Marya Kirilovna eagerly availed herself of the permission to leave. She ran to her room, locked herself in, and gave free rein to her tears, imagining herself the old prince’s wife. He suddenly seemed repulsive and hateful to her…Marriage frightened her like the scaffold, the grave…“No, no,” she repeated in despair, “better to die, better to enter a convent, better to marry Dubrovsky.” Here she remembered about the letter and eagerly hastened to read it, having a presentiment that it was from him. In fact it was written by him and contained only the following words:
“This evening at ten o’clock in the same place.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The moon shone, the July night was quiet, a breeze arose now and then and sent a light rustling through the whole garden.
Like a light shadow, the young beauty approached the place of the appointed meeting. There was nobody to be seen. Suddenly, from behind the gazebo, Dubrovsky emerged before her.
“I know everything,” he said in a soft and sad voice. “Remember your promise.”
“You offer me your protection,” Masha replied. “Don’t be angry, but it frightens me. In what way can you be of help to me?”
“I can rid you of the hateful man.”
“For God’s sake, don’t touch him, don’t you dare touch him, if you love me. I don’t want to be the cause of some horror…”
“I won’t touch him, your will is sacred to me. He owes you his life. Never will villainy be committed in your name. You must be pure even of my crimes. But how am I to save you from your cruel father?”
“There is still hope. I hope to move him by my tears and despair. He’s stubborn, but he loves me so.”
“Don’t have vain hopes: in those tears he’ll see only the usual timidity and revulsion common to all young girls when they marry not out of passion, but from sensible convenience. What if he takes it into his head to make you happy despite yourself? What if you’re forcibly led to the altar, so that your fate is forever handed over to an old husband’s power?”
“Then, then there’s no help for it; come for me, I will be your wife.”
Dubrovsky trembled and a crimson flush spread over his pale face, which a moment later became still paler than before. For a long time he hung his head and said nothing.
“Gather all your inner forces, beg your father, throw yourself at his feet, picture for him all the horror to come, your youth fading away at the side of a feeble and depraved old man, dare to speak harshly: tell him that if he remains implacable, you…you will find a terrible defense…Tell him that wealth will not bring you a moment’s happiness; that luxury is only a comfort for poverty, and then only for a moment, only from being unaccustomed; don’t let up on him, don’t be frightened by his wrath or his threats, as long as there’s even a shadow of hope, for God’s sake, don’t let up. But if there’s no other way left…”
Here Dubrovsky covered his face with his hands, he seemed to be choking. Masha wept…
“Oh, my wretched, wretched fate!” he said with a bitter sigh. “I would give my life for you, to see you from afar, to touch your hand would be ecstasy for me. And when the possibility opens for me to press you to my agitated heart and say: ‘My angel, let us die!’—wretched man, I must beware of that bliss, I must hold it off with all my strength…I dare not fall at your feet, to thank heaven for its incomprehensible, undeserved reward. Oh, how I should hate that man…but I feel that there is now no room for hatred in my heart.”
He gently put his arms around her slender waist and gently drew her to his heart. She trustingly lowered her head to the young robber’s shoulder. Both were silent.
Time flew by.
“I must go,” Masha said at last. It was as if Dubrovsky awoke from a trance. He took her hand and placed a ring on her finger.
“If you decide to resort to me,” he said, “bring the ring here, put it into the hollow of this oak, and I will know what to do.”
Dubrovsky kissed her hand and disappeared into the trees.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Prince Vereisky’s marriage plans were no longer a secret in the neighborhood. Kirila Petrovich received congratulations, the wedding was in preparation. Masha kept postponing the decisive talk from one day to the next. Meanwhile she treated her elderly suitor coldly and stiffly. The prince was not worried by that. He was not concerned about love, he was satisfied with her tacit consent.
But time was passing. Masha finally decided to act and wrote a letter to Prince Vereisky; she tried to arouse a feeling of magnanimity in his heart, openly admitted that she felt not the slightest attachment to him, begged him to renounce her hand and protect her from parental authority. She handed the letter to Prince Vereisky in secret; he read it when he was alone, and was not moved in the least by his fiancée’s candor. On the contrary, he saw the necessity of hastening the wedding, and to that end deemed it proper to show the letter to his future father-in-law.
