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PART I
I. BELA
II. MAKSIM MAKSIMICH
PECHORIN’S JOURNAL
I. TAMAN
PART II. CONCLUSION OF PECHORIN’S JOURNAL
II. PRINCESS MARY
III. THE FATALIST
I was traveling along the military road back from Tiflis. the only luggage in the little cart was one small suitcase half full of travel notes about Georgia. Fortunately for you most of them have been lost since then, though luckily for me the case and the rest of the things in it have survived.
The sun was already slipping behind a snowcapped ridge when I drove into Koishaur Valley. The Ossetian coachman, singing at the top of his voice, tirelessly urged his horses on in order to reach the summit of Koishaur Mountain before nightfall.
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“And true enough I heard the beat of hoofs. ‘Some Cossack must have arrived.’
“‘No! Urus yaman, yaman,’4 he cried and dashed out like a wild panther. In two strides he was in the courtyard; at the gates of the fort a sentry barred his way with a musket, but he leaped over the weapon and began running down the road. In the distance a cloud of dust whirled – it was Azamat urging on the spirited Karagyoz. Kazbich drew his pistol from its canvas bag and fired as he ran. For a minute he stood motionless until he was certain he had missed. Then he screamed, dashed the gun to pieces against the stones, and rolled on the ground crying like a baby… People from the fort gathered around him – but he did not see anyone, and after standing about for a while talking it over they all went back. I had the money for the sheep placed next to him, but he did not touch it; he only lay there face down like a corpse. Would you believe it, he lay like that the rest of the day and all through the night? Only the next morning he returned to the fort to ask whether anyone could tell him who the thief was. A sentry who had seen Azamat untie the horse and gallop off did not think it necessary to conceal the fact. When Kazbich heard the name his eyes flashed and he set out for the village where Azamat’s father lived.’
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