Kirila Petrovich was furious; the prince barely persuaded him not to let Masha see that he knew about the letter. Kirila Petrovich agreed not to speak to her about it, but decided to waste no time and set the wedding for the very next day. The prince found that quite reasonable, went to his fiancée, told her that the letter had grieved him very much, but that he hoped in time to win her affection, that the thought of losing her was too painful for him, and that he was unable to accept his own death sentence. After which he kissed her hand respectfully and left, not saying a word to her about Kirila Petrovich’s decision.
But he had barely had time to drive out of the courtyard before her father came to her and ordered her straight out to be ready for the next day. Marya Kirilovna, already agitated by her talk with Prince Vereisky, dissolved in tears and threw herself at her father’s feet.
“Dear papa,” she cried in a pitiful voice, “dear papa, don’t destroy me, I don’t love the prince, I don’t want to be his wife…”
“What is the meaning of this?” Kirila Petrovich said menacingly. “Up to now you were silent and consenting, but now, when everything’s settled, you’ve taken a notion to be capricious and renounce it. Kindly don’t play the fool; that will get you nowhere with me.”
“Don’t destroy me,” poor Masha repeated. “Why do you drive me away and give me to a man I don’t love? Are you tired of me? I want to stay with you as before. Dear papa, it will be sad for you without me, and sadder still when you think how unhappy I am, dear papa. Don’t force me, I don’t want to get married…”
Kirila Petrovich was moved, but he concealed his perplexity and, pushing her away, said sternly:
“This is all nonsense, do you hear? I know better than you what’s necessary for your happiness. Tears won’t help you, your wedding will be the day after tomorrow.”
“The day after tomorrow!” cried Masha. “My God! No, no, it’s impossible, it will not be. Dear papa, listen, if you’re already resolved to destroy me, I’ll find a protector, one you’ve never thought of, you’ll see, you’ll be horrified at what you’ve driven me to.”
“What? What?” said Troekurov. “So you threaten me, threaten me, you impudent girl! Be it known to you that I shall do something to you that you cannot even imagine. You dare to frighten me with your protector. We’ll see who this protector turns out to be.”
“Vladimir Dubrovsky,” Masha replied in despair.
Kirila Petrovich thought she had gone out of her mind, and stared at her in amazement.
“Very well,” he said after a brief silence. “Wait for any deliverer you like, but meanwhile you’ll sit in this room, you won’t leave it till the wedding itself.”
With these words Kirila Petrovich left and locked the door behind him.
The poor girl wept for a long time, imagining all that lay ahead of her, but the stormy talk relieved her soul, and she was now able to reason more calmly about her fate and what she was to do. The main thing for her was to be delivered from the hateful marriage; the fate of a robber’s wife seemed to her like paradise compared to the lot being prepared for her. She looked at the ring Dubrovsky had left her. She ardently wished to see him alone and once more talk things over with him at length before the decisive moment. Her intuition told her that in the evening she would find Dubrovsky by the gazebo in the garden; she decided to go and wait for him there as soon as it began to grow dark. It grew dark. Masha made ready, but her door was locked. The maid told her from outside the door that Kirila Petrovich had given orders not to let her out. She was under arrest. Deeply offended, she sat by the window and remained there until late at night without undressing, staring fixedly at the dark sky. At dawn she dozed off, but her light sleep was disturbed by sad visions, and the rays of the rising sun awakened her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She woke up, and with her first thought all the horror of her situation presented itself to her. She rang, the maid came in, and to her questions replied that Kirila Petrovich had gone to Arbatovo in the evening and come back late, that he had given strict instructions not to let her out of the room and to see that no one talked to her, that, on the other hand, no special preparations for the wedding could be seen, except that the priest had been ordered not to absent himself from the village under any pretext. After this news the maid left Marya Kirilovna and once again locked the door.
Her words infuriated the young captive. Her head was seething, her blood was stirred, she decided to inform Dubrovsky of everything and began to seek some way of sending the ring to the hollow of the secret oak. At that moment a little stone struck her window, the glass made a ping, and Marya Kirilovna looked out and saw little Sasha making mysterious signs to her. She knew his affection for her and was glad to see him. She opened the window.
“Hello, Sasha,” she said. “Why are you calling me?”
