Having waited for her in vain, Shamil returned to his own apartments when it was already time for the midnight prayers.
XX
HADJI Murád had been a week in the major’s house at the fort. Although Márya Dmítrievna quarrelled with the shaggy Khanéfi (Hadji Murád had only brought two of his murids, Khanéfi and Eldár, with him) and had turned him out of her kitchen – for which he nearly killed her – she evidently felt a particular respect and sympathy for Hadji Murád. She now no longer served him his dinner, having handed that duty over to Eldár, but she seized every opportunity of seeing him and rendering him service. She always took the liveliest interest in the negotiations about his family, knew how many wives and children he had, and their ages, and each time a spy came to see him she inquired as best she could into the results of the negotiations.
Butler during that week had become quite friendly with Hadji Murád. Sometimes the latter came to Butler’s room, sometimes Butler went to Hadji Murád’s: sometimes they conversed by the help of the interpreter, and sometimes they got on as best they could with signs and especially with smiles.
Hadji Murád had evidently taken a fancy to Butler, as could be gathered from Eldár’s relations with the latter. When Butler entered Hadji Murád’s room Eldár met him with a pleased smile showing his glittering teeth, and hurried to put down a cushion for him to sit on and to relieve him of his sword if he was wearing one.
Butler also got to know, and became friendly with, the shaggy Khanéfi, Hadji Murád’s sworn brother. Khanéfi knew many mountain songs and sang them well, and to please Butler, Hadji Murád often made Khanéfi sing, choosing the songs he considered best. Khanéfi had a high tenor voice and sang with extraordinary clearness and expression. One of the songs Hadji Murád specially liked impressed Butler by its solemnly mournful tone and he asked the interpreter to translate it.
The subject of the song was the very blood-feud that had existed between Khanéfi and Hadji Murád. It ran as follows:
‘The earth will dry on my grave,
Mother, my Mother!
And thou wilt forget me!
And over me rank grass will wave,
Father, my Father!
Nor wilt thou regret me
When tears cease thy dark eyes to lave,
Sister, dear Sister!
No more will grief fret thee!
‘But thou, my Brother the elder, wilt never forget,
With vengeance denied me!
And thou, my Brother the younger, wilt ever regret,
Till thou liest beside me!
‘Hotly thou camest, O death-bearing ball that I spurned,
For thou wast my slave!
And thou, black earth, that battle-steed trampled and churned,
Wilt cover my grave!
‘Cold art Thou, O Death, yet I was thy Lord and thy Master!
My body sinks fast to the earth, my soul to Heaven flies faster.’
Hadji Murád always listened to this song with closed eyes and when it ended on a long gradually dying note he always remarked in Russian –
‘Good song! Wise song!’
After Hadji Murád’s arrival and his intimacy with him and his murids, the poetry of the stirring mountain life took a still stronger hold on Butler. He procured for himself a beshmét and a Circassian coat and leggings, and imagined himself a mountaineer living the life those people lived.
On the day of Hadji Murád’s departure the major invited several officers to see him off. They were sitting, some at the table where Márya Dmítrievna was pouring out tea, some at another table on which stood vodka, chikhír, and light refreshments, when Hadji Murád dressed for the journey came limping into the room with soft, rapid footsteps.
They all rose and shook hands with him. The major offered him a seat on the divan, but Hadji Murád thanked him and sat down on a chair by the window.
The silence that followed his entrance did not at all abash him. He looked attentively at all the faces and fixed an indifferent gaze on the tea-table with the samovar and refreshments. Petróvsky, a lively officer who now met Hadji Murád for the first time, asked him through the interpreter whether he liked Tiflis.
‘Alya!’ he replied.
‘He says “Yes”,’ translated the interpreter.
‘What did he like there?’
Hadji Murád said something in reply.
‘He liked the theatre best of all.’
‘And how did he like the ball at the house of the commander-in-chief?’
Hadji Murád frowned. ‘Every nation has its own customs! Our women do not dress in such a way,’ said he, glancing at Márya Dmítrievna.
‘Well, didn’t he like it?’
‘We have a proverb,’ said Hadji Murád to the interpreter, ‘ “The dog gave meat to the ass and the ass gave hay to the dog, and both went hungry,” ’ and he smiled. ‘Its own customs seem good to each nation.’
The conversation went no farther. Some of the officers took tea, some other refreshments. Hadji Murád accepted the tumbler of tea offered him and put it down before him.
‘Won’t you have cream and a bun?’ asked Márya Dmítrievna, offering them to him.
Hadji Murád bowed his head.
‘Well, I suppose it is good-bye!’ said Butler, touching his knee. ‘When shall we meet again?’
‘Good-bye, good-bye!’ said Hadji Murád, in Russian, with a smile. ‘Kunák bulug. Strong kunák to thee! Time – ayda – go!’ and he jerked his head in the direction in which he had to go.
Eldár appeared in the doorway carrying something large and white across his shoulder and a sword in his hand. Hadji Murád beckoned to him and he crossed the room with big strides and handed him a white búrka and the sword. Hadji Murád rose, took the búrka, threw it over his arm, and saying something to the interpreter handed it to Márya Dmítrievna.
‘He says thou hast praised the búrka, so accept it,’ said the interpreter.
‘Oh, why?’ said Márya Dmítrievna blushing.
‘It is necessary. Like Adam,’ said Hadji Murád.
‘Well, thank you,’ said Márya Dmítrievna, taking the búrka. ‘God grant that you rescue your son,’ she added. ‘Ulan yakshi. Tell him that I wish him success in releasing his son.’
Hadji Murád glanced at Márya Dmítrievna and nodded his head approvingly. Then he took the sword from Eldár and handed it to the major. The major took it and said to the interpreter, ‘Tell him to take my chestnut gelding. I have nothing else to give him.’
Hadji Murád waved his hand in front of his face to show that he did not want anything and would not accept it. Then, pointing first to the mountains and then to his heart, he went out.
All the household followed him as far as the door, while the officers who remained inside the room drew the sword from its scabbard, examined its blade, and decided that it was a real Gurda.26
Butler accompanied Hadji Murád to the porch, and then came a very unexpected incident which might have ended fatally for Hadji Murád had it not been for his quick observation, determination, and agility.