Short Fiction

What more glorious than to open for one’s self a new career⁠—to appear suddenly before the learned world with a book of discoveries in one’s hand, like an unlooked-for comet blazing in the empyrean!

No longer will I keep my book in obscurity. Behold it, gentlemen; read it! I have undertaken and performed a forty-two days’ journey round my room. The interesting observations I have made, and the constant pleasure I have experienced all along the road, made me wish to publish my travels; the certainty of being useful decided the matter. And when I think of the number of unhappy ones to whom I offer a never failing resource for weary moments, and a balm for the ills they suffer, my heart is filled with inexpressible satisfaction. The pleasure to be found in travelling round one’s room is sheltered from the restless jealousy of men, and is independent of Fortune.

Surely there is no being so miserable as to be without a retreat to which he can withdraw and hide himself from the world. Such a hiding-place will contain all the preparations our journey requires.

Every man of sense will, I am sure, adopt my system, whatever may be his peculiar character or temperament. Be he miserly or prodigal, rich or poor, young or old, born beneath the torrid zone or near the poles, he may travel with me. Among the immense family of men who throng the earth, there is not one, no, not one (I mean of those who inhabit rooms), who, after reading this book can refuse his approbation of the new mode of travelling I introduce into the world.

If it is both useful and agreeable to have a soul so disengaged from matter that we can let it travel alone whenever we please, this has also its disadvantages. Through this, for instance, I got the burn I spoke of a few chapters back.

I generally leave my animal to prepare my breakfast. Its care it is to slice and toast my bread. My coffee it makes admirably, and helps itself thereto without my soul’s concerning herself in the transaction. But this is a very rare and nice performance to execute; for though it is easy enough while busied in a mechanical operation, to think of something quite different, it is extremely difficult, so to speak, to watch one’s self-work, or, if I express myself systematically, to employ one’s soul to examine the animal’s progress, and to watch its work without taking part in it. This is the most extraordinary metaphysical feat a man can execute.

I had rested my tongs on the embers to toast my bread, and some little time afterwards, while my soul was travelling, a burning stick fell on the hearth: my poor animal seized the tongs, and I burnt my fingers.

I began my journey precisely at eight o’clock in the evening. The weather was calm and there was promise of a fine night. I had taken precautions not to be disturbed by visitors, who are somewhat rare at the height at which I was lodging, and especially in the circumstances in which I then was, as I wished to be alone until midnight. Four hours would be amply sufficient for the execution of my undertaking, as, on this occasion, I only desired to make a short journey round my room. If the first journey lasted forty-two days, it was because I was not in a position to make it shorter. I did not wish to tie myself down to much carriage travelling as in my former journey, being quite convinced that a traveller on foot sees many things which escape the notice of him who travels post. I determined, therefore, to travel on foot or on horseback according to circumstances: a novel method which I have never yet made known, but its advantages will soon become apparent. Besides, I also proposed to take notes by the way, and to write down my observations at the moment they were made, so that I might forget nothing. In order to infuse some method into my undertaking, and to give it a better chance of success, I deemed it well to commence by composing a dedication, and to write it in verse, in order to make it more attractive.

I then perceived in a balcony to my left, a little below me, a young lady in white deshabille: her hand supported her charming head, which was sufficiently inclined to allow me to see by the light of the stars a most interesting profile, and her pose seemed by design to reveal, to an aerial traveller like myself, a slim and graceful figure; one of her bare feet, thrown negligently behind her, was so turned that I was able, despite the darkness, to make a guess at its admirable proportions, whilst one pretty little slipper, which was lying beside it, revealed it more definitely to my eager gaze. I leave you to imagine, my dear Sophie, the extreme awkwardness of my position. I dared not utter the slightest exclamation for fear of startling my beautiful neighbour, nor make the least movement for fear of falling into the street. A sigh, however, escaped me, in spite of myself, but I recovered myself sufficiently to stop in the middle; the remainder was wafted away by a passing breeze, and I had plenty of leisure to examine the pensive lady, and was sustained in this perilous position by the hope of hearing her sing again.

But, alas! her song was ended, and so ill-fated was I that she maintained the most obdurate silence. At length, after having waited a long time, I thought I might venture to speak to her; my only difficulty was to find a compliment worthy of her and of the sentiments which she had inspired. Oh! how I regretted that I had not finished my dedication in verse! how suitable it would have been on this occasion!

From the dusky corner where he was lying, Ivan examined eagerly the scene before him. The glimmer of the fire, which blazed from time to time, shone on an axe deposited in a hole in the wall. The old man, at length, over come by sleep, let his head at intervals decline on his breast. Ivan rose. The suspicious gaoler asked him immediately, in a rough tone, “What is the matter?” Instead of replying, Ivan came near the fire, yawning aloud, as a person who was just awaking from a profound sleep. Ibrahim, who was endeavouring to keep himself awake, called on Kascambo to play on his guitar. The Major refusing to comply, Ivan reached him the instrument, whispering, “Take it, I have something to tell you.” Kascambo immediately tuned the guitar, and after a short prelude sang with his servant the following duet; introducing at each question and reply, the couplets of a Russian air.

Kascambo

“Hai luli! hai luli! What hast thou to tell me?⁠—take care.

“I’m weary and sad, but in truth No wonder my spirits have flown, For here I expected the youth, And now I’m forlorn and alone. Hai luli! hai luli! What can the matter be?⁠— It grieves one to be thus alone.”

Ivan

“See the hatchet, but do not stare at it. Hai luli! hai luli! I shall split that rascal’s head.