Resurrection - Leo Tolstoy (me reader TXT) 📗

Law Courts, as juryman, and, in consequence, can on no account accompany us and Kólosoff to the picture gallery, as, with your habitual flightiness, you promised yesterday; à moins que vous ne soyez disposé à payer la cour d’assise les 300 roubles d’amende que vous vous refusez pour votre cheval, for not appearing in time. I remembered it last night after you were gone, so do not forget.

Princess M. Korchágin.”

On the other side was a postscript⁠—

“Maman vous fait dire que votre couvert vous attendra jusqu’à la nuit. Venez absolument à quelle heure que cela soit.

M. K.”

Nekhlúdoff made a grimace. This note was a continuation of that skilful manoeuvring which the Princess Korchágin had already practised for two months in order to bind him closer and closer with invisible threads. And yet, beside the usual hesitation of men past their youth to marry unless they are very much in love, Nekhlúdoff had very good reasons why, even if he did make up his mind to it, he could not propose at once. It was not that ten years previously he had seduced and forsaken Máslova; he had quite forgotten that, and he would not have considered it a reason for not marrying. No! The reason was that he had a liaison with a married woman, and, though he considered it broken off, she did not.

Nekhlúdoff was rather shy with women, and his very shyness awakened in this married woman, the unprincipled wife of the maréchal de noblesse of a district where Nekhlúdoff was present at an election, the desire of vanquishing him. This woman drew him into an intimacy which entangled him more and more, while it daily became more distasteful to him. Having succumbed to the temptation, Nekhlúdoff felt guilty, and had not the courage to break the tie without her consent. And this was the reason he did not feel at liberty to propose to Korchágin even if he had wished to do so. Among the letters on the table was one from this woman’s husband. Seeing his writing and the postmark, Nekhlúdoff flushed, and felt his energies awakening, as they always did when he was facing any kind of danger.

But his excitement passed at once. The maréchal de noblesse, of the district in which his largest estate lay, wrote only to let Nekhlúdoff know that there was to be a special meeting towards the end of May, and that Nekhlúdoff was to be sure and come to “donner un coup d’epaulé,” at the important debates concerning the schools and the roads, as a strong opposition by the reactionary party was expected.

The maréchal was a liberal, and was quite engrossed in this fight, not even noticing the misfortune that had befallen him.

Nekhlúdoff remembered the dreadful moments he had lived through; once when he thought that the husband had found him out and was going to challenge him, and he was making up his mind to fire into the air; also the terrible scene he had with her when she ran out into the park, and in her excitement tried to drown herself in the pond.

“Well, I cannot go now, and can do nothing until I get a reply from her,” thought Nekhlúdoff. A week ago he had written her a decisive letter, in which he acknowledged his guilt, and his readiness to atone for it; but at the same time he pronounced their relations to be at an end, for her own good, as he expressed it. To this letter he had as yet received no answer. This might prove a good sign, for if she did not agree to break off their relations, she would have written at once, or even come herself, as she had done before. Nekhlúdoff had heard that there was some officer who was paying her marked attention, and this tormented him by awakening jealousy, and at the same time encouraged him with the hope of escape from the deception that was oppressing him.

The other letter was from his steward. The steward wrote to tell him that a visit to his estates was necessary in order to enter into possession, and also to decide about the further management of his lands; whether it was to continue in the same way as when his mother was alive, or whether, as he had represented to the late lamented princess, and now advised the young prince, they had not better increase their stock and farm all the land now rented by the peasants themselves. The steward wrote that this would be a far more profitable way of managing the property; at the same time, he apologised for not having forwarded the 3,000 roubles income due on the 1st. This money would be sent on by the next mail. The reason for the delay was that he could not get the money out of the peasants, who had grown so untrustworthy that he had to appeal to the authorities. This letter was partly disagreeable, and partly pleasant. It was pleasant to feel that he had power over so large a property, and yet disagreeable, because Nekhlúdoff had been an enthusiastic admirer of Henry George and Herbert Spencer. Being himself heir to a large property, he was especially struck by the position taken up by Spencer in Social Statics, that justice forbids private landholding, and with the straightforward resoluteness of his age, had not merely spoken to prove that land could not be looked upon as private property, and written essays on that subject at the university, but had acted up to his convictions, and, considering it wrong to hold landed property, had given the small piece of land he had inherited from his father to the peasants. Inheriting his mother’s large estates, and thus becoming a landed proprietor, he had to choose one of two things: either to give up his property, as he had given