The thought of a separation so affected my poor mother that she let the spoon fall into the preserving pan, and tears rained from her eyes.
As for me, it is difficult to express my joy. The idea of army service was mingled in my head with that of liberty, and the pleasures offered by a great city like Saint Petersburg. I saw myself an officer in the Guards, which, in my opinion was the height of felicity.
As my father neither liked to change his plans, nor delay their execution, the day of my departure was instantly fixed. That evening, saying that he would give me a letter to my future chief, he called for writing materials.
"Do not forget, Andrew," said my mother, "to salute for me Prince B. Tell him that I depend upon his favor for my darling Peter."
"What nonsense," said my father, frowning, "why should I write to Prince B.?"
"You have just said that you would write to Peter's future chief."
"Well, what then?"
"Prince B. is his chief. You know very well that Peter is enrolled in the Semenofski regiment."
"Enrolled! what's that to me? Enrolled or not enrolled, he shall not go to Saint Petersburg. What would he learn there? Extravagance and folly. No! let him serve in the army, let him smell powder, let him be a soldier and not a do-nothing in the Guards; let him wear the straps of his knapsack out. Where is the certificate of his birth and baptism?"
My mother brought the certificate, which she kept in a little box with my baptismal robe, and handed it to my father. He read it, placed it before him on the table, and commenced his letter.
I was devoured by curiosity. Where am I going, thought I, if not to Saint Petersburg? I did not take my eyes from the pen which my father moved slowly across the paper.
At last, the letter finished, he put it and my certificate under the same envelope, took off his spectacles, called me and said: "This letter is addressed to Andrew Karlovitch, my old friend and comrade. You are going to Orenbourg to serve under orders."
All my brilliant dreams vanished. In place of the gay life of Saint Petersburg, ennui awaited me in a wild and distant province of the empire. Military life seemed now a calamity.
The next morning a kibitka was at the door; my trunk was placed on it, and also a case holding tea and a tea-service, with some napkins full of rolls and pastry, the last sweet bits of the paternal home. Both my parents gave me their solemn benediction. My father said, "Adieu, Peter. Serve faithfully him to whom your oath is given; obey your chiefs; neither seek favor, nor solicit service, but do not reject them; and remember the proverb: 'Take care of thy coat whilst it is new, and thy honor whilst it is fresh.'"