Best Russian Short Stories eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 355 pages of information about Best Russian Short Stories.


Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two bodies can occupy one and the same place in the physical world.  “Three, seven, ace,” soon drove out of Hermann’s mind the thought of the dead Countess.  “Three, seven, ace,” were perpetually running through his head and continually being repeated by his lips.  If he saw a young girl, he would say:  “How slender she is! quite like the three of hearts.”  If anybody asked:  “What is the time?” he would reply:  “Five minutes to seven.”  Every stout man that he saw reminded him of the ace.  “Three, seven, ace” haunted him in his sleep, and assumed all possible shapes.  The threes bloomed before him in the forms of magnificent flowers, the sevens were represented by Gothic portals, and the aces became transformed into gigantic spiders.  One thought alone occupied his whole mind—­to make a profitable use of the secret which he had purchased so dearly.  He thought of applying for a furlough so as to travel abroad.  He wanted to go to Paris and tempt fortune in some of the public gambling-houses that abounded there.  Chance spared him all this trouble.

There was in Moscow a society of rich gamesters, presided over by the celebrated Chekalinsky, who had passed all his life at the card-table and had amassed millions, accepting bills of exchange for his winnings and paying his losses in ready money.  His long experience secured for him the confidence of his companions, and his open house, his famous cook, and his agreeable and fascinating manners gained for him the respect of the public.  He came to St. Petersburg.  The young men of the capital flocked to his rooms, forgetting balls for cards, and preferring the emotions of faro to the seductions of flirting.  Narumov conducted Hermann to Chekalinsky’s residence.

They passed through a suite of magnificent rooms, filled with attentive domestics.  The place was crowded.  Generals and Privy Counsellors were playing at whist; young men were lolling carelessly upon the velvet-covered sofas, eating ices and smoking pipes.  In the drawing-room, at the head of a long table, around which were assembled about a score of players, sat the master of the house keeping the bank.  He was a man of about sixty years of age, of a very dignified appearance; his head was covered with silvery-white hair; his full, florid countenance expressed good-nature, and his eyes twinkled with a perpetual smile.  Narumov introduced Hermann to him.  Chekalinsky shook him by the hand in a friendly manner, requested him not to stand on ceremony, and then went on dealing.

The game occupied some time.  On the table lay more than thirty cards.  Chekalinsky paused after each throw, in order to give the players time to arrange their cards and note down their losses, listened politely to their requests, and more politely still, put straight the corners of cards that some player’s hand had chanced to bend.  At last the game was finished.  Chekalinsky shuffled the cards and prepared to deal again.

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Best Russian Short Stories from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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