that new idea.
Distrust and a desire to be convinced were expressed in her eyes. What
eyes they were! They sparkled just like two glowing coals.

"'Listen, my dear, good Bela!' continued Pechorin. 'You see how I love
you. I am ready to give up everything to make you cheerful once more.
I want you to be happy, and, if you are going to be sad again, I shall
die. Tell me, you will be more cheerful?'

"She fell into thought, her black eyes still fixed upon him. Then she
smiled graciously and nodded her head in token of acquiescence.

"He took her by the hand and tried to induce her to kiss him. She
defended herself feebly, and only repeated: 'Please! Please! You
mustn't, you mustn't!'

"He went on to insist; she began to tremble and weep.

"'I am your captive,' she said, 'your slave; of course, you can compel
me.'

"And then, again--tears.

"Grigori Aleksandrovich struck his forehead with his fist and sprang
into the other room. I went in to see him, and found him walking moodily
backwards and forwards with folded arms.

"'Well, old man?' I said to him.

"'She is a devil--not a woman!' he answered. 'But I give you my word of
honour that she shall be mine!'

"I shook my head.

"'Will you bet with me?' he said. 'In a week's time?'

"'Very well,' I answered.

"We shook hands on it and separated.

"The next day he immediately despatched an express messenger to Kizlyar
to purchase some things for him. The messenger brought back a quite
innumerable quantity of various Persian stuffs.

"'What think you, Maksim Maksimych?' he said to me, showing the
presents. 'Will our Asiatic beauty hold out against such a battery as
this?'

"'You don't know the Circassian women,' I answered. 'They are not at all
the same as the Georgian or the Transcaucasian Tartar women--not at all!
They have their own principles, they are brought up differently.'

"Grigori Aleksandrovich smiled and began to whistle a march to himself."

CHAPTER VI

"AS things fell out, however," continued Maksim Maksimych, "I was right,
you see. The presents produced only half an effect. She became
more gracious more trustful--but that was all. Pechorin accordingly
determined upon a last expedient. One morning he ordered his horse to be
saddled, dressed himself as a Circassian, armed himself, and went into
her room.

"'Bela,' he said. 'You know how I love you. I decided to carry you off,
thinking that when you grew to know me you would give me you