“And I may do anything I like with them?”
“Yes, print them in the newspapers, if you like. What is it to me? Am I a friend or relation of his? It is true that for a long time we lived under one roof... but aren’t there plenty of people with whom I have lived?”...
I seized the papers and lost no time in carrying them away, fearing that the staff-captain might repent his action. Soon somebody came to tell us that the “Adventure” would set off in an hour’s time. I ordered the horses to be put to.
I had already put my cap on when the staff-captain entered the room. Apparently he had not got ready for departure. His manner was somewhat cold and constrained.
“You are not going, then, Maksim Maksimych?”
“Well, I have not seen the Commandant yet, and I have to deliver some Government things.”
“I did, of course,” he stammered, “but he was not at home... and I did not wait.”
I understood. For the first time in his life, probably, the poor old man had, to speak by the book, thrown aside official business ‘for the sake of his personal requirements’... and how he had been rewarded!
“I am very sorry, Maksim Maksimych, very sorry indeed,” I said, “that we must part sooner than necessary.”
“What should we rough old men be thinking of to run after you? You young men are fashionable and proud: under the Circassian bullets you are friendly enough with us... but when you meet us afterwards you are ashamed even to give us your hand!”
“I have not deserved these reproaches, Maksim Maksimych.”
“Well, but you know I’m quite right. However, I wish you all good luck and a pleasant journey.”
We took a rather cold farewell of each other. The kind-hearted Maksim Maksimych had become the obstinate, cantankerous staff-captain! And why? Because Pechorin, through absent-mindedness or from some other cause, had extended his hand to him when Maksim Maksimych was going to throw himself on his neck! Sad it is to see when a young man loses his best hopes and dreams, when from before his eyes is withdrawn the rose-hued veil through which he has looked upon the deeds and feelings of mankind; although there is the hope that the old illusions will be replaced by new ones, none the less evanescent, but, on the other hand, none the less sweet. But wherewith can they be replaced when one is at the age of Maksim Maksimych? Do what you will, the heart hardens and the soul shrinks in upon itself.