I agreed to this, too, and Zurin ordered some punch and persuaded me to try it, repeating that I must get used to army life; what would the army be without punch! I did as he told me. We went on playing. The oftener I sipped from my glass, the more reckless I grew. My balls flew beyond the boundary every minute; I grew excited, abused the marker, who did not know how to count, kept raising the stakes—in short, behaved like a silly boy who was having his first taste of freedom. I did not notice how the time passed. Zurin looked at the clock, put down his cue, and told me that I had lost a hundred rubles. I was somewhat taken aback. My money was with Savelyich. I began to apologize; Zurin interrupted me: “Please do not trouble, it does not matter at all. I can wait; and meanwhile let us go and see Arinushka.”

What can I say? I finished the day as recklessly as I had begun it. We had supper at Arinushka’s. Zurin kept filling my glass and repeating that I ought to get used to army ways. I could hardly stand when we got up from the table; at midnight Zurin drove me back to the inn.

Savelyich met us on the steps. He cried out when he saw the unmistakable signs of my zeal for the Service.

“What has come over you, sir?” he said in a shaking voice, “wherever did you get yourself into such a state? Good Lord! Such a dreadful thing has never happened to you before!”

“Be quiet, you old dodderer!” I mumbled. “You must be drunk; go and lie down … and put me to bed.”

Next day I woke up with a headache, vaguely recalling the events of the day before. My reflections were interrupted by Savelyich, who came in to me with a cup of tea.

“It’s early you have taken to drinking, Pyotr Andreyich,” he said to me, shaking his head, “much too early. And whom do you get it from? Neither your father nor your grandfather were drunkards; and your mother, it goes without saying, never tastes anything stronger than kyass. And who is at the bottom of it all? That damned Frenchman. He kept running to Antipyevna: ‘Madame, she voo pree vodka.’ Here’s a fine ‘shu voo pree’ for you! There is no gainsaying it, he has taught you some good, the cur! And much need there was to hire an infidel for a tutor! As though Master had not enough servants of his own!”

I was ashamed. I turned away and said to him: “Leave me, Savelyich, I don’t want any tea.” But it was not easy to stop Savelyich once he began sermonizing.

“You see now what it is to take too much, Pyotr Andreyich. Your head is heavy, and you have no appetite. A man who drinks is no good for anything…. Have some cucumber brine with honey or, better still, half a glass of homemade brandy. Shall I bring you some?”

At that moment a servant-boy came in and gave me a note from Zurin.

Dear Pyotr Andreyich,

Please send me by my boy the hundred rubles you lost to me at billiards yesterday. I am in urgent need of money.

Always at your service,

Ivan Zurin

There was nothing for it. Assuming an air of indifference I turned to Savelyich, “the keeper of my money, linen, and affairs,” and told him to give the boy a hundred rubles.

“What! Why should I give it to him?”

“I owe it to him,” I answered, as coolly as possible.

“Owe it!” repeated Savelyich, growing more and more amazed. “But when did you have time to contract a debt, sir? There’s something wrong about this. You may say what you like, but I won’t give the money.”

I thought that if at that decisive moment I did not get the better of the obstinate old man, it would be difficult for me in the future to free myself from his tutelage, and so I said, looking at him haughtily: “I am your master, and you are my servant. The money is mine. I lost it at billiards because it was my pleasure to do so; and I advise you not to argue, but to do as you are told.”

Savelyich was so startled by my words that he clasped his hands and remained motionless.

“Well, why don’t you go?” I cried angrily.

Savelyich began to weep.

“My dear Pyotr Andreyich,” he said, in a shaking voice, “do not make me die of grief.