"That little jackanapes is still here," said Ivanoff, as be stared at
Volochine. The latter had not noticed them, being so much interested in
Sina, who walked first, that he turned round in passing to look at her.
"So he is!" said Sanine, laughing.
Sarudine thought that this laughter was meant for him, and he winced,
as if struck by a whip. Flushed with anger, and impelled as by some
irresistible force, he left his companions, and rapidly approached
Sanine.
"What is it?" said the latter, suddenly becoming serious, while his
eyes were fixed on the little riding-whip in Sarudine's trembling hand.
"You fool!" he thought to himself, as much in pity as in anger.
"I should like a word with you," began Sarudine, hoarsely. "Did you
receive my challenge?"
"Yes," replied Sanine, intently watching every movement of the
officer's hands.
"And you have decided to refuse ... er ... to act as any decent man is
bound to act under the circumstances?" asked Sarudine. His voice was
muffled, though loud in tone. To himself it seemed a strange one, as
uncanny as the cold handle of the whip in his moist fingers. But he had
not the strength to turn aside from the path that lay before him.
Suddenly in the garden there seemed to be no air whatever. All the
others stood still, perplexed, and expectant.
"Oh! what the deuce--" began Ivanoff, endeavouring to interpose.
"Of course I refuse," said Sanine in a strangely calm voice, looking
the other straight in the eyes.
Sarudine breathed hard, as if he were lifting a heavy weight.
"Once more I ask you--do you refuse?" His voice had a hard, metallic
ring.
Soloveitchik turned very pale. "Oh, dear! Oh! dear! He's going to hit
him!" he thought.
"What ... what is the matter?" he stammered, as he endeavoured to
protect Sanine.
Scarcely noticing him, Sarudine roughly pushed him aside. He saw
nothing else in front of him but Sanine's cold, calm eyes.
"I have already told you so," said Sanine, in the same tone.
To Sarudine everything seemed whirling round. He heard behind him hasty
footsteps, and the startled cry of a woman. With a sense of despair
such as one who falls headlong into a chasm might feel, he clumsily and
threateningly flourished the whip.
At that same moment Sanine, using all his strength, struck him full in
the face with his clenched fist.
"Good!" exclaimed Ivanoff involuntarily.
Sarudine's head hung limply on one side. Something hot that stabbed his
brain and eyes like sharp needles flooded his mouth and nose.