Part Two: Chapter 24

by Leo Tolstoy

　　When Vronsky looked at his watch on the Karenins' balcony, he wasso greatly agitated and lost in his thoughts that he saw thefigures on the watch's face, but could not take in what time itwas. He came out on to the highroad and walked, picking his waycarefully through the mud, to his carriage. He was so completelyabsorbed in his feeling for Anna, that he did not even think whato'clock it was, and whether he had time to go to Bryansky's. Hehad left him, as often happens, only the external faculty ofmemory, that points out each step one has to take, one after theother. He went up to his coachman, who was dozing on the box inthe shadow, already lengthening, of a thick limetree; he admiredthe shifting clouds of midges circling over the hot horses, and,waking the coachman, he jumped into the carriage, and told him todrive to Bryansky's. It was only after driving nearly five milesthat he had sufficiently recovered himself to look at his watch,and realize that it was half-past five, and he was late.

　　There were several races fixed for that day: the Mounted Guards'race, then the officers' mile-and-a-half race, then thethree-mile race, and then the race~for which he was entered. Hecould still be in time for his race, but if he went to Bryansky'she could only just be in time, and he would arrive when the wholeof the court would be in their places. That would be a pity.But he had promised Bryansky to come, and so he decided to driveon, telling the coachman not to spare the horses.

　　He reached Bryansky's, spent five minutes there, and gallopedback. This rapid drive calmed him. All that was painful in hisrelations with Anna, all the feeling of indefiniteness left bytheir conversation, had slipped out of his mind. He was thinkingnow with pleasure and excitement of the race, of his beinganyhow, in time, and now and then the thought of the blissfulinterview awaiting him that night flashed across his imaginationlike a flaming light.

　　The excitement of the approaching race gained upon him as hedrove further and further into the atmosphere of the races,overtaking carriages driving up from the summer villas or out ofPetersburg.

　　At his quarters no one was left at home; all were at the races,and his valet was looking out for him at the gate. While he waschanging his clothes, his valet told him that the second race hadbegun already, that a lot of gentlemen had been to ask for him,and a boy had twice run up from the stables. Dressing withouthurry (he never hurried himself, and never lost hisself-possession), Vronsky drove to the sheds. From the sheds hecould see a perfect sea of carriages, and people on foot,soldiers surrounding the race course, and pavilions swarming withpeople. The second race was apparently going on, for just as hewent into the sheds he heard a bell ringing. Going towards thestable, he met the white-legged chestnut, Mahotin's Gladiator,being led to the race-course in a blue forage horsecloth, withwhat looked like huge ears edged with blue.

　　"Where's Cord?" he asked the stable-boy.

　　"In the stable, putting on the saddle."

　　In the open horse-box stood Frou-Frou, saddled ready. They werejust going to lead her out.

　　"I'm not too late?"

　　"All right! All right!" said the Englishman; "don't upsetyourself!"

　　Vronsky once more took in in one glance the exquisite lines ofhis favorite mare; who was quivering all over, and with an efforthe tore himself from the sight of her, and went out of thestable. He went towards the pavilions at the most favorablemoment for escaping attention. The mile-and-a-half race was justfinishing, and all eyes were fixed on the horse-guard in frontand the light hussar behind, urging their horses on with a lasteffort close to the winning post. From the center and outside ofthe ring all were crowding to the winning post, and a group ofsoldiers and officers of the horse-guards were shouting loudlytheir delight at the expected triumph of their officer andcomrade. Vronsky moved into the middle of the crowd unnoticed,almost at the very moment when the bell rang at the finish of therace, and the tall, mudspattered horse-guard who came in first,bending over the saddle, let go the reins of his panting grayhorse that looked dark with sweat.

　　The horse, stiffening out its legs, with an effort stopped itsrapid course, and the officer of the horse-guards looked roundhim like a man waking up from a heavy sleep, and just managed tosmile. A crowd of friends and outsiders pressed round him.

　　Vronsky intentionally avoided that select crowd of the upperworld, which was moving and talking with discreet freedom beforethe pavilions. He knew that Madame Karenina was there, andBetsy, and his brother's wife, and he purposely did not go nearthem for fear of something distracting his attention. But he wascontinually met and stopped by acquaintances, who told him aboutthe previous races, and kept asking him why he was so late.

　　At the time when the racers had to go to the pavilion to receivethe prizes, and all attention was directed to that point,Vronsky's elder brother, Alexander, a colonel with heavy fringedepaulets, came up to him. He was not tall, though as broadlybuilt as Alexey, and handsomer and rosier than he; he had a rednose, and an open, drunken-looking face.

　　"Did you get my note?" he said. "There's never any finding you."

　　Alexander Vronsky, in spite of the dissolute life, and inespecial the drunken habits, for which he was notorious, wasquite one of the court circle.

　　Now, as he talked to his brother of a matter bound to beexceedingly disagreeable to him, knowing that the eyes of manypeople might be fixed upon him, he kept a smiling countenance, asthough he were jesting with his brother about something of littlemoment.

　　"I got it, and I really can't make out what you are worryingyourself about," said Alexey.

　　"I'm worrying myself because the remark has just been made to methat you weren't here, and that you were seen in Peterhof onMonday."

　　"There are matters which only concern those directly interestedin them, and the matter you are so worried about is..."

　　"Yes, but if so, you may as well cut the service...."

　　"I beg you not to meddle, and that's all I have to say."

　　Alexey Vronsky's frowning face turned white, and his prominentlower jaw quivered, which happened rarely with him. Being a manof very warm heart, he was seldom angry; but when he was angry,and when his chin quivered, then, as Alexander Vronsky knew, hewas dangerous. Alexander Vronsky smiled gaily.

　　"I only wanted to give you Mother's letter. Answer it and don'tworry about anything just before the race. Bonne chance," headded, smiling and he moved away from him. But after him anotherfriendly greeting brought Vronsky to a standstill.

　　"So you won't recognize your friends! How are you, mon cher?"said Stepan Arkadyevitch, as conspicuously brilliant in the midstof all the Petersburg brilliance as he was in Moscow, his facerosy, and his whiskers sleek and glossy. "I came up yesterday,and I'm delighted that I shall see your triumph. When shall wemeet?"

　　"Come tomorrow to the messroom," said Vronsky, and squeezinghim by the sleeve of his coat, with apologies, he moved away tothe center of the race course, where the horses were being ledfor the great steeplechase.

　　The horses who had run in the last race were being led home,steaming and exhausted, by the stable-boys, and one after anotherthe fresh horses for the coming race made their appearance, forthe most part English racers, wearing horsecloths, and lookingwith their drawn-up bellies like strange, huge birds. On theright was led in Frou-Frou, lean and beautiful, lifting up herelastic, rather long pasterns, as though moved by springs. Notfar from her they were taking the rug off the lop-earedGladiator. The strong, exquisite, perfectly correct lines of thestallion, with his superb hind-quarters and excessively shortpasterns almost over his hoofs, attracted Vronsky's attention inspite of himself. He would have gone up to his mare, but he wasagain detained by an acquaintance.

　　"Oh, there's Karenin!" said the acquaintance with whom he waschatting. "He's looking for his wife, and she's in the middle ofthe pavilion. Didn't you see her?"

　　"No," answered Vronsky, and without even glancing round towardsthe pavilion where his friend was pointing out Madame Karenina,he went up to his mare.

　　Vronsky had not had time to look at the saddle, about which hehad to give some direction, when the competitors were summoned tothe pavilion to receive their numbers and places in the row atstarting. Seventeen officers, looking serious and severe, manywith pale faces, met together in the pavilion and drew thenumbers. Vronsky drew the number seven. The cry was heard:"Mount!"

　　Feeling that with the others riding in the race, he was thecenter upon which all eyes were fastened, Vronsky walked up tohis mare in that state of nervous tension in which he usuallybecame deliberate and composed in his movements. Cord, in honorof the races, had put on his best clothes, a black coat buttonedup, a stiffly starched collar, which propped up his cheeks, around black hat, and top boots. He was calm and dignified asever, and was with his own hands holding Frou-Frou by both reins,standing straight in front of her. Frou-Frou was still tremblingas though in a fever. Her eye, full of fire, glanced sideways atVronsky. Vronsky slipped his finger under the saddle-girth. Themare glanced aslant at him, drew up her lip, and twitched herear. The Englishman puckered up his lips, intending to indicatea smile that anyone should verify his saddling.

　　"Get up; you won't feel so excited."

　　Vronsky looked round for the last time at his rivals. He knewthat he would not see them during the race. Two were alreadyriding forward to the point from which they were to start.Galtsin, a friend of Vronsky's and one of his more formidablerivals, was moving round a bay horse that would not let himmount. A little light hussar in tight riding breeches rode offat a gallop, crouched up like a cat on the saddle, in imitationof English jockeys. Prince Kuzovlev sat with a white face on histhoroughbred mare from the Grabovsky stud, while an English groomled her by the bridle. Vronsky and all his comrades knewKuzovlev and his peculiarity of "weak nerves" and terriblevanity. They knew that he was afraid of everything, afraid ofriding a spirited horse. But now, just because it was terrible,because people broke their necks, and there was a doctor standingat each obstacle, and an ambulance with a cross on it, and asister of mercy, he had made up his mind to take part in therace. Their eyes met, and Vronsky gave him a friendly andencouraging nod. Only one he did not see, his chief rival,Mahotin on Gladiator.

　　"Don't be in a hurry," said Cord to Vronsky, "and remember onething: don't hold her in at the fences, and don't urge her on;let her go as she likes."

　　"All right, all right," said Vronsky, taking the reins.

　　"If you can, lead the race; but don't lose heart till the lastminute, even if you're behind."

　　Before the mare had time to move, Vronsky stepped with an agile,vigorous movement into the steel-toothed stirrup, and lightly andfirmly seated himself on the creaking leather of the saddle.Getting his right foot in the stirrup, he smoothed the doublereins, as he always did, between his fingers, and Cord let go.

　　As though she did not know which foot to put first, Frou-Froustarted, dragging at the reins with her long neck, and as thoughshe were on springs, shaking her rider from side to side. Cordquickened his step, following him. The excited mare, trying toshake off her rider first on one side and then the other, pulledat the reins, and Vronsky tried in vain with voice and hand tosoothe her.

　　They were just reaching the dammed-up stream on their way to thestarting point. Several of the riders were in front and severalbehind, when suddenly Vronsky heard the sound of a horsegalloping in the mud behind him, and he was overtaken by Mahotinon his white-legged, lop-eared Gladiator. Mahotin smiled,showing his long teeth, but Vronsky looked angrily at him. Hedid not like him, and regarded him now as his most formidablerival. He was angry with him for galloping past and exciting hismare. Frou-Frou started into a gallop, her left foot forward,made two bounds, and fretting at the tightened reins, passed intoa jolting trot, bumping her rider up and down. Cord, too,scowled, and followed Vronsky almost at a trot.