A Hero of our time / Герой нашего времени. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Had we not better turn to the left while there is still time? Over on that slope there are some huts, I believe. Travelers always stay over there in bad weather.” Then he added, pointing to an Ossetian: “They say they’ll guide us there if you give them some money for vodka.”

“I know it, buddy, I know without you telling me!” said the captain. “These crooks! They always think up something to pick up a tip.”

“All the same you have to admit that we’d be worse off without them,” said I.

“Maybe, maybe,” he muttered, “but I know these guides! They can tell by instinct when to take advantage of you – as if you couldn’t find your way without them.”

So we turned to the left and somehow after a good deal of trouble made our way to the scanty refuge consisting of two huts built of slabs and stones and surrounded by a wall of the same material. The tattered inhabitants gave us a cordial welcome. Later I found out that the government pays and feeds them on condition that they take in wayfarers who are caught by the storm.

“It’s all for the best,” said I, taking a seat by the fire. “Now you’ll be able to tell me the rest of the story about Bela; I’m sure that wasn’t the end of it.”

“What makes you so sure?” replied the captain, with a sly smile and a twinkle in his eye.

“Because things don’t happen like that. Anything that begins so strangely must end in the same way.

”

“Well, you guessed right…”

“Glad to hear it.”

“It’s all very well for you to be glad, but for me it is really sad to recall. She was a fine girl, Bela was! I grew as fond of her in the end as if she were my own daughter, and she was fond of me too. I ought to tell you that I have no family. I haven’t heard about my father or mother for some twelve years now, and I didn’t think about getting a wife earlier – and now, you’ve got to admit, it would no longer be quite right.

So I was happy to have found someone to spoil. She would sing to us or dance the Lezghinka… And how she danced! I’ve seen our provincial fine ladies and once some twenty years ago I was at the Nobles’ Club in Moscow, but none of them could hold a candle to her. Pechorin dressed her up like a doll, petted and fondled her, and she grew so lovely that it was amazing.