Briefly Queen of Spades summary. Pushkin “The Queen of Spades” – read online

The Queen of Spades means secret malevolence.

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I

And on rainy days
They were going
Often;
They bent - God forgive them! ?
From fifty
One hundred
And they won
And they unsubscribed
Chalk.
So, on rainy days,
They were studying
Business.

One day we were playing cards with horse guard Narumov. The long winter night passed unnoticed; We sat down to dinner at five o'clock in the morning. Those who were the winners ate with great appetite, others, absentmindedly, sat in front of their empty cutlery. But the champagne appeared, the conversation became livelier, and everyone took part in it. What did you do, Surin? asked the owner. Lost, as usual. I must admit that I am unhappy: I play with myrrandole, I never get excited, nothing can confuse me, but I keep losing! And you have never been tempted? never put it on rue?.. Your firmness is amazing to me. And what about Hermann! said one of the guests, pointing to the young engineer, he hasn’t picked up cards in his life, he hasn’t forgotten a single password in his life, and until five o’clock he sits with us and watches our game! “The game occupies me greatly,” said Hermann, “but I am not able to sacrifice what is necessary in the hope of acquiring what is superfluous. Hermann is German: he is calculating, that’s all! Tomsky noted. And if anyone is unclear to me, it’s my grandmother, Countess Anna Fedotovna. How? What? - the guests shouted. “I can’t understand,” continued Tomsky, “how my grandmother doesn’t show off! “What’s surprising here,” said Narumov, “that an eighty-year-old woman doesn’t show off?” So you don’t know anything about her? No! right, nothing! Oh, so listen: You need to know that my grandmother, sixty years ago, went to Paris and was in great fashion there. People ran after her to see la Venus moscovite; Richelieu trailed after her, and the grandmother assures that he almost shot himself because of her cruelty. At that time, ladies played pharaoh. Once at court, she lost something very much to the Duke of Orleans at his word. Arriving home, the grandmother, peeling the flies off her face and untying her hoops, announced to her grandfather that she had lost and ordered him to pay. My late grandfather, as far as I remember, was my grandmother's butler. He feared her like fire; however, upon hearing about such a terrible loss, he lost his temper, brought the bills, proved to her that in six months they had spent half a million, that they had neither a village near Moscow nor Saratov near Paris, and completely refused payment. The grandmother slapped him in the face and went to bed alone, as a sign of her disfavor. The next day she ordered to call her husband, hoping that the home punishment had an effect on him, but she found him unshakable. For the first time in her life, she reached the point of reasoning and explanation with him; I thought to reassure him, condescendingly proving that debt is different and that there is a difference between a prince and a coachman. Where! grandfather rebelled. No, yes and only! Grandma didn't know what to do. She was briefly acquainted with a very remarkable man. Have you heard about Count Saint-Germain, about which they tell so many wonderful things. You know that he pretended to be the Eternal Jew, the inventor of the life elixir and the philosopher's stone, and so on. They laughed at him as a charlatan, and Casanova in his Notes he says that he was a spy; however, Saint-Germain, despite his mystery, had a very respectable appearance and was a very amiable person in society. Grandmother still loves him deeply and gets angry if people talk about him with disrespect. Grandmother knew that Saint Germain could have a lot of money. She decided to resort to him. She wrote him a note and asked him to come to her immediately. The old eccentric appeared immediately and found him in terrible grief. She described to him in the darkest colors the barbarity of her husband and finally said that she placed all her hope in his friendship and courtesy. Saint Germain thought about it. “I can serve you with this amount,” he said, “but I know that you will not be calm until you pay me, and I would not want to introduce you into new troubles. There is another remedy: you can win back.” “But, dear Count,” answered the grandmother, “I tell you that we have no money at all.” “Money is not needed here,” Saint-Germain objected: if you please listen to me.” Then he revealed to her a secret for which any of us would give dearly... Young players have doubled their attention. Tomsky lit his pipe, took a drag and continued. That same evening the grandmother appeared at Versailles, au jeu de la Reine. Duke of Orleans metal; Grandma slightly apologized for not bringing her debt, weaved a little story to justify it and began to pontificate against him. She chose three cards, played them one after another: all three won her Sonic, and the grandmother won back completely. Chance! said one of the guests. Fairy tale! Hermann noted. Maybe powder cards? picked up by a third. “I don’t think so,” answered Tomsky importantly. How! said Narumov, you have a grandmother who guesses three cards in a row, and you still haven’t learned her cabalistics from her? Yes, the hell with it! - answered Tomsky, - she had four sons, including my father: all four were desperate players, and she did not reveal her secret to any of them; although it would not be bad for them and even for me. But this is what my uncle, Count Ivan Ilyich, told me, and what he assured me of on his honor. The late Chaplitsky, the same one who died in poverty, having squandered millions, once lost in his youth I remember

Pushkin's work "The Queen of Spades", presented below in a brief summary, will help you remember the main points in the work and prepare perfectly for your literature lesson!

Chapter 1

The action of the story begins in the apartment of the horse guard Narumov. After playing cards, those gathered ask one of the guests, Hermann, why he, who had so enthusiastically followed the progress of the game, did not join them. Hermann replied that he was very interested in the game, but he did not want to risk what he had, only in the hope of acquiring more. Another guest, Paul Tomsky, said that such a view of the game is not surprising, because Hermann is German, and therefore prudent. Hermann indeed came from a family of Russified Germans; he was a secretive and ambitious man. Moreover, he was not rich, and even a small loss would have been offensive to him. What surprised Paul was that his grandmother, Countess Anna Fedotovna, refused to play.

Paul told everyone the story of his grandmother. More than half a century ago, while still a young beauty, she lost quite a lot of money to the Duke of Orleans; the husband refused to cover this debt, and the woman turned for help to the Count of Saint-Germain, an old rich man. However, he did not lend Anna Fedorovna any money; Instead, Saint Germain revealed to her the secret of three cards that ensured a win for anyone who bet on them in a row. Using this secret, the Countess got even in one evening. However, Anna Fedorovna did not tell anyone the real reason for her win; her four sons also remained uninitiated into this secret. The story told by Tomsky seemed implausible to all of Narumov’s guests, including Hermann.

Chapter 2

Anna Feodorovna lived with her pupil Lizaveta, whom she constantly reproached and insulted. The girl went everywhere with the old countess; No one noticed her, but she continued to wait for her “deliverer.” Lizaveta's life was not easy: the old woman constantly gave her conflicting orders and always showed dissatisfaction with their execution. The Countess made the girl guilty of everything that irritated her.

Several days passed after the evening at Narumov’s house; Lizaveta sat by the window and embroidered. Suddenly she noticed that a young man was standing under the window. Subsequently he appeared there every day; a week later, the girl, interested in the man’s attention, smiled at him for the first time. This young man was none other than Hermann. The story of Anna Feodorovna actually greatly impressed him, and he decided to find out the secret of the three cards at all costs; he even began to have dreams in which he, in possession of the old woman’s secret, constantly wins large sums. One day, while walking, he unknowingly came to the countess's house. The next morning he returned there again; Seeing Lizaveta in the window, the man realized that this was his chance.

Chapter 3

Soon, when Lizaveta and Anna Fedorovna were getting into the carriage, Hermann handed her a letter with a declaration of love. The girl wrote an answer and threw it to Hermann through the window. After this, letters began to arrive every day; the young man persistently asked for a date. At first the girl tore up these messages, but they were written so beautifully and passionately that after a while Lizaveta agreed. She wrote a letter to Hermann explaining how to get into her room during the old woman's absence.

The next day the girl and the countess left for the ball. At night, Hermann entered the house and waited there for their return. He went into Anna Feodorovna's office and waited for her to return and be left alone; After that, the man asked the old woman to tell him three secret cards. When she, despite requests, persuasion and even threats, refused, Hermann took out a pistol, which later turned out to be unloaded; At the sight of the weapon, the Countess falls into a chair and dies from severe fright.

Chapter 4

Lizaveta, meanwhile, is waiting for Hermann in the room; she remembers how Tomsky talked about his friend Hermann. Paul said that this man had at least three atrocities in his soul.

Hermann enters the girl’s room and tells her that he was with Anna Feodorovna and is responsible for her death. Lizaveta realizes that the young man needed the meeting with her for the sake of enrichment, and feels like an unwitting accomplice in the murder of the old woman. The girl is surprised by Hermann’s resemblance to Napoleon. Lizaveta felt sorry for the man, and she, giving him the key to the door, explained how he could leave the house unnoticed.

Chapter 5

Three days later, the funeral service for Anna Fedorovna takes place in the monastery. Hermann approaches the coffin; When looking at the deceased, it seems to the man that she is looking at him with mockery. Moving away from the coffin, he loses consciousness.

Arriving home, the man drinks wine all day. At night, at a quarter to three, Hermann is awakened by a knock on the window. Someone enters his room; it turned out that it was the late Anna Feodorovna, dressed in a white dress. She says that she came to fulfill Hermann’s request. According to the old woman, the three cards are three, seven and ace; but the young man can win only if he bets on one card a day, and after that he never picks up cards and takes Lizaveta as his wife.

Chapter 6

Hermann kept thinking about the three mystical cards. By coincidence, Chekalinsky, who was a famous Moscow card player, came to St. Petersburg. Hermann bet a large amount on three and won forty-seven thousand. All the players who were in the hall were surprised at this success and waited for the successful player to return. The next day he bets on seven and wins ninety-four thousand; After receiving the money, the man calmly walked away. On the third day, Chekalinsky deals out the ace and queen of spades. Hermann says that the queen has been beaten by his ace; however, on looking at the cards, he found that he had drawn a queen, and could not understand how he had confused it with an ace. It seems to him that the Queen of Spades is grinning, looking at him with narrowed eyes. Hermann screams in horror: “Old woman!”

The story “The Queen of Spades” by Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin was written in 1833. In 1834, the work was first published in the second issue of the Library for Reading. You can read a summary of “The Queen of Spades” chapter by chapter to prepare for a literature lesson or to familiarize yourself with the work directly on our website.

“The Queen of Spades” by Pushkin was written in the traditions of the literary movement of realism. The idea and plot of the work were suggested to the writer by the young Prince Golitsyn, who was somehow able to win back by betting, on the advice of his grandmother N.P. Golitsina, on three cards during the game. Golitsina at one time, Saint-Germain himself suggested these cards.

Main characters

Hermann- a military engineer, the son of a Russified German, who inherited a small capital, was “secretive and ambitious.”

Lizaveta Ivanovna- a young lady, a poor pupil of the Countess***.

Countess ***- an eighty-year-old woman, Tomsky’s grandmother, who knows the “secret of three winning cards”, is the personification of fate in the story.

Other characters

Paul Tomsky- grandson of the old Countess ***, friend of Hermann.

Chekalinsky- a sixty-year-old man, a famous Moscow player.

Narumov- Horse Guardsman, friend of Tomsky and German.

Chapter 1

“Once we were playing cards with the horse guard Narumov.” Conducting small talk after the game, the men are surprised by one of those present - Hermann, who had been watching the others play all evening, but did not play himself. The man replied that his game was very busy, but he was not able to “sacrifice what is necessary in the hope of acquiring what is superfluous.”

One of the guests, Tomsky, noticed that Hermann was German, and therefore prudent and his attitude to the game was easily explainable. What really surprised Paul was why his grandmother Anna Fedotovna was not playing.

Sixty years ago, while in Paris, she lost a very large sum to the Duke of Orleans at court. The husband categorically refused to pay Anna Fedotovna’s debt, so she decided to turn to the rich Saint Germain. The “old eccentric,” instead of lending money, revealed to the woman the secret of three cards, which would certainly help you win if you bet on them in a row. That same evening, the woman completely recouped, but after this incident the Countess did not reveal the secret to anyone. The guests reacted to this story with disbelief.

Chapter 2

Countess ***, Tomsky’s grandmother, “was capricious, like a woman spoiled by the world, stingy and immersed in cold selfishness, like all old people who have fallen out of love in their age and are alien to the present.” The constant victim of the old woman’s reproaches and whims was her pupil, young lady Lizaveta - “a most unfortunate creature.” The girl accompanied the old woman everywhere, at balls she “sat in the corner, like an ugly and necessary decoration of the ballroom,” “she played the most pitiful role in the world. Everyone knew her and no one noticed,” so the young lady patiently waited for her “deliverer.”

A few days after the evening at Narumov’s, a young engineer appeared near Lizaveta’s window, whom the girl noticed sitting by the window at her hoop. “From that time on, not a day passed without a young man, at a certain hour, appearing under the windows of their house.” A week later, Lizaveta smiled at him for the first time.

This secret admirer was Hermann. Tomsky’s story about the cards “strongly affected his imagination,” so Hermann decided that he must definitely find out the countess’s secret. One day, while walking around St. Petersburg, a man accidentally comes to her house. After this, Hermann had a dream about how “he played card after card, bent the corners decisively, won constantly, and raked in gold for himself, and put banknotes in his pocket.” In the morning, the man again comes to the countess’s house and sees Lizaveta in the window - “that minute decided his fate.”

Chapter 3

Lizaveta receives a letter from a secret admirer in which he confesses his love for her. The young lady writes a response and returns Hermann’s message, throwing him a letter outside through the window. But this did not stop Hermann - he began sending letters to the girl every day, asking for a date. Finally, Lizaveta gave in, throwing him a message through the window, in which she explained how to quietly come to her room at night while the countess was at the ball.

Having entered the countess's house at night, Hermann hid in the office leading to the countess's room. When the old woman was left alone, the man came out to her. Asking the countess not to shout, he explained that he had come to find out the secret of the three cards. Seeing that the old woman did not want to share the secret with him, the man took out a pistol (as it later turned out, unloaded). Frightened by the sight of the weapon, the Countess dies.

Chapter 4

Lizaveta, sitting at this time in her room waiting for Hermann, recalls the words of Tomsky, with which he described his friend (Hermann) with “the profile of Napoleon and the soul of Mephistopheles” at the ball: “this man has at least three atrocities in his soul.”

Then Herman himself comes to her and tells her that he was with the countess and was responsible for her death. The girl understands that the man was actually looking for a meeting with her for the sake of enrichment, and she, in fact, is the killer’s assistant. Lizaveta is struck by the man’s resemblance to Napoleon. In the morning the man secretly leaves the house.

Chapter 5

Three days later, Hermann went to the monastery, where the countess was buried. When he approached the coffin and looked at the deceased, it seemed to him that “the dead woman looked at him mockingly, squinting with one eye.” Stepping back, Hermann fainted.

At night, the man woke up at a quarter to three and heard someone first knocking on his window and then entering the room. It was a woman in a white dress - the late countess. She said that she came to him not of her own free will, but to fulfill his request. The Countess revealed the secret of three cards - “three, seven and ace”, but made a reservation that the man would win only on condition that he “did not bet more than one card per day”, after that he would not play for the rest of his life and would marry Lizaveta.

Chapter 6

These three cards could not leave Hermann's head. Just at this time, the famous player Chekalinsky arrived in St. Petersburg. Hermann decides to play with Chekalinsky and for the first time, betting 47 thousand on three, wins. Having received the winnings, he immediately went home.

The next day, Hermann bet all his money on seven. Having won 94 thousand, the man “with composure and at that very moment left.” On the third day, Chekalinsky dealt the queen of spades and the ace. Hermann, exclaiming that his ace had beaten the queen, suddenly looked closer and saw that he had actually drawn the queen: “At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades squinted and grinned. The extraordinary resemblance struck him... - Old woman! - he shouted in horror."

Conclusion

After the incident, Hermann went crazy and ended up in the Obukhov hospital. Lizaveta married the son of the countess's former steward.

Conclusion

In the story “The Queen of Spades”, Pushkin for the first time in Russian literature touched upon the topic of crime, atrocity against a person. The author showed that evil always begets evil, leading to alienation from society and gradually killing the person in the criminal.

A brief retelling of “The Queen of Spades” allows you to quickly familiarize yourself with the content of the story, as well as refresh your memory of the main events, however, for a better understanding of the work, we recommend reading the story in its entirety.

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And on rainy days
They were going
Often;
They bent - God forgive them! –
From fifty
One hundred
And they won
And they unsubscribed
Chalk.
So, on rainy days,
They were studying
Business.

-What did you do, Surin? - asked the owner.

- Lost, as usual. “I must admit that I’m unhappy: I play as a mirandole, I never get excited, nothing can confuse me, but I keep losing!”

“And you’ve never been tempted?” never put it on the root?.. Your hardness is amazing to me.

- What is Hermann like? - said one of the guests, pointing to the young engineer, - he hasn’t picked up cards in his life, he hasn’t forgotten a single password in his life, and until five o’clock he sits with us and watches our game!

“The game occupies me greatly,” said Hermann, “but I am not able to sacrifice what is necessary in the hope of acquiring what is superfluous.”

– Hermann is German: he is calculating, that’s all! - Tomsky noted. – And if anyone is unclear to me, it’s my grandmother, Countess Anna Fedotovna.

- How? What? - the guests shouted.

“I can’t understand,” continued Tomsky, “how my grandmother doesn’t show off!”

“What’s so surprising,” said Narumov, “that an eighty-year-old woman doesn’t show off?”

- So you don’t know anything about her?

- No! right, nothing!

- Oh, so listen:

You need to know that my grandmother, sixty years ago, went to Paris and was in great fashion there. People ran after her to see la Venus moscovite [Moscow Venus]; Richelieu trailed after her, and the grandmother assures that he almost shot himself because of her cruelty.

At that time, ladies played pharaoh. Once at court, she lost something very much to the Duke of Orleans at his word. Arriving home, the grandmother, peeling the flies off her face and untying her hoops, announced to her grandfather that she had lost and ordered him to pay.

My late grandfather, as far as I remember, was my grandmother's butler. He was afraid of her like fire; however, upon hearing about such a terrible loss, he lost his temper, brought the bills, proved to her that in six months they had spent half a million, that they had neither a village near Moscow nor Saratov near Paris, and completely refused payment. The grandmother slapped him in the face and went to bed alone, as a sign of her disfavor.

The next day she ordered to call her husband, hoping that the home punishment had an effect on him, but she found him unshakable. For the first time in her life, she reached the point of reasoning and explanation with him; I thought to reassure him, condescendingly proving that debt is different and that there is a difference between a prince and a coachman. - Where! grandfather rebelled. No, yes and only! Grandma didn't know what to do.

She was briefly acquainted with a very remarkable man. You have heard about Count Saint-Germain, about whom they tell so many wonderful things. You know that he pretended to be the Eternal Zh.da, the inventor of the life elixir and the philosopher's stone, and so on. They laughed at him as a charlatan, and Casanova in his Notes says that he was a spy; however, Saint-Germain, despite his mystery, had a very respectable appearance and was a very amiable person in society. Grandmother still loves him deeply and gets angry if they talk about him with disrespect. Grandmother knew that Saint Germain could have a lot of money. She decided to resort to him. She wrote him a note and asked him to come to her immediately.

The old eccentric appeared immediately and found him in terrible grief. She described to him in the darkest colors the barbarity of her husband and finally said that she placed all her hope in his friendship and courtesy.

Saint Germain thought about it.

“I can serve you with this amount,” he said, “but I know that you will not be calm until you pay me, and I would not want to introduce you into new troubles. There is another remedy: you can win back.” “But, dear Count,” answered the grandmother, “I tell you that we have no money at all.” “Money is not needed here,” Saint-Germain objected: “if you please listen to me.” Then he revealed to her a secret for which any of us would give dearly...

Young players have doubled their attention. Tomsky lit his pipe, took a drag and continued.

That same evening the grandmother appeared at Versailles, au jeu de la Reine. Duke of Orleans metal; Grandma slightly apologized for not bringing her debt, weaved a little story to justify it and began to pontificate against him. She chose three cards, played them one after another: all three won her Sonic, and the grandmother won back completely.

- Chance! - said one of the guests.

- Fairy tale! – Hermann noted.

– Maybe powder cards? – picked up the third.

“I don’t think so,” Tomsky answered importantly.

- How! - said Narumov, - you have a grandmother who guesses three cards in a row, and you still haven’t learned her cabalistics from her?

- Yes, the hell with it! - answered Tomsky, - she had four sons, including my father: all four were desperate gamblers, and she did not reveal her secret to any of them; although it would not be bad for them and even for me. But this is what my uncle, Count Ivan Ilyich, told me, and what he assured me of on his honor. The late Chaplitsky, the same one who died in poverty, having squandered millions, once in his youth lost - Zorich remembers - about three hundred thousand. He was desperate. Grandmother, who was always strict with the pranks of young people, somehow took pity on Chaplitsky. She gave him three cards so that he would play them one after another, and took his word of honor never to play again. Chaplitsky appeared to his winner: they sat down to play. Chaplitsky bet fifty thousand on the first card and won Sonic; I forgot the passwords, passwords, no, - I won back and still won...

“But it’s time to go to bed: it’s already a quarter to six.”

In fact, it was already dawn: the young people finished their glasses and left.

A. S. Pushkin “The Queen of Spades”. Audiobook

II

– II parait que monsieur est decisionment pourles suivantes.
- Que voulez-vus, madame? Elles sont plus fraiches.
Small talk.

The old Countess *** was sitting in her dressing room in front of the mirror. Three girls surrounded her. One was holding a jar of rouge, another a box of hairpins, the third a tall cap with fiery-colored ribbons. The Countess did not have the slightest pretension to beauty, which had long since faded, but she retained all the habits of her youth, strictly followed the fashions of the seventies and dressed just as long, just as diligently, as she had done sixty years ago. A young lady, her pupil, was sitting at the window at the hoop.

“Hello, grand" maman,” said the young officer as he entered. “Bon jour, mademoiselle Lise. Grand” maman, I come to you with a request.

– What is it, Paul?

- Let me introduce one of my friends and bring him to your place on Friday for the ball.

“Bring him to me straight to the ball, and then introduce him to me.” Were you at ***'s yesterday?

- Of course! it was a lot of fun; They danced until five o'clock. How good Yeletskaya was!

- And, my dear! What's good about it? Was this what her grandmother, Princess Daria Petrovna, was like?.. By the way: I guess she’s gotten very old, Princess Daria Petrovna?

- How, have you aged? - Tomsky answered absentmindedly, “she died seven years ago.” The young lady raised her head and made a sign to the young man. He remembered that from the old

The countess concealed the death of her peers, and bit his lip. But the countess heard the news, new to her, with great indifference.

- She died! - she said, - but I didn’t even know! Together we were granted maid of honor, and when we introduced ourselves, the Empress...

And the countess told her grandson her joke for the hundredth time.

“Well, Paul,” she said later, “now help me get up.” Lizanka, where is my snuff box?

And the countess and her girls went behind the screens to finish their toilet. Tomsky stayed with the young lady.

– Who do you want to introduce? – Lizaveta Ivanovna asked quietly.

- Narumova. Do you know him?

- No! Is he a military man or a civilian?

- Military.

- Engineer?

- No! cavalryman Why did you think he was an engineer? The young lady laughed and did not answer a word.

– Paul! - the countess shouted from behind the screens, - send me some new novel, but please, not one of the current ones.

- How is it, grand maman?

– That is, a novel where the hero does not crush either his father or mother and where there are no drowned bodies. I'm terribly afraid of drowning!

– There are no such novels nowadays. Don't you want Russians?

– Are there really Russian novels?.. They came, father, please, they came!

- Sorry, grand "maman: I'm in a hurry... Sorry, Lizaveta Ivanovna! Why do you think that Narumov is an engineer?

- And Tomsky left the restroom.

Lizaveta Ivanovna was left alone: she left work and began to look out the window. Soon a young officer appeared on one side of the street from behind a coal house. A blush covered her cheeks: she began to work again and bent her head just above the canvas. At this time the Countess entered, fully dressed.

“Order, Lizanka,” she said, “to lay the carriage, and we’ll go for a walk.” Lizanka stood up from the hoop and began to clean up her work.

- What are you talking about, my mother! Deaf or something! - the countess shouted. “Tell me to lay the carriage as soon as possible.”

- Now! - the young lady answered quietly and ran into the hallway. The servant entered and handed the countess books from Prince Pavel Alexandrovich.

- Fine! “Thank you,” said the Countess. - Lizanka, Lizanka! where are you running to?

- Dress.

- You will have time, mother. Sit here. Open the first volume; read aloud... The young lady took the book and read a few lines.

- Louder! - said the countess. - What's wrong with you, my mother? Did you sleep with your voice, or what?.. Wait: move the bench closer to me... well!

Lizaveta Ivanovna read two more pages. The Countess yawned.

“Throw away this book,” she said. - What nonsense! Send this to Prince Pavel and tell him to thank him... But what about the carriage?

“The carriage is ready,” said Lizaveta Ivanovna, looking at the street.

- Why aren’t you dressed? - said the countess, - we must always wait for you! This, mother, is unbearable.

Lisa ran to her room. Less than two minutes later, the Countess began ringing with all her might. Three girls ran through one door, and the valet through another.

- Why can’t you get through? - the countess told them. – Tell Lizaveta Ivanovna that I’m waiting for her.

Lizaveta Ivanovna came in wearing a hood and a hat.

- Finally, my mother! - said the countess. - What kind of outfits! Why is this?.. Who should I seduce?.. What’s the weather like? - It seems like the wind.

- No, sir, your Excellency! very quiet, sir! - answered the valet.

– You always speak at random! Open the window. That's right: wind! and very cold! Put aside the carriage! Lizanka, we won’t go: there was no point in dressing up.

“And this is my life!” – thought Lizaveta Ivanovna.

Indeed, Lizaveta Ivanovna was a very unhappy creature. Someone else’s bread is bitter, says Dante, and the steps of someone else’s porch are heavy, and who knows the bitterness of dependence if not the poor pupil of a noble old woman? Countess ***, of course, did not have an evil soul; but she was capricious, like a woman spoiled by the world, stingy and immersed in cold selfishness, like all old people who have fallen out of love in their age and are alien to the present. She took part in all the vanities of the big world, dragged herself to balls, where she sat in the corner, flushed and dressed in ancient fashion, like an ugly and necessary decoration of the ballroom; Arriving guests approached her with low bows, as if according to an established ritual, and then no one took care of her. She hosted the whole city, observing strict etiquette and not recognizing anyone by sight. Her numerous servants, having grown fat and gray in her anteroom and maid's room, did what they wanted, vying with each other to rob the dying old woman. Lizaveta Ivanovna was a domestic martyr. She spilled tea and was reprimanded for wasting too much sugar; she read novels aloud and was to blame for all the author’s mistakes; she accompanied the countess on her walks and was responsible for the weather and the pavement. She was given a salary that was never paid; and yet they demanded that she dress like everyone else, that is, like very few others. In the world she played the most pathetic role. Everyone knew her and no one noticed; at balls she danced only when there was not enough vis-a-vis, and the ladies took her arm every time they needed to go to the restroom to fix something in their outfit. She was proud, keenly aware of her position and looked around her, impatiently awaiting a deliverer; but the young people, calculating in their flighty vanity, did not deign to pay her attention, although Lizaveta Ivanovna was a hundred times sweeter than the arrogant and cold brides around whom they hovered. How many times, quietly leaving the boring and luxurious living room, she went to cry in her poor room, where there were screens covered with wallpaper, a chest of drawers, a mirror and a painted bed, and where a tallow candle burned darkly in a copper candlestick!

Once - this happened two days after the evening described at the beginning of this story, and a week before the scene on which we stopped - one day Lizaveta Ivanovna, sitting under the window at her embroidery hoop, accidentally looked out onto the street and saw a young engineer standing motionless and fixed his eyes on her window. She lowered her head and went back to work; Five minutes later I looked again - the young officer was standing in the same place. Not having the habit of flirting with passing officers, she stopped looking at the street and sewed for about two hours without raising her head. They served dinner. She stood up, began to put away her embroidery hoop, and, accidentally looking at the street, saw the officer again. This seemed rather strange to her. After lunch, she went to the window with a feeling of some anxiety, but the officer was no longer there - and she forgot about him...

Two days later, going out with the countess to get into the carriage, she saw him again. He stood at the very entrance, covering his face with a beaver collar: his black eyes sparkled from under his hat. Lizaveta Ivanovna was frightened, without knowing why, and got into the carriage with inexplicable trepidation.

Returning home, she ran to the window - the officer stood in the same place, fixing his eyes on her: she walked away, tormented by curiosity and excited by a feeling that was completely new to her.

From that time on, not a day passed without a young man, at a certain hour, appearing under the windows of their house. Unconditional relations were established between him and her. Sitting in her place at work, she felt him approaching - she raised her head and looked at him longer and longer every day. The young man seemed to be grateful to her for this: she saw with the sharp eyes of youth how a quick blush covered his pale cheeks every time their gazes met. A week later she smiled at him...

When Tomsky asked permission to introduce his friend to the countess, the poor girl’s heart began to beat. But having learned that Naumov was not an engineer, but a horse guardsman, she regretted that she had expressed her secret to the flighty Tomsky with an indiscreet question.

Hermann was the son of a Russified German, who left him a small capital. Firmly convinced of the need to strengthen his independence, Hermann did not even touch interest, lived on his salary alone, and did not allow himself the slightest whim. However, he was secretive and ambitious, and his comrades rarely had the opportunity to laugh at his excessive frugality. He had strong passions and a fiery imagination, but firmness saved him from the ordinary delusions of youth. So, for example, being a gambler at heart, he never took cards in his hands, because he calculated that his condition did not allow him (as he said) to sacrifice what was necessary in the hope of acquiring what was superfluous - and yet he sat whole nights at the card tables and followed with feverish trepidation at the various turns of the game.

The anecdote about the three cards had a strong effect on his imagination and did not leave his head the whole night. “What if,” he thought the next evening, wandering around St. Petersburg, “what if the old countess reveals her secret to me! - or assign me these three correct cards! Why not try happiness?.. Introduce yourself to her, win her favor—perhaps become her lover, but this takes time—and she is eighty-seven years old—she could die in a week—yes, in two days!.. And the joke itself?.. Can you believe it?.. No! calculation, moderation and hard work: these are my three true cards, this is what will triple, seventeen my capital and give me peace and independence!”

Reasoning in this way, he found himself in one of the main streets of St. Petersburg, in front of a house of ancient architecture. The street was lined with carriages; one after another, the carriages rolled towards the illuminated entrance. The slender leg of a young beauty, the rattling jackboot, the striped stocking and diplomatic shoe were constantly stretched out of the carriages. Fur coats and cloaks flashed past the majestic doorman. Hermann stopped.

- Whose is this house? – he asked the corner guard.

“Countess ***,” answered the guard.

Hermann trembled. The amazing anecdote again presented itself to his imagination. He began to walk around the house, thinking about its owner and her wonderful ability. He returned late to his humble corner; He could not fall asleep for a long time, and when sleep took possession of him, he dreamed of cards, a green table, piles of banknotes and piles of chervonets. He played card after card, bent the corners decisively, won constantly, and raked in gold and put banknotes in his pocket. Waking up already late, he sighed about the loss of his fantastic wealth, went back to wandering around the city and again found himself in front of the house of Countess ***. An unknown force seemed to attract him to him. He stopped and began to look at the windows. In one he saw a black-haired head, probably bent over a book or at work. The head rose. Hermann saw a face and black eyes. This minute decided his fate.

III

Vous m"ecrivez, mon ange, des lettres de quatre pages plus vite que je ne puis les lire.
Correspondence.

Only Lizaveta Ivanovna had time to take off her hood and hat when the countess sent for her and ordered the carriage to be brought again. They went to sit down. At the same time that two footmen lifted the old woman and pushed her through the door, Lizaveta Ivanovna saw her engineer at the very wheel; he grabbed her hand; She could not recover from her fright, the young man disappeared: the letter remained in her hand. She hid it behind her glove and didn’t hear or see anything the whole way. The Countess used to ask every minute in the carriage: who met us? – what is the name of this bridge? – what does it say on the sign? This time Lizaveta Ivanovna answered at random and out of place and angered the countess.

- What happened to you, my mother! You've got tetanus, haven't you? You either don’t hear me or don’t understand me?.. Thank God, I’m not lisping and I’m not out of my mind yet!

Lizaveta Ivanovna did not listen to her. Returning home, she ran to her room and took out a letter from behind her glove: it was not sealed. Lizaveta Ivanovna read it. The letter contained a declaration of love: it was tender, respectful and taken word for word from a German novel. But Lizaveta Ivanovna did not speak German and was very pleased with it.

However, the letter she received worried her extremely. For the first time she entered into secret, close relations with a young man. His insolence terrified her. She reproached herself for her careless behavior and did not know what to do: should she stop sitting at the window and, by inattention, cool the young officer’s desire for further persecution? – Should I send him a letter?

– should I answer coldly and decisively? She had no one to consult with, she had neither a friend nor a mentor. Lizaveta Ivanovna decided to answer.

She sat down at the desk, took a pen and paper, and thought. Several times she began her letter and tore it up: sometimes the expressions seemed to her too condescending, sometimes too cruel. Finally she managed to write a few lines with which she was satisfied. “I am sure,” she wrote, “that you have honest intentions and that you did not want to offend me with a rash act; but our acquaintance should not have begun this way. I return your letter to you and hope that in the future I will have no reason to complain about undeserved disrespect.”

The next day, seeing Hermann walking, Lizaveta Ivanovna stood up from behind the hoop, went out into the hall, opened the window and threw the letter onto the street, hoping for the agility of the young officer. Hermann ran up, picked it up and entered the candy store. Having torn off the seal, he found his letter and Lizaveta Ivanovna’s answer. He expected this and returned home, very busy with his intrigue.

Three days after that, a young, quick-eyed mamzel brought Lizaveta Ivanovna a note from a fashion store. Lizaveta Ivanovna opened it with concern, anticipating monetary demands, and suddenly recognized Hermann’s hand.

“You, darling, are mistaken,” she said, “this note is not for me.”

- No, definitely to you! - answered the brave girl, without hiding a sly smile. - Please read it!

Lizaveta Ivanovna scanned the note. Hermann demanded a meeting.

- Can't be! - said Lizaveta Ivanovna, frightened by both the haste of the demands and the method he used. - This is not written correctly to me! – And tore the letter into small pieces.

- If the letter is not for you, why did you tear it up? - said Mamzel, - I would return it to the one who sent it.

- Please, darling! - said Lizaveta Ivanovna, flushing at her remark, - don’t bring notes to me in advance. And tell the one who sent you that he should be ashamed...

But Hermann did not calm down. Lizaveta Ivanovna received letters from him every day, now in one way or another. They were no longer translated from German. Hermann wrote them, inspired by passion, and spoke in a language characteristic of him: it expressed both the inflexibility of his desires and the disorder of his unbridled imagination. Lizaveta Ivanovna no longer thought of sending them away: she reveled in them; She began to answer them, and her notes became longer and more tender hour by hour. Finally, she threw the following letter to him through the window:

“Today is the ball at the *** envoy. The Countess will be there. We'll stay until two o'clock. Here's your chance to see me alone. As soon as the countess leaves, her people will probably disperse, the doorman will remain in the entryway, but he usually goes to his closet. Come at half past eleven. Go straight to the stairs. If you find someone in the hallway, you will ask if the countess is at home. They will tell you no, and there is nothing to do. You will have to turn back. But you probably won't meet anyone. The girls are sitting at home, all in one room. From the hall, go left, go straight all the way to the countess's bedroom. In the bedroom behind the screens you will see two small doors: on the right to the office, where the Countess never enters; on the left into the corridor, and then there is a narrow twisted staircase: it leads to my room.”

Hermann trembled like a tiger, waiting for the appointed time. At ten o'clock in the evening he was already standing in front of the countess's house. The weather was terrible: the wind howled, wet snow fell in flakes; the lanterns shone dimly; the streets were empty. From time to time Vanka stretched out on his skinny nag, looking out for a belated rider. – Hermann stood in only his frock coat, feeling neither wind nor snow. Finally the countess's carriage was delivered. Hermann saw how the lackeys carried out a hunched old woman, wrapped in a sable fur coat, and how after her, in a cold cloak, with her head covered with fresh flowers, her pupil flashed. The doors slammed shut. The carriage rolled heavily through the loose snow. The doorman locked the doors. The windows went dark. Hermann began to walk around the empty house: he went up to the lantern, looked at his watch - it was twenty minutes past eleven. Hermann stepped onto the countess's porch and entered the brightly lit entryway. There was no doorman. Hermann ran up the stairs, opened the doors to the hallway and saw a servant sleeping under a lamp in an old, stained armchair. With a light and firm step, Hermann walked past him. The hall and living room were dark. The lamp dimly illuminated them from the hallway. Hermann entered the bedroom. In front of the ark, filled with ancient images, a golden lamp glowed. Faded damask armchairs and sofas with down pillows, with faded gilding, stood in sad symmetry near the walls covered with Chinese wallpaper. On the wall hung two portraits painted in Paris by Mme Lebrun. One of them depicted a man of about forty, ruddy and plump, in a light green uniform and with a star; the other - a young beauty with an aquiline nose, combed temples and a rose in her powdered hair. Porcelain shepherdesses, table clocks made by the famous Gegou, boxes, roulettes, fans and various ladies' toys, invented at the end of the last century together with the Montgolfier ball and Mesmerian magnetism, stuck out in all corners. Hermann went behind the screen. Behind them stood a small iron bed; on the right there was a door leading to the office; on the left, the other - in the corridor. Hermann opened it and saw a narrow, twisted staircase that led to the poor pupil’s room... But he turned back and entered the dark office.

Time passed slowly. Everything was quiet. Twelve struck in the living room; in all the rooms the clocks, one after another, rang twelve, and everything fell silent again. Hermann stood leaning against the cold stove. He was calm; his heart beat evenly, like that of a man who had decided to do something dangerous, but necessary. The clock struck one and two o'clock in the morning, and he heard the distant knock of a carriage. Involuntary excitement took possession of him. The carriage drove up and stopped. He heard the sound of the running board being lowered. There was a fuss in the house. People ran, voices were heard and the house lit up. Three old maids ran into the bedroom, and the countess, barely alive, entered and sank into the Voltaire chairs. Hermann looked through the crack: Lizaveta Ivanovna passed by him. Hermann heard her hurried steps along the steps of the stairs. Something like remorse responded in his heart and fell silent again. He was petrified.

The Countess began to undress in front of the mirror. They tore off her cap, decorated with roses; They took off the powdered wig from her gray and closely cropped head. Pins rained down around her. A yellow dress embroidered with silver fell to her swollen feet. Hermann witnessed the disgusting mysteries of her toilet; finally, the countess remained in her sleeping jacket and nightcap: in this outfit, more characteristic of her old age, she seemed less terrible and ugly.

Like all old people in general, the countess suffered from insomnia. Having undressed, she sat down by the window in a Voltaire chair and sent the maids away. The candles were taken out, the room was again illuminated by one lamp. The Countess sat all yellow, moving her drooping lips, swaying left and right. Her dull eyes depicted a complete absence of thought; looking at her, one would think that the swaying of the terrible old woman occurred not from her will, but from the action of hidden galvanism.

Suddenly this dead face changed inexplicably. The lips stopped moving, the eyes perked up: an unfamiliar man stood in front of the countess.

– Don’t be scared, for God’s sake, don’t be scared! – he said in a clear and quiet voice. – I have no intention of harming you; I have come to beg you for one favor.

The old woman looked at him silently and did not seem to hear him. Hermann imagined that she was deaf, and, bending over her ear, repeated the same thing to her. The old woman remained silent as before.

“You can,” continued Hermann, “make up the happiness of my life, and it won’t cost you anything: I know that you can guess three cards in a row...

Hermann stopped. The Countess seemed to understand what was required of her; she seemed to be searching for words for her answer.

It was a joke,” she finally said, “I swear to you!” it was a joke!

“This is nothing to joke about,” Hermann objected angrily. – Remember Chaplitsky, whom you helped to win back.

The Countess was apparently embarrassed. Her features depicted a strong movement of the soul, but she soon fell into her former insensibility.

“Can you,” continued Hermann, “assign me these three correct cards?” The Countess was silent; Hermann continued:

– For whom should you keep your secret? For grandchildren? They are rich without that: they don’t even know the value of money. Your three cards won't help Mot. He who does not know how to take care of his father's inheritance will still die in poverty, despite any demonic efforts. I'm not a spendthrift; I know the value of money. Your three cards will not be lost to me. Well!..

He stopped and waited with trepidation for her answer. The Countess was silent; Hermann knelt down.

“If ever,” he said, “your heart knew the feeling of love, if you remember its delights, if you ever smiled when your newborn son cried, if anything human ever beat in your chest, then I beg you with my feelings spouses, lovers, mothers - everything that is sacred in life - do not refuse me my request! - tell me your secret! - what do you want in it?.. Perhaps it is associated with terrible sin, with the destruction of eternal bliss, with a devilish pact... Think: you are old; You don’t have long to live, I’m ready to take your sin upon my soul. Just tell me your secret. Think that a person's happiness is in your hands; that not only me, but also my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will bless your memory and honor it as a shrine...

The old woman did not answer a word. Hermann stood up.

- Old witch! - he said, gritting his teeth, - so I’ll make you answer... With these words, he took a pistol out of his pocket.

At the sight of the pistol the Countess had a strong feeling for the second time. She nodded her head and raised her hand, as if shielding herself from the shot... Then she rolled backwards... and remained motionless.

“Stop being childish,” Hermann said, taking her hand. – I ask for the last time: do you want to assign me your three cards? - Yes or no?

The Countess did not answer. Hermann saw that she had died.

IV

7 May 18**. Homme sans moeurs et sans religion!
Correspondence.

Lizaveta Ivanovna was sitting in her room, still in her ball gown, immersed in deep thoughts. Arriving home, she hurried to send away the sleepy girl who was reluctantly offering her her service - she said that she would undress herself, and with trepidation she entered her room, hoping to find Hermann there and wishing not to find him. At first glance she was convinced of his absence and thanked fate for the obstacle that had prevented their meeting. She sat down without undressing and began to recall all the circumstances that had carried her so far in such a short time. Less than three weeks had passed since she first saw the young man through the window - and she was already in correspondence with him - and he managed to demand a night date from her! She knew his name only because some of his letters were signed by him; I never spoke to him, never heard his voice, never heard of him... until this very evening. Strange affair! That very evening, at the ball, Tomsky, sulking at the young princess Polina ***, who, contrary to usual, was not flirting with him, wanted to take revenge, showing indifference: he called Lizaveta Ivanovna and - No, just to you! - answered the brave girl, without hiding a sly smile. - Please read! p danced an endless mazurka with her. All the time he joked about her passion for engineering officers, assured that he knew much more than she could have imagined, and some of his jokes were so well directed that Lizaveta Ivanovna thought several times that her secret was known to him.

– From whom do you know all this? – she asked, laughing.

“From a friend of a person you know,” answered Tomsky, “a very wonderful person!”

-Who is this wonderful person?

- His name is Hermann.

Lizaveta Ivanovna did not answer anything, but her arms and legs froze...

“This Hermann,” continued Tomsky, “is a truly romantic face: he has the profile of Napoleon, and the soul of Mephistopheles.” I think he has at least three crimes on his conscience. How pale you have become!..

My head hurts... What did Hermann, or whatever you call him, tell you?..

Hermann is very dissatisfied with his friend: he says that in his place he would have acted completely differently... I even believe that Hermann himself has designs on you, at least he very much listens to the loving exclamations of his friend.

- Where did he see me?

- In church, maybe for a walk!.. God knows! maybe in your room, while you sleep: it will make you...

Three ladies approached them with questions - oubli ou regret? - they interrupted the conversation, which was becoming painfully curious for Lizaveta Ivanovna.

The lady chosen by Tomsky was Princess *** herself. She managed to explain herself to him by running an extra circle and spinning around in front of her chair one more time. - Tomsky, returning to his place, no longer thought about Hermann or Lizaveta Ivanovna. She certainly wanted to resume the interrupted conversation; but the mazurka ended, and soon after the old countess left.

Tomsky’s words were nothing more than mazurochka chatter, but they sank deeply into the soul of the young dreamer. The portrait sketched by Tomsky was similar to the image she had drawn up herself, and, thanks to the latest novels, this already vulgar face frightened and captivated her imagination. She sat with her bare arms folded in a cross, her head, still adorned with flowers, bowed on her open chest... Suddenly the door opened and Hermann entered. She trembled...

-Where have you been? – she asked in a frightened whisper.

“In the old countess’s bedroom,” answered Hermann, “I’m leaving her now.” The Countess died.

- My God!.., what are you saying?..

“And it seems,” Hermann continued, “I am the cause of her death.”

Lizaveta Ivanovna looked at him and Tomsky’s words resounded in her soul: this man has at least three crimes in his soul! Hermann sat down on the window next to her and told everything.

Lizaveta Ivanovna listened to him with horror. So, these passionate letters, these fiery demands, this daring, persistent pursuit, all this was not love! Money - that’s what his soul yearned for! It was not she who could satisfy his desires and make him happy! The poor pupil was nothing more than the blind assistant of the robber, the murderer of her old benefactress!.. She cried bitterly in her late, painful repentance. Hermann looked at her in silence: his heart was also tormented, but neither the tears of the poor girl nor the amazing beauty of her sorrow disturbed his stern soul. He felt no remorse at the thought of the dead old woman. One thing terrified him: the irretrievable loss of a secret from which he expected enrichment.

- You are a monster! - Lizaveta Ivanovna finally said.

“I didn’t want her to die,” Hermann answered, “my pistol is not loaded.” They fell silent.

Morning was coming. Lizaveta Ivanovna extinguished the dying candle: a pale light illuminated her room. She wiped her tear-stained eyes and raised them to Hermann: he was sitting on the window, arms folded and frowning menacingly. In this position, he surprisingly resembled a portrait of Napoleon. This similarity struck even Lizaveta Ivanovna.

How do you get out of the house? - Lizaveta Ivanovna finally said. “I thought I’d take you down the secret staircase, but I have to go past the bedroom, and I’m afraid.”

– Tell me how to find this hidden staircase; I `ll exit.

Lizaveta Ivanovna stood up, took a key from the chest of drawers, handed it to Hermann and gave him detailed instructions. Hermann shook her cold, unresponsive hand, kissed her bowed head and left.

He went down the winding staircase and entered the countess's bedroom again. The dead old woman sat petrified; her face expressed deep calm. Hermann stopped in front of her and looked at her for a long time, as if wanting to ascertain the terrible truth; Finally he entered the office, felt behind the wallpaper the door and began to go down the dark stairs, agitated by strange feelings. Along these very stairs, he thought, maybe sixty years ago, into this very bedroom, at the same hour, in an embroidered caftan, combed a l "oiseau royal, clutching a triangular hat to his heart, a young lucky man, long since decayed in the grave, crept , and the heart of his elderly mistress stopped beating today...

Under the stairs, Hermann found a door, which he unlocked with the same key, and found himself in a through corridor that led him out into the street.

V

That night the deceased Baroness von V*** appeared to me. She was all in white and said to me: “Hello, Mr. Councilor!”
Swedenborg.

Three days after the fateful night, at nine o’clock in the morning, Hermann went to the *** monastery, where the funeral service for the body of the deceased countess was to be held. Without feeling repentance, he could not, however, completely drown out the voice of his conscience, which kept telling him: you are the murderer of the old woman! Having little true faith, he had many prejudices. He believed that the dead countess could have a harmful influence on his life - and decided to attend her funeral to ask her forgiveness.

The church was full. Hermann could force his way through the crowd of people. The coffin stood on a rich hearse under a velvet canopy. The deceased lay in it with her hands folded on her chest, wearing a lace cap and a white satin dress. Her household stood around: servants in black caftans with coat of arms ribbons on their shoulders and with candles in their hands; relatives in deep mourning - children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Nobody cried; there would be tears - une affectation. The Countess was so old that her death could not strike anyone and that her relatives had long looked at her as if she had become obsolete. The young bishop pronounced the funeral eulogy. In simple and touching terms, he presented the peaceful dormition of the righteous woman, for whom many years had been a quiet, touching preparation for her Christian death. “The angel of death found her,” said the speaker, “watchful in good thoughts and in anticipation of the midnight bridegroom.” The service was performed with sad decorum. The relatives were the first to go to say goodbye to the body. Then the numerous guests moved, who had come to bow to the one who had been a participant in their vain amusements for so long. After them, everyone is home. Finally, an old noble lady, the same age as the deceased, approached. Two young girls led her by the arms. She was unable to bow down to the ground, and alone shed a few tears, kissing her mistress’s cold hand. After her, Hermann decided to approach the coffin. He bowed to the ground and lay for several minutes on the cold floor strewn with spruce trees. Finally he stood up, as pale as the dead woman herself, climbed onto the steps of the hearse and bent down...

At that moment it seemed to him that the dead woman looked at him mockingly, squinting with one eye. Hermann hastily backed up, stumbled and fell backwards on the ground. They picked him up. At the same time, Lizaveta Ivanovna was carried out, fainting, to the porch. This episode disturbed for several minutes the solemnity of the gloomy ritual. A dull murmur arose among the visitors, and the thin chamberlain, a close relative of the deceased, whispered in the ear of the Englishman standing next to him that the young officer was her natural son, to which the Englishman answered coldly: Oh?

The whole day Hermann was extremely upset. While dining in a secluded tavern, he, contrary to his custom, drank a lot, in the hope of drowning out his inner excitement. But the wine fired his imagination even more. Returning home, he threw himself on the bed without undressing and fell fast asleep.

He woke up at night: the moon illuminated his room. He looked at his watch: it was a quarter to three. His sleep passed; he sat down on the bed and thought about the funeral of the old countess.

At this time, someone from the street looked into his window and immediately walked away. Hermann did not pay any attention to this. A minute later he heard the door in the front room being unlocked. Hermann thought that his orderly, drunk as usual, was returning from a night walk. But he heard an unfamiliar gait: someone was walking, quietly shuffling their shoes. The door opened and a woman in a white dress entered. Hermann mistook her for his old nurse and wondered what could have brought her to such a time. But the white woman, gliding, suddenly found herself in front of him - and Hermann recognized the countess!

“I came to you against my will,” she said in a firm voice, “but I was ordered to fulfill your request.” Three, seven and ace will win you in a row - but so that you do not bet more than one card per day and so that you do not play for the rest of your life. I forgive you my death, so that you marry my pupil Lizaveta Ivanovna...

With that word, she quietly turned, walked to the door and disappeared, shuffling with her shoes. Hermann heard the door slam in the hallway and saw that someone was looking out the window at him again.

For a long time Hermann could not come to his senses. He went into another room. His orderly was sleeping on the floor; Hermann forcibly woke him up. The orderly was drunk as usual: it was impossible to get any sense out of him. The door to the hallway was locked. Hermann returned to his room, lit a candle there and wrote down his vision.

VI

Atande!
How dare you tell me atanda?
Your Excellency, I said atande, sir!

Two immovable ideas cannot exist together in moral nature, just as two bodies cannot occupy the same place in the physical world. Three, seven, ace - soon obscured the image of the dead old woman in Hermann’s imagination. Three, seven, ace - did not leave his head and moved on his lips. Seeing a young girl, he said: “How slim she is!.. A real three of red.” They asked him: “What time is it?”, he answered: “It’s five minutes to seven.” Every pot-bellied man reminded him of an ace. Three, seven, ace - haunted him in a dream, taking on all possible forms: the three bloomed in front of him in the form of a lush grandiflora, the seven was represented by a Gothic gate, the ace as a huge spider. All his thoughts merged into one - to take advantage of a secret that cost him dearly. He began to think about retirement and travel. He wanted to force the treasure from the enchanted fortune in the open houses of Paris. The incident spared him the trouble.

In Moscow, a society of rich gamblers was formed, under the chairmanship of the famous Chekalinsky, who spent his entire century playing cards and once made millions, winning bills and losing pure money. His long-term experience earned him the trust of his comrades, and his open house, good cook, affection and cheerfulness gained the respect of the public. He arrived in St. Petersburg. Young people rushed to him, forgetting balls for cards and preferring the temptations of the pharaoh to the seductions of red tape. Narumov brought Hermann to him.

They passed a series of magnificent rooms filled with courteous waiters. Several generals and privy councilors were playing whist; young people sat lounging on damask sofas, eating ice cream and smoking pipes. In the living room, at a long table, around which about twenty players were crowded, the owner was sitting and throwing a bank. He was a man of about sixty, of the most respectable appearance; the head was covered with silver gray hair; his plump and fresh face portrayed good nature; his eyes sparkled, enlivened by his ever-present smile. Narumov introduced Hermann to him. Chekalinsky shook his hand in a friendly manner, asked him not to stand on ceremony and continued to throw.

Talya lasted a long time. There were more than thirty cards on the table. Chekalinsky stopped after each play to give the players time to decide, wrote down the loss, politely listened to their demands, and even more politely folded back the extra corner that had been bent by an absent-minded hand. Finally the tallya is over. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards and prepared to throw another.

“Let me put a card,” said Hermann, extending his hand from behind the fat gentleman, who was immediately punting. Chekalinsky smiled and bowed, silently, as a sign of submissive consent. Narumov, laughing, congratulated Hermann on the permission of a long-term fast and wished him a happy start.

- It's coming! - said Hermann, writing a jackpot with chalk above his card.

- How much? - the banker asked, squinting, - excuse me, I can’t see it.

“Forty-seven thousand,” answered Hermann.

At these words, all heads turned instantly, and all eyes turned to Hermann. - He's gone crazy! – thought Narumov.

“Let me tell you,” said Chekalinsky with his constant smile, “that your game is strong: no one has ever played more than two hundred and seventy-five samples here.”

- Well? - Hermann objected, - are you hitting my card or not? Chekalinsky bowed with the same look of humble agreement.

“I just wanted to report to you,” he said, “that, having been awarded the power of attorney of my comrades, I cannot throw anything other than with pure money.” For my part, I am of course sure that your word is enough, but for the order of the game and the accounts, I ask you to put money on the card.

Hermann took a bank note out of his pocket and handed it to Chekalinsky, who, after briefly looking at it, put it on Hermann’s card.

He began to throw. The nine went to the right, the three to the left.

- I won! - said Hermann, showing his card.

Whispers rose among the players. Chekalinsky frowned, but the smile immediately returned to his face.

- Would you like to receive it? – he asked Hermann.

- Do me a favor.

Chekalinsky took several bank notes out of his pocket and immediately paid. Hermann accepted his money and walked away from the table. Narumov could not come to his senses. Hermann drank a glass of lemonade and went home.

The next day in the evening he again appeared at Chekalinsky’s. The owner is metal. Hermann approached the table; the punters immediately gave him a place. Chekalinsky bowed to him affectionately.

Hermann waited for the new tag, left the card, putting his forty-seven thousand and yesterday’s winnings on it.

Chekalinsky began to throw. The jack fell to the right, the seven to the left.

Hermann opened a seven.

Everyone gasped. Chekalinsky was apparently embarrassed. He counted out ninety-four thousand and handed it to Hermann. Hermann received them with composure and left at that very moment.

The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table. Everyone was expecting him. Generals and privy councilors abandoned their whist to see such an extraordinary game. The young officers jumped off the sofas; all the waiters gathered in the living room. Everyone surrounded Hermann. The other players didn't play their cards, eagerly waiting to see how he would end up. Hermann stood at the table, preparing to punt alone against the pale, but always smiling Chekalinsky. Everyone printed out a deck of cards. Chekalinsky shuffled. Hermann removed and placed his card, covering it with a pile of bank notes. It looked like a duel. Deep silence reigned all around.

Chekalinsky began to throw, his hands were shaking. The queen went to the right, the ace to the left.

- Ace won! - said Hermann and opened his card.

“Your lady has been killed,” Chekalinsky said affectionately.

Hermann shuddered: in fact, instead of an ace, he had a queen of spades. He couldn’t believe his eyes, not understanding how he could have gotten naked.

At that moment it seemed to him that the Queen of Spades squinted and grinned. The extraordinary resemblance struck him...

- Old woman! – he shouted in horror.

Chekalinsky pulled the lost tickets towards him. Hermann stood motionless. When he moved away from the table, a noisy conversation arose. – Nicely sponsored! - the players said. – Chekalinsky shuffled the cards again: the game went on as usual.

Conclusion

Hermann has gone crazy. He sits in the Obukhov hospital in room 17, does not answer any questions and mutters unusually quickly: “Three, seven, ace! Three, seven, queen!..”

Lizaveta Ivanovna married a very kind young man; he serves somewhere and has a decent fortune: he is the son of a former steward of the old countess. Lizaveta Ivanovna is raising a poor relative.

Tomsky was promoted to captain and marries Princess Polina.

And on rainy days

They were going

They bent - God forgive them! -

From fifty

And they won

And they unsubscribed

So, on rainy days,

They were studying

-What did you do, Surin? - asked the owner.

- Lost, as usual. “I must admit that I’m unhappy: I play as a mirandole, I never get excited, nothing can confuse me, but I keep losing!”

- And you’ve never been tempted? never put it on rue?.. Your firmness is amazing to me.

“The game occupies me greatly,” said Hermann, “but I am not able to sacrifice what is necessary in the hope of acquiring what is superfluous.”

– Hermann is German: he is calculating, that’s all! - Tomsky noted. – And if anyone is unclear to me, it’s my grandmother, Countess Anna Fedotovna.

- How? What? - the guests shouted.

“I can’t understand,” continued Tomsky, “how my grandmother doesn’t show off!”

“What’s so surprising,” said Narumov, “that an eighty-year-old woman doesn’t show off?”

- So you don’t know anything about her?

- No! right, nothing!

- Oh, so listen:

You need to know that my grandmother, sixty years ago, went to Paris and was in great fashion there. People ran after her to see la Venus moscovite; Richelieu trailed after her, and the grandmother assures that he almost shot himself because of her cruelty.

She was briefly acquainted with a very remarkable man. You have heard about Count Saint-Germain, about whom they tell so many wonderful things. You know that he pretended to be the Eternal Jew, the inventor of the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone, and so on. They laughed at him as a charlatan, and Casanova in his Notes says that he was a spy; however, Saint-Germain, despite his mystery, had a very respectable appearance and was a very amiable person in society. Grandmother still loves him deeply and gets angry if they talk about him with disrespect. Grandmother knew that Saint Germain could have a lot of money. She decided to resort to him. She wrote him a note and asked him to come to her immediately.

Saint Germain thought about it.

Young players have doubled their attention. Tomsky lit his pipe, took a drag and continued.

- Chance! - said one of the guests.

- Fairy tale! – Hermann noted.

– Maybe powder cards? – picked up the third.

“I don’t think so,” Tomsky answered importantly.

- How! - said Narumov, - you have a grandmother who guesses three cards in a row, and you still haven’t learned her cabalistics from her?

“But it’s time to go to bed: it’s already a quarter to six.”

In fact, it was already dawn: the young people finished their glasses and left.

– II parait que monsieur est decisionment pourles suivantes.

- Que voulez-vus, madame? Elles sont plus fraiches.

Small talk.

“Hello, grand" maman,” said the young officer as he entered. “Bon jour, mademoiselle Lise. Grand” maman, I come to you with a request.

– What is it, Paul?

- Let me introduce one of my friends and bring him to your place on Friday for the ball.

“Bring him to me straight to the ball, and then introduce him to me.” Were you at ***'s yesterday?

- Of course! it was a lot of fun; They danced until five o'clock. How good Yeletskaya was!