His Excellency the Governor by Leonid Andreyev

Laughter and song and merry games -- for tomorrow Peter Iljitch's son, the officer, returned to St. Petersburg, and friends had gathered to say goodbye. Uniforms and gay frocks were scattered about in the open glades and meadows, under the purple and gold of the autumn foliage, and in the sapphire clearness of the woodland ways. As the red wintry sunset faded and the stars moved by in the heavens, they set off fireworks -- rockets that burst with a loud report, star-mines and pinwheels. A stifling smoke crept under the great old trees that stood there, so earnestly watching; and when they started the Bengal lights, hurrying figures were changed to ghosts -- to fluttering, flitting shadows!

Commissioner "Pike," who had pretty freely quenched his thirst at dinner, gazed indulgently at the gay throng, strutted comically about among the ladies, and enjoyed himself. And when presently he heard the Governor's voice close beside him in the smoky darkness, he was taken with a wild desire to kiss him on the shoulder, to hug him carefully -- or any little thing of that kind -- as an expression of his devotion. Instead of this, however, he laid his hand on the left breast of his uniform, threw away a cigarette he had just lighted, and said: "Ah! your Excellency, what a charming fête! ".