself up, and thought,
'Why is it my father is walking about in the garden at night?' when everything was still again.
In my horror I had dropped my knife in the grass, but I did not even attempt to look for it; I was very much ashamed of myself.
I was completely sobered at once.
On my way to the house, however, I went up to my seat under the elder-tree, and looked up at Zinaida's window.
The small slightly-convex panes of the window shone dimly blue in the faint light thrown on them by the night sky.
All at once—their colour began to change….
Behind them—I saw this, saw it distinctly—softly and cautiously a white blind was let down, let down right to the window-frame, and so stayed.
'What is that for?' I said aloud almost involuntarily when I found myself once more in my room. 'A dream, a chance, or …' The suppositions which suddenly rushed into my head were so new and strange that I did not dare to entertain them.
XVIII
I got up in the morning with a headache.
My emotion of the previous day had vanished.
It was replaced by a dreary sense of blankness and a sort of sadness I had not known till then, as though something had died in me.
'Why is it you're looking like a rabbit with half its brain removed?' said Lushin on meeting me.
At lunch I stole a look first at my father, then at my mother: he was composed, as usual; she was, as usual, secretly irritated.
I waited to see whether my father would make some friendly remarks to me, as he sometimes did….
But he did not even bestow his everyday cold greeting upon me.
'Shall I tell Zinaida all?' I wondered…. 'It's all the same, anyway; all is at an end between us.'
I went to see her, but told her nothing, and, indeed, I could not even have managed to get a talk with her if I had wanted to.
The old princess's son, a cadet of twelve years old, had come from Petersburg for his holidays; Zinaida at once handed her brother over to me.
'Here,' she said,' my dear Volodya,'—it was the first time she had used this pet-name to me—'is a companion for you.
His name is Volodya, too.
Please, like him; he is still shy, but he has a good heart.
Show him Neskutchny gardens, go walks with him, take him under your protection.
You'll do that, won't you? you're so good, too!'