Chapter 13 Dubrovsky - Part 1 (2)

Chapter Four There should be good food on the table, Now there is a Lingguo parked. A few days after returning home, young Dubrovsky tried to get down to business, but his father could not give him the necessary explanations—and Andrey Gavrilovich had no agent .In clearing his papers, the son found only the first letter from the jury and a draft reply to it, from which he could not get the gist of the case, convinced himself that he was right, and decided to wait for the result. At the same time, Andrei Gavrilovich's health was getting worse and worse, and Vladimir, foreseeing his approaching end, guarded the old man who looked like a baby every step of the way.

During this period the statutory time limit expired and no appeal was lodged.Kischenevka was already owned by Troegulov.Shabashkin appeared in front of him, bowed frequently, congratulated him repeatedly, and asked his lord when to take over the new property, and whether he should do it himself or entrust someone else to act as an agent.Kirila Petrovich was bewildered.He wasn't naturally greedy, but his vindictiveness made him go too far, and his conscience was a little disturbed.He knew what was in his adversary, his old friend of youth—this victory did not please him.He gave Shabashkin a hard look, and wanted to find a way to curse him, but when he couldn't find enough reasons as an excuse, he said angrily: "Get out of here! Who will listen to your nonsense!"

Seeing that he was getting angry, Shabashkin saluted and hurried away.Kirila Petrovich, who was left alone, paced up and down the room, whistling "Roar!"Victory Thunder! ’, which, as usual, meant he was upset. At last he ordered the buggy to be harnessed, added clothes (it was the end of September), and drove himself out of the yard. Presently he saw Andrey Gavrilovitch's little room, and conflicting feelings filled his heart.Revenge and bullying somewhat suppressed the nobler feelings, but the latter finally prevailed.He made up his mind to make peace with his old friend, to erase the traces of the quarrel, and to restore his estate.Kirila Petrovich was much relieved by this good idea, and he let go of his horse and strode off to the neighbor's estate, driving the carriage into the yard.

At this time the patient was sitting by the bed in his bedroom.He recognized Kirila Petrovich, and panic immediately appeared on his face, the blood rushed up, his usually pale face was flushed with anger, his eyes were blazing, and he uttered slurred words.His son, who was sitting nearby looking over the ledger, looked up and was startled by his father's appearance.The patient pointed to the yard angrily and frightened.He frantically picked up the hem of his robe, intending to stand up from the chair, but just as he was about to get up... he suddenly fell down.The son rushed over, the old man lost consciousness, stopped breathing, he had a stroke. "Hurry up! Get into town and get a doctor!" Vladimir shouted. "Kirila Petrovitch wants to see you," announced a servant.Vladimir shot him an angry look.

"Tell Kirila Petrovich to get out of here, or I'll order him to be thrown out . . . out!" The servant ran happily to carry out his master's order.Yegolovna clapped her hands together. "My young master!" she said in a high-pitched voice. "You don't want your head! Kirila Petrovich will eat us up."—"Stop it, Mammy!" Vladimir said angrily, "send Anton to town immediately Doctor." Yegolovna went out. There was no one in the hall, and everyone ran out into the yard to see Kirila Petrovich.Yegolovna went up to the steps and heard the servant deliver the young master's reply.Kirila Petrovitch sat in the carriage and listened.His face became darker than the night, he smiled contemptuously, glanced murderously at a group of servants, and then drove the horse slowly past the yard.He looked at the window, where Andrey Gavrilovitch had been sitting just now, had disappeared.The nanny was still standing on the steps, having forgotten the master's order.The servants talked about what happened just now.Suddenly, Vladimir came among the servants and said in tears: "There is no need to call a doctor, Papa is dead."

There was a panic.They rushed into the old master's room.He leaned back on the armchair into which Vladimir had carried him.The right hand drooped and touched the floor, and the head drooped to the chest—this body had no signs of life, and although it was not cold, it was dead and deformed.Yegolovna burst into tears, and the servants gathered around the corpse entrusted to their care, washed him, put him in the uniform he had made in 1797, and put him on the table next to it They have served their masters for many years. chapter Five The funeral was held on the third day.The poor old man's body lay on the table, covered with a quilt, and surrounded by candles.The dining room was full of servants.It's about to start.Vladimir and three other servants lifted the coffin.The priest led the way, followed by the deacon, who sang the funeral service.The proprietors of Kischenevka's generation passed the threshold of their house for the last time.The coffin was carried through the woods.Beyond the woods is the church.

It was sunny and cold.Yellow leaves are falling. After leaving the village, you can see the Kischenevka wooden church and the cemetery shaded by old linden trees.Vladimir's mother is buried there, and a new grave was dug yesterday next to her grave. The church was full of Kischenevka peasants who had come to pay their last salute to their master.Young Dubrovsky stood by the choir.He neither wept nor prayed, but his face was dark and frightening.The mourning service is over.Vladimir first stepped forward to say goodbye to the body, and then all the servants said goodbye to the body one by one.Cover the coffin and nail it.The women wailed loudly, and the men wiped their tears with their fists from time to time.Vladimir and the original three servants carried the coffin to the cemetery, followed by the whole village.The coffin was put into the tomb, everyone present sprinkled a handful of soil, the tomb was filled up, everyone bowed, and then went back.Vladimir hurried off, ahead of the others, and disappeared in the Kischenevka forest.

Yegolovna invited the priest and all the church staff to the funeral banquet in the name of the young master's family, and declared that the young master could not accompany her, so Father Anton, the priest's wife Fedotovna, and the church deacon walked to the master's house. He talked to Yegolovna about the benevolence of the dead master, and about the dangers of his heir. (The story of Troegulov's visit and how he was received has spread through the neighbourhood, and the local politicians have predicted a good show.) "Doom!" said the priest's wife, "if Vladimir It would be a pity that Andreich should not be our master! He's a good boy, no doubt about it."

"If he is not our master, who else?" Yegolovna hurriedly said, "Kirila Petrovitch will lose his temper in vain. His opponent is not to be trifled with: my little one." The eagle will defend itself, thank God, and a group of his closest friends will come to help. Look how many horns he has grown on Kirila Petrovich! My Grisha dares to call him: Get out! You old dog ! Get out of the yard! He slipped away with his tail between his legs." "Oh, Yegolovna!" said the deacon, "your Grisha has slipped his tongue. If I had to, I'd rather scold the archbishop than glance at Kirila Petrovitch. As soon as I saw him, my heart would jump with fear, my whole body would sweat, and my spine would automatically go limp and bend down..."

"Life is a dream, and everything is empty!" began the priest; "the dirge will have to be sung for Kirila Petrovich in the future, just as it is for Andrey Gavrilovich today, only It's just that the funeral should be done more generously, and guests should be invited more. God treats all equally!" "Oh, sir! We would have liked to invite all our neighbors, but Vladimir Andreyitch didn't want to. We have everything in our house, and we can afford guests, but the master didn't want to, and called What should we do? There aren't many guests now, so make sure you're drunk and full, dear guest!"

Hearing this cordial promise, and the mouth-watering fried buns waiting for them, the chatters couldn't help quickening their pace, and just walked into the host's house smoothly, where the table was already set with glasses and plates, wine and wine. The pot was also brought up. Meanwhile, Frakir burrowed into the depths of the woods, trying to wear himself out and suppress his grief.He kept going forward, whether there was a road or not.Branches caught him every now and then, pierced his face, and his feet got stuck in the mud from time to time—but he didn't care.At last he came to a pool surrounded by trees, and a stream flowed quietly through the woods that had left a few autumn leaves.Vladimir stopped, and sat down on a cold dirt bag. In his mind, more and more darker thoughts came to him... He felt deeply that he was alone and helpless, and the future was cloudy.Being an enemy of Troegulov will inevitably bring new disasters.His meager estate would be taken from him and fell into the hands of other people--thereby, he would be destitute.He sat there for a long time, motionless, watching the creek flowing quietly, taking away a few fallen leaves, and he was saddened.Realize that the same is true of life-everything goes by in an ordinary and quiet way.At last, realizing that it was getting dark, he got up and found his way home.But he still walked around in circles in the unfamiliar woods for a long time, and finally found a small path leading directly to the gate of his house. Dubrovsky met the priest and the churchgoers face to face.He thought it was an ominous omen, so he could not help but dodge and hide behind a tree.They did not notice him, and passed him in the midst of a lively conversation. "You're going to be in trouble forever?" the priest said to his wife. "What are we doing here? Whatever the outcome is, it's none of your business." The priest's wife answered something that Vladimir couldn't understand. As he approached the house, he saw a crowd—a crowd of peasants and servants crowded in the master's yard.From afar, Vladimir heard the noise of people talking.Two carriages were parked beside the shed.There were a few people in uniform standing on the steps, and it seemed that they were explaining something. "What's going on here?" He asked Anton angrily, who was running towards him, "Who are they? What are they going to do?" "Alas! Master Vladimir Andreitch!" replied the old man out of breath. "The court is here. They will force us to leave you and hand you over to Troegulov..." Vladimir bowed his head, and the servants gathered around the unfortunate young master, "You are our father," they cried, kissing his hand, "we have no other master but you, master, order Let us have a fight with the people of the court. We would rather die than betray you." Vladimir looked at them with strange emotions in his heart. "Stand still," he said to them, "I'll intercede with the magistrate."—"Go and intercede, sir!" several in the crowd cried, "don't be ashamed of these bastards. ." Vladimir went up to the officials.Shabashkin wore a cap, with his hands on his hips, and his eyes swept left and right.The county police chief, a large man in his fifties, with a red face and a mustache, coughed and said in his throat when Dubrovsky approached: "That's it. I repeat to you what I have just said: according to the judgment of the county court, from now on you will all belong to Kirila Petrovich Troegulov, whose agent is Mr. Shabashkin This one. You all have to follow his orders, and the girls have to love him and hurt him. He is really good at dealing with women." After making this light joke, the head of the county police chief laughed, and Shabashkin He and the other followers also laughed, and Vladimir held back his anger. "Excuse me, what's the matter?" he asked the jovial police chief with feigned indifference. "It is so," replied the inscrutable officer, "that our representative, Kirila Petrovich, has come to take over the estate and demand that the strangers who have nothing to do with him go away at once."—"But I don't think you need to ask me first. The peasants, but to me first, to dispossess the landlord himself..."—"Who are you?" interrupted Shabashkin, looking him up and down condescendingly. "Andrei Gavrilovich Dubrovsky, the former landowner, God called him, is dead. We don't know you, and we don't want to know you." "Vladimir Andreevich is our young master," said someone from the crowd. "Who dares to talk nonsense," said the police chief, "what kind of master? Who is this Vladimir Andreevich? Your master is Kirila Petrovich Tro Yegurov. Do you hear that, you fool?" "Nothing like that," said the same voice. "It's the other way around!" cried the police chief. "Hey! Village chief, come here!" The village chief stepped forward. "Search immediately to see who dares to talk back to me, and watch me beat him up!" The village chief asked the masses: Who said that?They didn't make a sound, and the few rows at the back immediately chattered, and the voice became louder and louder, and suddenly turned into a thrilling shout.The chief of police lowered his throat to try to appease. "Why do you keep looking at them," cried some of the house slaves, "brothers! Beat them hard!" The crowd began to move.Shabashkin and the other officials hurried into the hall and bolted the door. "Brothers! Bind them up!" cried the same voice that had just spoken.The crowd swarmed up... "Don't move!" Dubrovsky yelled. "Fool! What are you going to do? You will destroy yourself and me. Go home quickly and let me be quiet. Don't be afraid, the emperor is merciful. I will ask him, and he will avenge us. We All his children. How can he protect you if you are troublesome and lawless?" A few words from the young Dubrovsky, his sonorous voice and dignified air had the desired effect.The crowd fell silent, then dispersed—the yard was empty.The officials sat obediently in the hall.In the end, Shabashkin tiptoed open the door, walked up the steps, and bowed several times to Dubrovsky in self-deprecation, thanking him for his kind protection.Vladimir listened to him with contempt, and did not bother to answer a word. "We intend," went on the juror, "to beg Your Excellency to allow us to spend the night here only. For it is dark, and your peasants may attack us on the road. Please do a good deed! It will do as well to order some hay to be spread in the parlour." , we will leave tomorrow as soon as it gets dark." "As you wish," replied Dubrovsky dryly, "I am not the master here." Having said this, he went into his father's room and locked the door behind him. Chapter Six "Well! it's all over," he said to himself, "I have a place and a piece of bread this morning. To-morrow I must say good-bye to the house in which I was born and where my father died, and give it to The hangman who killed my father, the robber who made me poor." His eyes were fixed on the portrait of his mother.The painter depicted her leaning on a railing with her elbows, wearing white morning makeup, and a fiery red rose on her head. "This painting will also fall into the hands of my enemies," thought Vladimir, "and it will be thrown into the storage shed along with the broken chairs, or hung in the front hall for his dog-keeper to do whatever he wants." Ridiculous and judgmental, and in her bedroom and the room where my father died, would move in his housekeeper or live in a group of mistresses. No! No! He drove me out of this miserable house, He can't even think about getting it." Vladimir gritted his teeth, and terrible thoughts came to him.The voices of the officials came to his ears, and they gave orders, asking for this and that, tediously disturbing Utah's miserable thinking.Finally, everything returned to silence. Vladimir opened the cabinets and boxes, and began to clear the dead father's papers.Most of them are account books and various correspondence.Vladimir tore it up without looking at it.Inside he found a paper package with a letter: "Letter from my wife".Vladimir's heart was full of emotion, so he picked it up and went to school.These were some letters sent by Kischenevka to the army during the Russo-Turkish war.In the letter, she described the life of being alone in the boudoir and the hard work of housework, tenderly poured out the pain of parting, and called him to go home quickly and fall into the arms of his beloved wife.In one letter, she said that she was worried about the health of little Vladimir, and in another letter, she was happy about her son's precocious talents, saying that she expected him to have a great future and a happy life in the future.After reading it, Vladimir forgot everything in the world, and his whole soul was immersed in the realm of family happiness.Unknowingly, time was passing, and the clock on the wall struck eleven.Vladimir put the letters in his pocket and went out of the study with a candle.In the living room the officials slept on the floor.There were a few drained wine glasses on the table, and the smell of wine rushed into the nose and filled the room.Vladimir, disgusted, walked past them to go to the vestibule—the door was locked.Not finding the key, he went back to the living room and found the key on the table.He opened the door and bumped into a person, but it turned out that the person was hiding in the corner of the house, holding an ax in his hand, with a cold light.Vladimir took a candle and recognized Arkhib the blacksmith. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Oh! Vladimir Andreitch, it's you!" whispered Arkhib. "God bless you are lucky to have the candle!" Vladimir looked at him in amazement. "What are you doing hiding here?" he asked the blacksmith. "I thought... I came... to see if they were all in the house," Al-Hib said in a low voice. "Why an ax?" "What do you do with an axe? You can't do without an ax at this time of day! You see, these officials ain't very nice fellows—you'll see..." "You're drunk, drop your axe, and go to bed!" "Drunk? Vladimir Andreich! By God, he didn't drink a drop. When he heard what happened, he didn't want to drink. These officials are still trying to kidnap us and drive the master out of here." Own home...Listen! They're snoring, bloody beasts! Knock 'em down right now!" Vladimir frowned. "Listen! Arkhib!" He was silent for a moment, then said, "You are not thinking right. The officials are not to blame. Light the lanterns! Come with me." Arkhib took the candle from the master, took out the lantern from behind the stove, lit it, and the two quietly walked down the steps and walked along the side of the yard.The watchman knocked on the iron plate, and the dog barked. "Who's doing the watch?" Dubrovsky asked. "It's us, sir!" answered a high-pitched voice, "it's Vasilisa and Rukeria."—"Go back!" said Dubrovsky, "you women's vigil is not necessary."—" Off work." Al Khib said - "Thank you, sir!" The two women replied and went home immediately. Dubrovski went one step further.Two people approached him, calling him.Dubrovsky recognized the voices of Anton and Grisha. "Why don't you go to sleep?" he asked. "Why do you want to go to sleep!" Anton replied, "Who would have thought that we would end up in this situation..." "Easy!" interrupted Dubrovsky, "where is Egolovna?" "Upstairs in her little room," answered Grisha. "Go! Bring her here, and call all our people out of the house, and let no one stay in the house except the officials. Anton! You go and harness the car. " Grisha went, and after a while brought his mother along with him.The old lady did not take off her clothes that night.Except for the officials, no one in the room closed their eyes. "Is it all here?" Dubrovsky asked. "Is there no one left in the house?" "Except for the officials, there is none left," answered Grisha. "Bring some hay and straw," said Dubrovsky. Everyone ran into the stable to bring back the hay. "Put it on the steps. That's it, good! Folks, light the fire!" Alkheb turned on the lantern, and Dubrovsky lit the pine light. "Wait!" he said to Arkhib, "I was in a hurry and seemed to have locked the door of the front hall. Go and open it." Arkhib ran into the hall, but the door was open.Instead, Arkhib closed the door and locked it, muttering, "Open the door? That's not going to work!" and returned to Dubrovsky. Dubrovsky brought the pine light closer to the haystack, the hay was on fire, the flames rose, and after a while the whole yard was brightly lit. "Oh!" cried Yegolovna sadly, "Vladimir Andreitch! What are you doing?" "Shut up!" said Dubrovsky. "Good! Children! Good-bye! I am going away, to fate's sake. I wish you happiness with your new masters." "Benefactor! Our father!" cried they all, "we will not leave you, we will go with you." The horse is harnessed.Dubrovsky got into the car and made an appointment with them to meet them later in the Kischenevka Forest.Anton whipped the horse, and they drove out of the yard. got windy.In an instant, flames engulfed the entire house.Red clouds of smoke rose slowly over the roof.The window panes cracked, fell and shattered with a clang.Burning purlins fell one by one.Only pitiful wails and screams could be heard: "It's on fire! Help! Help!"—"That's not going to happen!" Al Khib smiled gloatingly, watching the raging fire. "Good Arkhib!" Yegolovna said to him, "go and save their rascals, and God will reward them." "That won't work!" replied the blacksmith. At this time, the officials appeared at the window, trying to break the double window frame.But the whole roof collapsed with a crash, and the screaming stopped. After a while, all the servants arrived in the yard.Ladies were crying and scrambling to salvage their own tatters, and children were jumping and jumping to watch the fire scene.Sparks flew out, the fire raged like a whirlwind, and small farmhouses nearby were also burned. "Everything's going well now!" said Arkhib. "It's a nice burn, isn't it? Maybe it'll be nice to see it from the village of Poklovskoe!" Then a new circumstance arose which caught his attention.A kitten was running on the top of a burning shed, and it was hard to jump down because there were fires all around.The poor animal was meowing, apparently calling for help.The children looked at it in despair and laughed to death. "What are you laughing at? What the hell!" the blacksmith said angrily, "Aren't you afraid of God? The creatures created by God are perishing, but you are laughing foolishly instead." So he moved a ladder to the eaves of the burning shed, and he Climb up to save the cat.The kitten understood his intentions, flusteredly expressed his gratitude, and grabbed his sleeve at once.The blacksmith, who was on fire in several places, climbed down the ladder holding the creature he rescued. "There, brethren! Good-bye!" he said to the perplexed servants. "I have nothing to do here. I wish you well, and don't dwell on my faults." The blacksmith left.The fire continued to burn for a while, and finally went out.Piles of fireless charcoal burned red in the dark night.Around the scene of the fire, some residents of Kischenevka walked up and down, their bodies burned to nothing. Chapter VII The next day, news of the fire spread throughout the neighborhood.There are different opinions, and each made different guesses and assumptions.Some said that Dubrovsky's servants got drunk at the funeral banquet and accidentally set the house on fire; some blamed the officials who were drinking and having fun in the new house they had just received; , the house caught fire by itself, and the magistrate and all the servants died in the flames.Only a few guessed the truth of the matter, and asserted that the culprit of this terrible disaster was none other than Dubrovsky himself, who was so vengeful that he would risk everything.The next day, Troyegulov drove to the scene of the fire to inspect it for himself.It appeared that the prefect of the county police, the jury of the district court, the attorney and the clerk, besides Vladimir Dubrovsky, Egolovna the nurse, Grigory the servant, Anton the coachman, and The whereabouts of blacksmith Arkhib are unknown.The servants all testify unanimously that several officials were burned when the roof collapsed.Charred bones dug out.Peasant women Vasilisa and Rukelia said they had seen Dubrovsky and blacksmith Alkhib a few minutes before the fire broke out.According to consensus, Arkhib the blacksmith was still alive, and he was the chief arsonist, if not the only one.Dubrovski has serious suspicions.Kirila Petrovich wrote a report on the fire to the governor, and a new case was opened. Soon, new news aroused people's curiosity and provided new material for discussion.A gang of robbers appeared in such and such a place, and everyone around them was frightened.The government's crackdown appears to be ineffective.Each robbery was more neatly done than the next.Home and road are not safe.The strong men drove several troikas, and galloped across the province in broad daylight, intercepting pedestrians and postal vehicles, breaking into villages, robbing landowners' manors, and then setting fire to them.The leader of the strongman is smart, brave, generous, and well-known far and wide.Everyone talked about his disappearance.Dubrovsky's name was on everyone's lips, and everyone was convinced that it was he and no one else who was at the head of that gang of daring bandits.One thing is puzzling: he was merciful to Troegurov's many estates, not a single hut was robbed by the bandits, not a single car was stopped by him.Troegulov, always conceited, took this exception for granted, since he was feared throughout the province and his estate was heavily guarded.At first, the neighbors privately laughed at Troegulov for thinking too highly of himself, and hoped that the group of uninvited guests would visit the luscious village of Pokrovskoye every day, but in the end they had to agree with Troegulov. Yegurov's opinion, and admitted that the robbers had a certain incomprehensible respect for him... Laughing at the governor, the chief of police, the extermination captain, that Dubrovsky slipped under the tip of their noses and was safe. Soon, October 1 came—the day of the pilgrimage to the church in Troegulov's village.This is not to say.Before describing this holiday and subsequent events, we have to introduce the reader to a few new characters, or rather, they are only mentioned at the beginning of the book. chapter eight As the reader may have already guessed, the daughter of Kirila Petrovich, whom we have only mentioned so far, is the heroine of this book.In the era we are describing, she was only seventeen years old, and she was as beautiful as a blooming flower.Her father doted on her to the point of madness, but treated her with a consistent wayward attitude, now trying to pander to her subtlest eccentricities, now frightening her by treating her roughly, even cruelly.He is convinced that his daughter is filial to him, but has never won her trust.She had always kept her thoughts and feelings from him, because she could never know for sure how her father would react to them.She had no friends and grew up alone.The neighbors' wives and daughters seldom came to visit Kirila Petrovich, because he usually had only the company of men, not women, for his conversations and entertainments.Our beauty, therefore, was seldom seen in the presence of her father's company.There is a large library in her home, most of which are the works of eighteenth-century French writers, which are at her free disposal.Her father, who had never read anything but a copy of The Fabulous Female Cook, could not guide her in her choice of books, so Masha browsed through all kinds of books, and naturally fell in love with them. Fiction.In this way, she finished her education.At the beginning, she was enlightened under the guidance of the governess, the French lady Mimi. Later, Kirila Petrovich showed great trust and love for the lady, and finally had to send her secretly to another place. to a farm, for by then the consequences of favor were too conspicuous.Miss Mimi left a pretty good impression on everyone.She was a good-natured girl who never used her apparent authority over Kirila Petrovitch to do anything wrong, unlike her changing concubines.Kirila Petrovich seemed to love her more than any other woman, and that was why the black-eyed little boy, a nine-year-old rascal, who looked like Miss Mimi from the south, grew up at his knees. , was recognized by him as his son.But another group of barefooted little fellows, who looked like Kirila Petrovitch shed his shell, were running around under his window, and were regarded as slaves.Kirila Petrovich hired a French teacher from Moscow for his little Sasha, and this gentleman was in the village of Poklovskoe at the time of the events we are about to describe. Kirila Petrovitch was very pleased with this gentleman, because he had a charming handsome appearance and a simple and natural way of dealing with others.He gave Kirila Petrovich his certificate of service and a letter from a relative of Troegurov, who had worked there for four years.Kirila Petrovich checked them all, and was only dissatisfied that the Frenchman was too young—not that he thought this lovely defect was incompatible with the patience and experience required of a teacher's profession, but he had other doubts. , decided to explain to Mr. immediately.For this he ordered Masha to be called (Kirila Petrovich did not speak French, and she acted as interpreter). "Come here, Martha! Tell this gentleman, that's it--I'll hire him. But there's one thing, he's not allowed to go after girls, or I'll show him what a son of a bitch I am... Translate to him Listen, Martha!" Martha blushed, turned to Monsieur, and told him in French that his father wanted him to be humble and well behaved. The Frenchman bowed to her, and replied that he hoped to win their respect, if not their love. Martha translated his answer word for word. "Good! Good!" said Kirila Petrovitch, "he needs no love or respect. His job is to take care of Sasha, teach him grammar and geography, and translate for him." Maria Kirilovna toned down her father's rude words in her translation.Kirila Petrovitch then let the Frenchman live in a wing assigned to him. Martha looked down upon the young Frenchman, because she had been brought up with aristocratic prejudices, and the teacher was only a first-class figure in her eyes as a servant and a craftsman, and a servant and a craftsman were nothing to her. Not a man.She paid no attention to the impression she made on Mr. Jeffersh, to the confusion and trembling he felt at the sight of her, and the change in his voice, which she did not notice.A sudden event caused her to completely change her opinion of him. Kirila Petrovitch's house always kept a few bear cubs, which were one of the chief entertainments of the Poklovskoe landowner.When they were little, the cubs were taken into the living room every day, and Kirila Petrovich would spend hours with them, making them fight with cats and dogs.When they grow up, they will be locked with iron chains, waiting for a real fight, and occasionally lead them to the owner's window to tease them to roll empty barrels.The bucket was full of nails, the bear stretched out its nose to smell it, and then touched it lightly. The nails pierced the sole of its foot.It drove it mad, and it charged furiously with all its might, until someone removed the object that had vainly aroused the poor beast's rage.Sometimes they put two bears on the carriage, no matter what happens, they will stuff them into the carriage when they catch the guests, and then let the bears drive for a trip. Wherever they want to go, they will follow God's guidance.Kirila Petrovich's happiest pleasure, however, was the following entertainment. Lock a bear in an empty house, tie its iron chain to the iron ring nailed to the wall, and starve it so much that its eyes turn white.The length of the chain was as long as the house, leaving only a small corner opposite the house to shelter from the attack of the terrible beast.Usually a new visitor was brought to the house, surprised, pushed in, and the door slammed, leaving the unfortunate guest alone, face to face with the furry hermit.The poor guest, whose clothes were torn and bloody from being scratched, quickly found the safe corner, but sometimes he had to stand for three hours at a time, clinging to the corner, watching helplessly. The beast growled at him two paces away, leaped, reared up like a man, and hurled itself at him... Such was the noble entertainment of the Russian patriarch!A few days after the teacher came, Troegulov thought of him and planned to invite him to have a taste of the bear's "apartment".因此，有一天早上把他叫来，领他走进阴暗的过道里，突然，一扇旁门打开，两名仆人将法国佬一把推进房里，立刻落锁。教师醒悟过来，但见一只锁住铁链的狗熊唿哧唿哧开始咆哮，从远处伸出鼻子嗅嗅新到的贵客，陡然，它抬起前爪竖立起来，准备对他进攻了……法国人没有慌张，没有逃跑，等待它的袋击。狗熊走近了，杰福什从兜里掏出小手枪，对准它的耳朵放了一枪。熊倒下了。大家跑过来，门打开了，基里拉·彼得洛维奇走进来，对自己所开的玩笑产生的结局感到惊讶。基里拉·彼得洛维奇想马上把这件事弄个水落石出：是谁事先向杰福什走露了风声？或者，为什么他兜里藏了一枝实弹手枪？他派人去找玛莎，玛莎跑来，把她父亲的问题翻译给法国人听了。 "我没有听说过关于熊的事情，"杰福什回答，"但我总随身带着手枪，因为我不能忍受侮辱。我地位卑微，又不能提出决斗。" 玛莎惊异地抬眼望着他，翻译了他的话给基里拉·彼得洛维奇听了。基里拉·彼得洛维奇什么也没回答，吩咐把狗熊拖出去剥皮，然后，他转向众人说："倒是一条好汉！他不怕，确实不怕。"从这一刻起，他喜欢杰福什了，也不想再考验他了。 但这次偶然事件却对玛利亚·基里洛夫娜产生了更深刻的印象。她的头脑被震动了。她亲眼看到那头被打死的狗熊，而杰福什站在旁边，神色镇定，跟她谈话，也从容自如。她看到，勇敢和自尊并非一个阶级所独具的品德，打从这以后，她开始尊敬这位年青的教师了，而这种尊敬的感情与时俱增，变得越来越明显。他们之间有了一些往来。玛莎有一条金嗓子，音乐方面有巨大的天赋，杰福什便自告奋勇给她上课。说了这么多，读者不难猜想，玛莎爱上他了，不过暂时她还不敢向自己承认罢了。