Fifty-Two Stories

Was this von Rabbek not the same sort? But whether he was or not, there was nothing to be done. The officers dressed up, brushed themselves off, and the throng of them went in search of the landowner’s house. On the square by the church they were told that they could get to the gentleman by the lower way—going down behind the church to the river and walking along the bank to the garden, and from there along the paths to the house; or by the upper way—straight from the church along the road that leads to the barns of the estate a half mile from the village. The officers decided to take the upper way.

“Which von Rabbek is this?” they discussed on the way. “The one who commanded the N—— cavalry division at Plevna?”¹

“No, that one wasn’t von Rabbek, he was just Rabbe, and without the von.”

“What fine weather!”

By the first barn the road divided in two: one branch went straight and disappeared into the evening murk; the other led to the right, to the manor house. The officers turned right and began to speak softly…On both sides of the road stretched stone barns with red roofs, heavy and stern, very much like the barracks of the provincial capital. Ahead shone the windows of the manor house.

“A good omen, gentlemen,” said one of the officers. “Our setter has gone ahead of us all; it means he senses there’ll be quarry!…”

Ahead of them all walked Lieutenant Lobytko, tall and thickset but quite moustacheless (he was over twenty-five, but for some reason no growth appeared on his round, well-fed face), famous in the brigade for his intuition and proficiency in divining the presence of women from a distance. He turned around and said:

“Yes, there should be women here. I sense it instinctively.”

On the doorstep of the house the officers were met by von Rabbek himself, a fine-looking old man of about sixty, in civilian dress. Shaking his guests’ hands, he said he was very glad and delighted, but earnestly, for God’s sake, asked the gentlemen officers to forgive him for not inviting them to stay the night; two sisters with children, brothers, and neighbors had come to visit, so that there was not a single spare room left.

The general shook hands with them all, apologized and smiled, but from his face it could be seen that he was far from being as glad of his guests as last year’s count, and that he had invited the officers only because, in his opinion, propriety demanded it. And the officers themselves, going up the carpeted stairs and listening to him, felt that they had been invited to this house only because it was awkward not to invite them, and at the sight of the servants, who were hurriedly lighting candles downstairs by the entrance and upstairs in the front hall, it began to seem to them that, along with themselves, they had brought unrest and anxiety. In the house, where, probably on account of some family celebration or event, two sisters with children, brothers, and neighbors had gathered, how could anyone be pleased by the presence of nineteen unknown officers?

Upstairs, at the entrance to the reception room, the guests were met by a tall and slender old woman with a long, dark-browed face, very much resembling the empress Eugénie.² With a welcoming and majestic smile, she said she was glad and delighted to see guests in her house, and apologized that she and her husband were deprived this time of the possibility of inviting the gentlemen officers to stay the night with them. By her beautiful, majestic smile, which instantly disappeared from her face each time she turned away from her guests for some reason, one could see that she had seen many gentlemen officers in her time, that she could not be bothered with them right now, and if she invited them to her house and apologized, it was only because her upbringing and social position demanded it.

In the large dining room that the officers entered, at one end of a long table, some dozen men and women, old and young, sat at tea. Further behind their chairs, a group of men enveloped in light cigar smoke showed darkly; in the middle of it stood a lean young man with red sideburns, speaking loudly in English and rolling his r’s. Beyond the group, through a doorway, a bright room with light blue furniture could be seen.

“Gentlemen, there are so many of you that it’s impossible to introduce you!” the general said loudly, trying to seem very cheerful. “Simply introduce yourselves, gentlemen!”

The officers—some with very serious, even stern faces, others with forced smiles, all of them feeling very awkward—somehow made their bows and sat down to tea.