The Queen of Spades, and other stories. Aleksandr Sergeevich Pushkin

at last promised in future to be himself sole censor of the poet's works.

      Pushkin remained at Moscow till about the end of the winter of 1827, when he was allowed to go to St. Petersburg. There he afterwards chiefly resided, returning sometimes to the country to work, usually in autumn, when his power of production, he said, was strongest.

      In the summer of 1829 Pushkin visited the Army of the Caucasus then operating against the Turks. He describes his experiences in his "Journey to Erzeroum."

      On the 18th of February, 1831, he married Natalia Nikolaevna Gontcharova, and soon afterwards received a Foreign Office appointment with a salary of 5,000 roubles.

      In August, 1833, meaning to write a novel on the Pugatcheff Insurrection, Pushkin paid a short visit to Kazan and Orenburg to acquaint himself with the locality and collect materials. But his tale, "The Captain's Daughter," appeared considerably later.

      Pushkin and his wife were invited to the court balls, and the Emperor was very gracious and attentive to the poet.

      This roused the jealousy of the court nobles, though in descent Pushkin was not inferior to many of them. The studied hauteur of these personages caused the poet much irritation, and led him to waste much energy on petty struggles for social precedence. He was, moreover, constantly in lack of means to meet the expenses attending his position. Partly on this account he undertook, in 1836, the editorship of the Contemporary Review, and continued it until his death. In the four numbers issued under his care, Pushkin published original articles, besides the translations then so much in vogue.

      All the publications of that time were made to serve the personal aims of their editor. It was useless to seek in them impartiality. Pushkin's criticism, however, were independent, and for this reason they made a deep impression. On starting his Review he had taken great care to entrust the criticism to a small circle of the most accomplished writers.

      Pushkin's correspondence throws full light on his character, and reveals it as frank, sincere, and independent. His letters show that he had original ideas on literature, on contemporary politics, on social and domestic relations, and, in short, on every subject. These views were always clear and independent of party.

      During his later years the poet felt a longing for the country. As early as 1835 he petitioned for some years' leave in order that he might retire from the capital. In his last poem, "To my Wife," he says how weary he is of noisy town existence and how he longs for rest.

      At the end of 1836 scandals were circulated at St. Petersburg about his wife. Dantès von Heckeeren, an officer in the Horse Guards, began openly to pay her attention. Pushkin and many of his friends received anonymous letters maliciously hinting at Dantès success. Dantès's father, a dissipated old man, threw oil upon the flames. Meeting Madame Pushkin in society, he did his best to make her quarrel with, and leave her husband.

      All this being repeated to Pushkin, greatly incensed him. He challenged young Heckeeren, but the latter made an offer to Madame Pushkin's sister, and married her. This did little to mend matters. Pushkin withdrew the challenge, but nursed his hatred for Dantès, and would not receive him in his house.

      Meanwhile the scandal grew, and the two Heckeerens continued their persecution of Madame Pushkin. In society, Dantès was said to have married the sister-in-law only to pay court to the wife. Pushkin, always convinced of his wife's innocence, showed for her the tenderest consideration. He wrote, however, a very insulting letter to old Heckeeren after which a duel between Pushkin and the son became inevitable. It was fought on the banks of the Black Elver, near the commandant of St. Petersburg's summer residence. After it Dantès Heckeeren, no longer able to remain in Russia, resigned his commission and went to France, where he took up politics, and, as Baron d'Heckeeren, was known as a senator in the Second Empire.

      Pushkin was already wounded in the body when he fired at Dantès, and hit the arm with which Dantès had guarded his breast.

      "At six o'clock in the afternoon," writes Jukovsky, to the poet's father, "Alexander was brought home in a hopeless condition by Lieutenant—Colonel Dansasse, the old schoolfellow who had acted as his second. The butler carried him from the carriage into the house.

      "It grieves you, my friend," said Pushkin, "to see me thus?" Then he asked for clean linen. While he was undressing, Madame Pushkin, not knowing what had happened, wished to come in. But her husband called out loudly, "N'entrez pas, il y a du monde chez moi." He was afraid of alarming her. She was not admitted till he was already lying on the couch.

      "How happy I am," were his first words to her; "I am still alive, with you by my side. Be comforted, you are not to blame. I know it was not your fault." Meanwhile he did not let her know that his wound was serious. Doctors were sent for—Scholtz and Sadler came. Pushkin asked everyone to leave the room.

      "I am in a bad way," he said, holding out his hand to Scholtz. After examining him Sadler went off to fetch the necessary instruments. Left alone with Scholtz, Pushkin inquired what he thought of his condition.

      "Tell me candidly."

      "You are in danger."

      "Say, rather, that I am dying."

      "It is my duty not to conceal from you even that," replied Scholtz. "But we shall have the opinion of the other doctors who have been sent for."

      "Je vous remercie; vous avez agi en honnête homme envers moi," said Pushkin; adding after a pause, "Il faut que j'arrange ma maison."

      "Do you wish to see any of your family?" asked Scholtz.

      "Farewell, my friends," said Pushkin, looking towards his books.

      Whether at that moment he was taking leave of animate or inanimate friends I know not. After another pause, he said:

      "Do you think I shall not last another hour?"

      "No. But I thought you might like to see some of your friends."

      He asked for several. When Spaski (another doctor) came near and tried to give him hope, Pushkin waved his hand in dissent, and from that moment apparently ceased to think about himself. All his anxiety was for his wife. By this time Prince and Princess Viasemsky, Turgueneff, Count Vielgorsky, and myself had come. Princess Viasemsky was with the wife, who, in terrible distress, glided like a spectre in and out of the room where her husband lay. He was on a couch with his back to the window and door, and unable to see her; though every time she entered or merely stood in the doorway he was conscious of it.

      "Is my wife here?" he asked; "take her away." He was afraid to let her come near him lest she should be pained by his sufferings, though he bore them with wonderful fortitude.

      "What is my wife doing?" he asked once of Spaski. "She, poor thing, is suffering innocently. Society will devour her!"

      "I have been in thirty battles," said Dr. Arendt; "and I have seen many men die, but very few like him."

      It was strange how in those last hours of his existence he seemed to have changed. The storm which only a few hours before had raged so fiercely in him had disappeared, leaving no trace behind. In the midst of his suffering he recollected that he had the day before received an invitation to attend the funeral of one of Gretcheff's sons.

      "If you see Gretcheff," he said to Spaski, "give him my kind regards, and tell him how sincerely I sympathise with him in his affliction."

      Asked to confess and to receive the sacrament, Pushkin assented gladly. It was settled that the priest should be invited to come in the morning.

      At midnight, Dr. Arendt came from the palace, where he had been to inform the Emperor. His Majesty was at the theatre, and Arendt left instructions that on his return the Emperor should be told what had occurred. About midnight a mounted messenger arrived for Arendt. The Emperor desired him to go at once to Pushkin, and read to him an autograph letter which the messenger brought. He was then to hasten to the palace and report upon Pushkin's condition.

      "I shall not go to bed; I shall wait up for you," wrote the Emperor Nicholas.