Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Three/Chapter 14
CHAPTER XIV
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch during his drive back to Petersburg not only fully decided on the line of conduct which he should adopt, but even composed in his head a letter to be sent to his wife. When he reached his Switzer's room, he glanced at the official papers and letters which had been brought from the ministry, and ordered them to be brought into the library.
"Shut the door, and let no one in," said he in reply to a question of the Swiss, emphasizing the last words—nye prinimat' —let no one in—with some satisfaction, which was an evident sign that he was in a better state of mind.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch walked up and down the library once or twice, and then, coming to his huge writing-table, on which his lackey, before going out, had placed six lighted candles, he cracked his fingers and sat down, and began to examine his writing-materials. Then, leaning his elbow on the table, he bent his head to one side, and after a moment of reflection he began to write without the slightest hesitancy. He wrote in French without addressing her by name, employing the pronoun vous, which has less coldness than the corresponding Russian word, vui, has. He wrote:—
At our recent interview, I expressed the intention of communicating to you my resolution concerning the subject of our conversation. Having carefully taken everything into consideration, I am writing now with the view of fulfilling my promise. This is my decision: whatever your conduct may have been, I do not acknowledge that I have the right to break the bonds which a Power Supreme has consecrated. The family cannot be broken up through a caprice, an arbitrary act, even through the crime of one of the parties; and our lives must remain unchanged. This must be so for my sake, for your sake, for the sake of our son. I am fully persuaded that you have been repentant, that you still feel repentant for the deed that obliges me to write you; that you will cooperate with me in destroying root and branch the cause of our estrangement and in forgetting the past.
In case this be not so, you yourself must understand what awaits you and your son. In regard to all this I hope to have a more specific conversation at a personal interview. As the summer season is nearly over, I beg of you to come back to Petersburg as soon as possible—certainly not later than Tuesday. All the necessary measures for your return hither will be taken. I beg you to take notice that I attach a very particular importance to your attention to my request.
A. Karenin.
P.S. I inclose in this letter money, which you may need at this particular time.
He reread his letter, and was satisfied with it—especially with the fact that he had thought of sending the money. There was not an angry word, not a reproach, neither was there any condescension in it. The essential thing was the golden bridge for their reconciliation. He folded his letter, smoothed it with a huge paper-cutter of massive ivory, inclosed it in an envelop together with the money, and rang the bell, feeling that sense of satisfaction which the use of his well-ordered, perfect epistolary arrangements always gave him.
"Give this letter to the courier for delivery to Anna Arkadyevna at the datcha to-morrow," said he, and arose.
"I will obey your excellency.[1] Will you have tea here in the library?"
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch ordered tea brought to him in the library; and then, still playing with the paper-cutter, he went toward his arm-chair, near which were a shaded lamp and a French work on cuneiform inscriptions which he had begun.
Above the chair, in an oval gilt frame, hung a portrait of Anna, the excellent work of a distinguished painter. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch looked at it. The eyes, as inscrutable as they had been on the evening of their attempted explanation, looked down at him ironically and insolently. Everything about this remarkable portrait seemed to Alekseï Aleksandrovitch insupportably insolent and provoking, from the black lace on her head and her dark hair, to the white, beautiful hand and the ring-finger covered with jeweled rings.
After gazing at this portrait for a moment, Alekseï Aleksandrovitch shuddered, his lips trembled, and with a "brr" he turned away. Hastily sitting down in his arm-chair, he opened his book. He tried to read, but he could not regain the keen interest which he had felt before in the cuneiform inscriptions. His eyes looked at the book, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking, not of his wife, but of a complication which had recently arisen in important matters connected with his official activity, and which at present formed the chief interest of his service. He felt that he was more deeply than ever plunged into this complicated affair, and that he could without self-conceit claim that the idea which had originated in his brain was bound to disentangle the whole difficulty, to confirm him in his official career, put down his enemies, and thus enable him to do a signal service to the State. As soon as his servant had brought his tea, and left the room, Alekseï Aleksandrovitch got up and went to his writing-table. Pushing to the center of it a portfolio which contained papers relating to this affair, he seized a pencil from the stand, and, with a faintly sarcastic smile of self-satisfaction, buried himself in the perusal of the documents relative to the complicated business under consideration.
The complication was as follows: The distinguishing trait of Alekseï Aleksandrovitch as a government official,—the one characteristic trait peculiar to him alone, though it must mark every progressive chinovnik,—the trait which had contributed to his success no less than his eager ambition, his moderation, his uprightness, and his self-confidence, was his detestation of "red tape," and his sincere desire to avoid, as far as he could, unnecessary writing, and to go straight on in accomplishing needful business with all expedition and economy. It happened that, in the famous Commission of the 14th of June, a project was mooted for the irrigation of the fields in the government of Zaraï, which formed a part of Alekseï Aleksandrovitch's jurisdiction; and this project offered a striking example of the few results obtained by official correspondence and expenditure.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch knew that it was a worthy object. The matter of the irrigation of the fields in the government of Zaraï had come to him by inheritance from his predecessor in the ministry, and, in fact, had already cost much money and brought no results. When Alekseï Aleksandrovitch entered the ministry, he had perceived this, and had wanted immediately to put his hand to this work; but at first he did not feel himself strong enough and perceived that it touched too many interests and was imprudent, and afterward, having become involved in other matters, he entirely forgot about it.
The fertilization of the Zaraï fields, like all things, went in its own way by force of inertia. Many people got their living through it, and one family in particular, a very agreeable and musical family—all of the daughters of which played on stringed instruments. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch knew this family, and had been nuptial godfather [2] when one of the elder daughters was married.
The opposition to this affair, raised by his enemies in another branch of the ministry, was unjust, in the opinion of Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, because in every ministry there are similar cases which by a well-known rule of official etiquette no one ever bothers himself about. But now, since they had thrown down the gauntlet, he had boldly accepted the challenge and asked for the appointment of a special commission for examining and verifying the labors of the commissioners on the fertilization of the Zaraï fields; and this did not prevent him from also keeping these gentlemen busy in other ways. He had also demanded a special commission for investigating the status and organization of the foreign populations.
This last question had likewise been raised by the Commission of June 14, and was energetically supported by Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, on the ground that no delay should be allowed in relieving the deplorable situation of these alien tribes.
In committee this matter gave rise to the most lively discussions among the ministries. The ministry hostile to Alekseï Aleksandrovitch proved that the position of the foreign populations was perfectly flourishing; that to meddle with them would be to injure their well-being; and that, if any fault could be found in regard to the matter, it was due to the neglect of Alekseï Aleksandrovitch and his ministry, in not carrying out the measures prescribed by law.
Now Alekseï Aleksandrovitch had made up his mind to demand: first, the appointment of a new committee, whose duty should be to study on the spot the condition of the foreign populations; secondly, in case their condition should be found such as the official data in the hands of the committee represented, that a new scientific commission should be sent to study into the causes of this sad state of things, with the aim of settling it from the (a) political, (d) administrative, (c) economical, (d) ethnographical, (e) physical, and (f) religious point of view; thirdly, that the hostile ministry should be required to furnish the particulars in regard to the measures taken during the last ten years to relieve the wretched situation in which these tribes were placed; and fourthly and finally, that this ministry should explain the fact that they had acted in absolute contradiction to the fundamental and organic law, Volume T, page 18, with reference to Article 36, as was proved by an act of the committee under numbers 17,015 and 18,308 of the 17th of December, 1863, and the 19th of June, 1864.
A flush of animation covered Alekseï Aleksandrovitch's face as he rapidly wrote down for his own use a digest of these thoughts. After he had covered a sheet of paper, he rang a bell, and sent a messenger to the director of the chancelry, asking for a few data which were missing. Then he got up, and began to walk up and down the room, looking again at the portrait with a frown and a scornful smile. Then he resumed his book about the cuneiform inscriptions, and found that his interest of the evening before had come back to him. He went to bed about eleven o'clock; and as he lay, still awake, he passed in review the affair with his wife, and it no longer appeared to him in the same gloomy aspect.