arental blessing and our consent to your marriage with Marya Ivanofna,
the Mironoff daughter.[46] And not only have I no intention of giving
you either my blessing or my consent, but I intend to come and punish
you well for your follies, like a little boy, in spite of your officer's
rank, because you have shown me that you are not fit to wear the sword
entrusted to you for the defence of your country, and not for fighting
duels with fools like yourself. I shall write immediately to Andrej
Karlovitch to beg him to send you away from Fort Belogorsk to some place
still further removed, so that you may get over this folly.

"Upon hearing of your duel and wound your mother fell ill with sorrow,
and she is still confined to her bed.

"What will become of you? I pray God may correct you, though I scarcely
dare trust in His goodness.

"Your father,

"A.G."

The perusal of this letter aroused in me a medley of feelings. The
harsh expressions which my father had not scrupled to make use of hurt
me deeply; the contempt which he cast on Marya Ivanofna appeared to me
as unjust as it was unseemly; while, finally, the idea of being sent
away from Fort Belogorsk dismayed me. But I was, above all, grieved at
my mother's illness.

I was disgusted with Saveliitch, never doubting that it was he who had
made known my duel to my parents. After walking up and down awhile in my
little room, I suddenly stopped short before him, and said to him,
angrily--

"It seems that it did not satisfy you that, thanks to you, I've been
wounded and at death's door, but that you must also want to kill my
mother as well."

Saveliitch remained motionless, as it struck by a thunderbolt.

"Have pity on me, sir," he exclaimed, almost sobbing. "What is it you
deign to tell me--that I am the cause of your wound? But God knows I was
only running to stand between you and Alexey Ivanytch's sword. Accursed
old age alone prevented me. What have I now done to your mother?"

"What did you do?" I retorted. "Who told you to write and denounce me?
Were you put in my service to be a spy upon me?"

"I denounce you!" replied Saveliitch, in tears. "Oh, good heavens! Here,
be so good as to read what master has written to me, and see if it was I
who denounced you."

With this he drew from his pocket a letter, which he offered to me, and
I read as follows:--

"Shame on you, you old dog, for never writing and telling me anything
about my son, Petr' Andrejitch, in spi