Best Russian Short Stories | Page 6

card in his hand in his life, he
has never in, his life laid a wager, and yet he sits here till five o'clock in
the morning watching our play."
"Play interests me very much," said Hermann: "but I am not in the
position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the
superfluous."
"Hermann is a German: he is economical--that is all!" observed
Tomsky. "But if there is one person that I cannot understand, it is my
grandmother, the Countess Anna Fedotovna."
"How so?" inquired the guests.
"I cannot understand," continued Tomsky, "how it is that my
grandmother does not punt."
"What is there remarkable about an old lady of eighty not punting?"
said Narumov.
"Then you do not know the reason why?"
"No, really; haven't the faintest idea."
"Oh! then listen. About sixty years ago, my grandmother went to Paris,
where she created quite a sensation. People used to run after her to

catch a glimpse of the 'Muscovite Venus.' Richelieu made love to her,
and my grandmother maintains that he almost blew out his brains in
consequence of her cruelty. At that time ladies used to play at faro. On
one occasion at the Court, she lost a very considerable sum to the Duke
of Orleans. On returning home, my grandmother removed the patches
from her face, took off her hoops, informed my grandfather of her loss
at the gaming-table, and ordered him to pay the money. My deceased
grandfather, as far as I remember, was a sort of house-steward to my
grandmother. He dreaded her like fire; but, on hearing of such a heavy
loss, he almost went out of his mind; he calculated the various sums she
had lost, and pointed out to her that in six months she had spent half a
million francs, that neither their Moscow nor Saratov estates were in
Paris, and finally refused point blank to pay the debt. My grandmother
gave him a box on the ear and slept by herself as a sign of her
displeasure. The next day she sent for her husband, hoping that this
domestic punishment had produced an effect upon him, but she found
him inflexible. For the first time in her life, she entered into reasonings
and explanations with him, thinking to be able to convince him by
pointing out to him that there are debts and debts, and that there is a
great difference between a Prince and a coachmaker. But it was all in
vain, my grandfather still remained obdurate. But the matter did not
rest there. My grandmother did not know what to do. She had shortly
before become acquainted with a very remarkable man. You have heard
of Count St. Germain, about whom so many marvellous stories are told.
You know that he represented himself as the Wandering Jew, as the
discoverer of the elixir of life, of the philosopher's stone, and so forth.
Some laughed at him as a charlatan; but Casanova, in his memoirs, says
that he was a spy. But be that as it may, St. Germain, in spite of the
mystery surrounding him, was a very fascinating person, and was much
sought after in the best circles of society. Even to this day my
grandmother retains an affectionate recollection of him, and becomes
quite angry if any one speaks disrespectfully of him. My grandmother
knew that St. Germain had large sums of money at his disposal. She
resolved to have recourse to him, and she wrote a letter to him asking
him to come to her without delay. The queer old man immediately
waited upon her and found her overwhelmed with grief. She described
to him in the blackest colours the barbarity of her husband, and ended

by declaring that her whole hope depended upon his friendship and
amiability.
"St. Germain reflected.
"'I could advance you the sum you want,' said he; 'but I know that you
would not rest easy until you had paid me back, and I should not like to
bring fresh troubles upon you. But there is another way of getting out
of your difficulty: you can win back your money.'
"'But, my dear Count,' replied my grandmother, 'I tell you that I haven't
any money left.'
"'Money is not necessary,' replied St. Germain: 'be pleased to listen to
me.'
"Then he revealed to her a secret, for which each of us would give a
good deal..."
The young officers listened with increased attention. Tomsky lit his
pipe, puffed away for a moment and then continued:
"That same evening my grandmother went to Versailles to the jeu de la
reine. The Duke of Orleans kept the bank; my grandmother excused
herself in an off-hand manner for not having yet paid her debt, by
inventing some little story, and then began to play