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〃'Good heavens！' I said to him； 'you know you said yourself that she was certain to die； so what is the good of all these preparations of yours？'
〃'Even so； it is better to do all this；' he replied； 'so that I may have an easy conscience。'
〃A pretty conscience； forsooth！
〃After midday Bela began to suffer from thirst。 We opened the windows； but it was hotter outside than in the room； we placed ice round the bed all to no purpose。 I knew that that intolerable thirst was a sign of the approaching end； and I told Pechorin so。
〃'Water； water！' she said in a hoarse voice； raising herself up from the bed。
〃Pechorin turned pale as a sheet； seized a glass； filled it； and gave it to her。 I covered my eyes with my hands and began to say a prayer I can't remember what。 。 。 Yes； my friend； many a time have I seen people die in hospitals or on the field of battle； but this was something altogether different！ Still； this one thing grieves me； I must confess： she died without even once calling me to mind。 Yet I loved her； I should think； like a father！ 。 。 。 Well； God forgive her！ 。 。 。 And； to tell the truth； what am I that she should have remembered me when she was dying？ 。 。 。
〃As soon as she had drunk the water； she grew easier but in about three minutes she breathed her last！ We put a looking…glass to her lips it was undimmed！
〃I led Pechorin from the room； and we went on to the fortress rampart。 For a long time we walked side by side； to and fro； speaking not a word and with our hands clasped behind our backs。 His face expressed nothing out of the common and that vexed me。 Had I been in his place； I should have died of grief。 At length he sat down on the ground in the shade and began to draw something in the sand with his stick。 More for form's sake than anything； you know； I tried to console him and began to talk。 He raised his head and burst into a laugh！ At that laugh a cold shudder ran through me。 。 。 I went away to order a coffin。
〃I confess it was partly to distract my thoughts that I busied myself in that way。 I possessed a little piece of Circassian stuff； and I covered the coffin with it； and decked it with some Circassian silver lace which Grigori Aleksandrovich had bought for Bela herself。
〃Early next morning we buried her behind the fortress； by the river； beside the spot where she had sat for the last time。 Around her little grave white acacia shrubs and elder…trees have now grown up。 I should have liked to erect a cross； but that would not have done； you know after all； she was not a Christian。〃
〃And what of Pechorin？〃 I asked。
〃Pechorin was ill for a long time； and grew thin； poor fellow； but we never spoke of Bela from that time forth。 I saw that it would be dis… agreeable to him； so what would have been the use？ About three months later he was appointed to the E Regiment； and departed for Georgia。 We have never met since。 Yet； when I come to think of it； somebody told me not long ago that he had returned to Russia but it was not in the general orders for the corps。 Besides； to the like of us news is late in coming。〃
Hereupon probably to drown sad memories he launched forth into a lengthy dissertation on the unpleasantness of learning news a year late。
I did not interrupt him； nor did I listen。
In an hour's time a chance of proceeding on our journey presented itself。 The snowstorm subsided； the sky became clear； and we set off。 On the way I involuntarily let the conversation turn on Bela and Pechorin。
〃You have not heard what became of Kaz… bich？〃 I asked。
〃Kazbich？ In truth； I don't know。 I have heard that with the Shapsugs； on our right flank； there is a certain Kazbich； a dare…devil fellow who rides about at a walking pace； in a red tunic； under our bullets； and bows politely whenever one hums near him but it can scarcely be the same person！〃 。 。 。
In Kobi； Maksim Maksimych and I parted company。 I posted on； and he； on account of his heavy luggage； was unable to follow me。 We had no expectation of ever meeting again； but meet we did； and； if you like； I will tell you how it is quite a history。 。 。 You must acknowledge； though； that Maksim Maksimych is a man worthy of all respect。 。 。 If you admit that； I shall be fully rewarded for my； perhaps； too lengthy story。
BOOK II MAKSIM MAKSIMYCH
AFTER parting with Maksim Maksimych； I galloped briskly through the gorges of the Terek and Darial； breakfasted in Kazbek； drank tea in Lars； and arrived at Vladikavkaz in time for supper。 I spare you a description of the mountains； as well as exclamations which convey no meaning； and word…paintings which convey no image especially to those who have never been in the Caucasus。 I also omit statistical observations； which I am quite sure nobody would read。
I put up at the inn which is frequented by all who travel in those parts； and where； by the way； there is no one you can order to roast your pheasant and cook your cabbage…soup； because the three veterans who have charge of the inn are either so stupid； or so drunk； that it is impossible to knock any sense at all out of them。
I was informed that I should have to stay there three days longer； because the 〃Adventure〃 had not yet arrived from Ekaterinograd and consequently could not start on the return journey。 What a misadventure！＇1＇ 。 。 。 But a bad pun is no consolation to a Russian； and； for the sake of something to occupy my thoughts； I took it into my head to write down the story about Bela； which I had heard from Maksim Maksimych never imagining that it would be the first link in a long chain of novels： you see how an insignificant event has sometimes dire results！ 。 。 。 Perhaps； however； you do not know what the 〃Adventure〃 is？ It is a convoy composed of half a company of infantry； with a cannon which escorts baggage…trains through Kabardia from Vladikavkaz to Ekaterinograd。
＇1＇ In Russian okaziya=occasion； adventure； etc。； chto za okaziya=how unfortunate！
The first day I found the time hang on my hands dreadfully。 Early next morning a vehicle drove into the courtyard。 。 。 Aha！ Maksim Maksimych！ 。 。 。 We met like a couple of old friends。 I offered to share my own room with him； and he accepted my hospitality without standing upon ceremony； he even clapped me on the shoulder and puckered up his mouth by way of a smile a queer fellow； that！ 。 。 。
Maksim Maksimych was profoundly versed in the culinary art。 He roasted the pheasant astonishingly well and basted it successfully with cucumber sauce。 I was obliged to acknowledge that； but for him； I should have had to remain on a dry…food diet。 A bottle of Kakhetian wine helped us to forget the modest number of dishes of which there was one； all told。 Then we lit our pipes； took our chairs； and sat down I by the window； and he by the stove； in which a fire had been lighted because the day was damp and cold。 We remained silent。 What had we to talk about？ He had already told me all that was of interest about himself and I had nothing to relate。 I looked out of the window。 Here and there； behind the trees； I caught glimpses of a number of poor； low houses straggling along the bank of the Terek； which flowed seaward in an ever…widening stream； farther off rose the dark…blue； jagged wall of the mountains； behind which Mount Kazbek gazed forth in his high… priest's hat of white。 I took a mental farewell of them； I felt sorry to leave them。 。 。
Thus we sat for a considerable time。 The sun was sinking behind the cold summits and a whitish mist was beginning to spread over the valleys； when the silence was broken by the jingling of the bell of a travelling…carriage and the shouting of drivers in the street。 A few vehicles； accompanied by dirty Armenians； drove into the courtyard of the inn； and behind them came an empty travelling…carriage。 Its light movement； comfortable arrangement； and elegant appearance gave it a kind of foreign stamp。 Be… hind it walked a man with large moustaches。 He was wearing a Hungarian jacket and was rather well dressed for a manservant。 From the bold manner in which he shook the ashes out of his pipe and shouted at the coachman it was impossible to mistake his calling。 He was obviously the spoiled servant of an indolent master something in the nature of a Russian Figaro。
〃Tell me； my good man；〃 I called to him out of the window。 〃What is it？ Has the 'Ad… venture' arrived； eh？〃
He gave me a rather insolent glance； straight… ened his cravat； and turned away。 An Armenian； who was walking near him； smiled and answered for him that the 〃Adventure〃 had； in fact； arrived； and would start on the return journey the following morning。
〃Thank heavens！〃 said Maksim Maksimych； who had come up to the window at that moment。 〃What a wonderful carriage！〃 he added； 〃probably it belongs to some official who is going to Tiflis for a judicial inquiry。 You can see that he is unacquainted with our little mountains！ No； my friend； you're not serious！ They are not for the like of you； why； they would shake even an English carriage to bits！ But who could it be？ Let us go and find out。〃
We went out into the corridor； at the end of which there was an open door leading into a side ro