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Contents ( 148)
  1. THE TORRENTS OF SPRING
  2. * * *
  3. IVAN TURGENEV
  4. CONSTANCE GARNETT
  5. *
  6. Contents
  7. *
  8. The Torrents of Spring
  9. *
  10. I
  11. *
  12. II
  13. *
  14. III
  15. *
  16. IV
  17. *
  18. V
  19. *
  20. VI
  21. *
  22. VII
  23. *
  24. VIII
  25. *
  26. IX
  27. *
  28. X
  29. *
  30. XI
  31. *
  32. XII
  33. *
  34. XIII
  35. *
  36. XIV
  37. *
  38. XV
  39. *
  40. XVI
  41. *
  42. XVII
  43. *
  44. XVIII
  45. *
  46. XIX
  47. *
  48. XX
  49. *
  50. XXI
  51. *
  52. XXII
  53. *
  54. XXIII
  55. *
  56. XXIV
  57. *
  58. XXV
  59. *
  60. XXVI
  61. *
  62. XXVII
  63. *
  64. XXVIII
  65. *
  66. XXIX
  67. *
  68. XXX
  69. *
  70. XXXI
  71. *
  72. XXXII
  73. *
  74. XXXIII
  75. *
  76. XXXIV
  77. *
  78. XXXV
  79. *
  80. XXXVI
  81. *
  82. XXXVII
  83. *
  84. XXXVIII
  85. *
  86. XXXIX
  87. *
  88. XL
  89. *
  90. XLI
  91. *
  92. XLII
  93. *
  94. XLIII
  95. *
  96. XLIV
  97. *
  98. First Love
  99. *
  100. I
  101. *
  102. II
  103. *
  104. III
  105. *
  106. IV
  107. *
  108. V
  109. *
  110. VI
  111. *
  112. VII
  113. *
  114. VIII
  115. *
  116. IX
  117. *
  118. X
  119. *
  120. XI
  121. *
  122. XII
  123. *
  124. XIII
  125. *
  126. XIV
  127. *
  128. XV
  129. *
  130. XVI
  131. *
  132. XVII
  133. *
  134. XVIII
  135. *
  136. XIX
  137. *
  138. XX
  139. *
  140. XXI
  141. *
  142. XXII
  143. *
  144. Mumu
  145. *
  146. * * *
  147. Endnotes
  148. *

I started.... I fancied I heard the creak of a door opening, then the faint crack of a broken twig. In two bounds I got down from the ruin, and stood still, all aghast. Rapid, light, but cautious footsteps sounded distinctly in the garden. They were approaching me. 'Here he is ... here he is, at last!' flashed through my heart. With spasmodic haste, I pulled the knife out of my pocket; with spasmodic haste, I opened it. Flashes of red were whirling before my eyes; my hair stood up on my head in my fear and fury.... The steps were coming straight towards me; I bent—I craned forward to meet him.... A man came into view.... My God! it was my father! I recognised him at once, though he was all muffled up in a dark cloak, and his hat was pulled down over his face. On tip-toe he walked by. He did not notice me, though nothing concealed me; but I was so huddled up and shrunk together that I fancy I was almost on the level of the ground. The jealous Othello, ready for murder, was suddenly transformed into a school-boy.... I was so taken aback by my father's unexpected appearance that for the first moment I did not notice where he had come from or in what direction he disappeared. I only drew myself up, and thought, 'Why is it my father is walking about in the garden at night?' when everything was still again. In my horror I had dropped my knife in the grass, but I did not even attempt to look for it; I was very much ashamed of myself. I was completely sobered at once. On my way to the house, however, I went up to my seat under the elder-tree, and looked up at Zinaïda's window. The small slightly-convex panes of the window shone dimly blue in the faint light thrown on them by the night sky. All at once—their colour began to change.... Behind them—I saw this, saw it distinctly—softly and cautiously a white blind was let down, let down right to the window-frame, and so stayed.

'What is that for?' I said aloud almost involuntarily when I found myself once more in my room. 'A dream, a chance, or ...' The suppositions which suddenly rushed into my head were so new and strange that I did not dare to entertain them.

XVIII

*

I got up in the morning with a headache. My emotion of the previous day had vanished. It was replaced by a dreary sense of blankness and a sort of sadness I had not known till then, as though something had died in me.