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diff --git a/41119-0.txt b/41119-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5934660 --- /dev/null +++ b/41119-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11496 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41119 *** + + A + + RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR + + and + + OTHER STORIES + + + + BY + + COUNT LYOF N. TOLSTOÏ + + + _TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN_ + + BY + + NATHAN HASKELL DOLE + + + + + NEW YORK + + THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. + + 13 ASTOR PLACE + + * * * * * + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The following tales are, with one exception, taken from the second volume +of Count L. N. Tolstoï's collected works, and are representative of his +literary activity between 1852 and 1859. + +The first story, though only a fragment of a projected novel to be called +"A Russian Proprietor," is perfect and complete in itself. One cannot help +feeling that it is autobiographical; Count Tolstoï himself, it will be +remembered, having suddenly quitted the University of Kazan, in spite of +the entreaties of his friends, and retired to his paternal estate of +Yasnaya Polyana, near Tula. The aunt whose letter is quoted in the first +chapter must have been Count Tolstoï's aunt, mentioned in the second +chapter of "My Confession." + +The "Recollections of a Scorer" and "Two Hussars" are both evidently +reminiscent of Count Tolstoï's gambling-days. Both must have been suggested +by some such terrible experience as that told of the count's gambling-debt +in the Caucasus. + +"Lucerne" and "Albert" are likewise evidently transcripts from the author's +own experience. The strange benefactor in each, and the shadowy Prince +Nekhliudof, are all Count Tolstoï in phases quite distinct from what he is +at present. + +"The Three Deaths," written in 1859, has little of the sombre power of +"Iván Ilyitch." The scalpel which was so remorselessly applied to the soul +in the latter is wholly hidden. It is realism pure and simple; and the +contrast between the death of the peasant and of the lady is left to +inference, made all the stronger by the unexpected and grandiose finale in +the death of the tree. + +In interesting contrast to these characteristic stories is the little gem +entitled "A Prisoner in the Caucasus," which is found in Vol. IV. of the +Count's works under the heading "Tales for Children." The style is +perfectly simple and lucid; the pictures of life in the Tatar village among +the mountains are intensely vivid, painted with strong and masterly +touches; and the reader will not soon forget the little laughing maiden +Dina, with the rubles jingling in her braided hair. She stands forth as one +of the most fascinating of the author's creations. + +NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. + +BOSTON, Dec. 5, 1887. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + +A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR 1 + +LUCERNE 87 + +RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER 123 + +ALBERT 148 + +TWO HUSSARS 190 + +THREE DEATHS 286 + +A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS 308 + + * * * * * + + + + +A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR. + + +I. + +Prince Nekhliudof was nineteen years of age when, at the end of his third +term at the university, he came to spend his summer vacation on his estate. +He was alone there all the summer. + +In the autumn he wrote in his unformed, boyish hand, a letter to his aunt, +the Countess Biéloretskaïa, who, according to his notion, was his best +friend, and the most genial woman in the world. The letter was in French, +and was to the following effect:-- + + "DEAR AUNTIE,--I have adopted a resolution upon which must + depend the fate of my whole existence. I have left the + university in order to devote myself to a country life, + because I feel that I was born for it. For God's sake, dear + auntie, don't make sport of me. You say that I am young. + Perhaps I am still almost a child; but this does not prevent + me from feeling sure of my vocation, from wishing to + accomplish it successfully, and from loving it. + + "As I have already written you, I found our affairs in + indescribable confusion. Wishing to bring order out of + chaos, I made an investigation, and discovered that the + principal trouble was due to the most wretched miserable + condition of the peasants, and that this trouble could be + remedied only by work and patience. + + "If you could only see two of my peasants, David and Iván, + and the way that they and their families live, I am + convinced that one glance at these two unfortunates would do + more to persuade you than all that I can tell you in + justification of my resolve. Is not my obligation sacred and + clear, to labor for the welfare of these seven hundred human + beings for whom I must be responsible to God? Would it not + be a sin to leave them to the mercy of harsh elders and + overseers, so as to carry out plans of enjoyment or + ambition? And why should I seek in any other sphere the + opportunity of being useful, and doing good, when such a + noble, brilliant, and paramount duty lies right at hand? + + "I feel that I am capable of being a good farmer;[1] and in + order to make myself such an one as I understand the word to + mean, I do not need my diploma as B.A., nor the rank which + you so expect of me. Dear auntie, do not make ambitious + plans for me: accustom yourself to the thought that I am + going on an absolutely peculiar path, but one that is good, + and, I think, will bring me to happiness. I have thought and + thought about my future duties, have written out some rules + of conduct, and, if God only gives me health and strength, I + shall succeed in my undertaking. + + [Footnote 1: _khozyáïn_.] + + "Do not show this letter to my brother Vásya: I am afraid of + his ridicule. He generally dictates to me, and I am + accustomed to give way to him. Whilst Vanya may not approve + of my resolve, at least he will understand it." + +The countess replied to her nephew in the following letter, also written in +French:-- + + "Your letter, dear Dmitri, showed nothing else to me than + that you have a warm heart; and I have never had reason to + doubt that. But, my dear, our good tendencies do us more + harm in life than our bad ones. I will not tell you that you + are committing a folly, that your behavior annoys me; but I + will do my best to make one argument have an effect upon + you. Let us reason together, my dear. + + "You say you feel that your vocation is for a country life; + that you wish to make your serfs happy, and that you hope to + be a good farmer. + + "In the first place, I must tell you that we feel sure of + our vocation only when we have once made a mistake in one; + secondly, that it is easier to win happiness for ourselves + than for others; and thirdly, that, in order to be a good + master, it is necessary to be a cold and austere man, which + you will never in this world succeed in being, even though + you strive to make believe that you are. + + "You consider your arguments irresistible, and go so far as + to adopt them as rules for the conduct of life; but at my + age, my dear, people don't care for arguments and rules, but + only for experience. Now, experience tells me that your + plans are childish. + + "I am now in my fiftieth year, and I have known many fine + men; but I have never heard of a young man of good family + and ability burying himself in the country under the pretext + of doing good. + + "You have always wished to appear original, but your + originality is nothing else than morbidly developed egotism. + And, my dear, choose some better-trodden path. It will lead + you to success; and success, if it is not necessary for you + as success, is at least indispensable in giving you the + possibility of doing good which you desire. The poverty of a + few serfs is an unavoidable evil, or, rather, an evil which + cannot be remedied by forgetting all your obligations to + society, to your relatives, and to yourself. + + "With your intellect, with your kind heart, and your love + for virtue, no career would fail to bring you success; but + at all events choose one which would be worth your while, + and bring you honor. + + "I believe that you are sincere, when you say that you are + free from ambition; but you are deceiving yourself. Ambition + is a virtue at your age, and with your means it becomes a + fault and an absurdity when a man is no longer in the + condition to satisfy this passion. + + "And you will experience this if you do not change your + intention. Good-by, dear Mitya. It seems to me that I have + all the more love for you on account of your foolish but + still noble and magnanimous plan. Do as you please, but I + forewarn you that I shall not be able to sympathize with + you." + +The young man read this letter, considered it long and seriously, and +finally, having decided that his genial aunt might be mistaken, sent in his +petition for dismissal from the university, and took up his residence at +his estate. + + +II. + +The young proprietor had, as he wrote his aunt, devised a plan of action in +the management of his estate; and his whole life and activity were measured +by hours, days, and months. + +Sunday was reserved for the reception of petitioners, domestic servants, +and peasants, for the visitation of the poor serfs belonging to the estate, +and the distribution of assistance with the approval of the Commune, which +met every Sunday evening, and was obliged to decide who should have help, +and what amount should be given. + +In such employments passed more than a year, and the young man was now no +longer a novice either in the practical or theoretical knowledge of estate +management. + +It was a clear July Sunday when Nekhliudof, having finished his coffee and +run through a chapter of "Maison Rustique," put his note-book and a packet +of bank-notes into the pocket of his light overcoat, and started out of +doors. It was a great country-house with colonnades and terraces where he +lived, but he occupied only one small room on the ground floor. He made his +way over the neglected, weed-grown paths of the old English garden, toward +the village, which was distributed along both sides of the highway. + +Nekhliudof was a tall, slender young man, with long, thick, wavy auburn +hair, with a bright gleam in his dark eyes, a clear complexion, and rosy +lips where the first down of young manhood was now beginning to appear. + +In all his motions and gait, could be seen strength, energy, and the +good-natured self-satisfaction of youth. + +The serfs, in variegated groups, were returning from church: old men, +maidens, children, mothers with babies in their arms, dressed in their +Sunday best, were scattering to their homes; and as they met the bárin they +bowed low and made room for him to pass. + +After Nekhliudof had walked some distance along the street, he stopped, and +drew from his pocket his note-book, on the last page of which, inscribed in +his own boyish hand, were a number of names of his serfs with memoranda. He +read, "_Iván Churis asks for aid_;" and then, proceeding still farther +along the street, entered the gate of the second hut[2] on the right. + +[Footnote 2: _izbá_.] + +Churis's domicile consisted of a half-decayed structure, with musty +corners; the sides were rickety. It was so buried in the ground, that the +banking, made of earth and dung, almost hid the two windows. The one on the +front had a broken sash, and the shutters were half torn away; the other +was small and low, and was stuffed with flax. A boarded entry with rotting +sills and low door, another small building still older and still +lower-studded than the entry, a gate, and a barn were clustered about the +principal hut. + +All this had once been covered by one irregular roof; but now only over the +eaves hung the thick straw, black and decaying. Above, in places, could be +seen the frame-work and rafters. + +In front of the yard were a well with rotten curb, the remains of a post, +and the wheel, and a mud-puddle stirred up by the cattle where some ducks +were splashing. + +Near the well stood two old willows, split and broken, with their +whitish-green foliage. They were witnesses to the fact that some one, some +time, had taken interest in beautifying this place. Under one of them sat a +fair-haired girl of seven summers, watching another little girl of two, who +was creeping at her feet. The watch-dog gambolling about them, as soon as +he saw the bárin, flew headlong under the gate, and there set up a +quavering yelp expressive of panic. + +"Iván at home?" asked Nekhliudof. + +The little girl seemed stupefied at this question, and kept opening her +eyes wider and wider, but made no reply. The baby opened her mouth, and set +up a yell. + +A little old woman, in a torn checkered skirt, belted low with an old red +girdle, peered out of the door, and also said nothing. Nekhliudof +approached the entry, and repeated his inquiry. + +"Yes, he's at home," replied the little old woman in a quavering voice, +bowing low, and evincing timidity and agitation. + +After Nekhliudof had asked after her health, and passed through the entry +into the little yard, the old woman, resting her chin in her hand, went to +the door, and, without taking her eyes off the bárin, began gently to shake +her head. + +The yard was in a wretched condition, with heaps of old blackened manure +that had not been carried away: on the manure were thrown in confusion a +rotting block, pitchforks, and two harrows. + +There were pent-houses around the yard, under one side of which stood a +wooden plough, a cart without a wheel, and a pile of empty +good-for-nothing bee-hives thrown one upon another. The roof was in +disrepair; and one side had fallen in so that the covering in front rested, +not on the supports, but on the manure. + +Churis, with the edge and head of an axe, was breaking off the wattles that +strengthened the roof. Iván was a peasant, fifty years of age. In stature, +he was short. The features of his tanned oval face, framed in a dark auburn +beard and hair where a trace of gray was beginning to appear, were handsome +and expressive. His dark blue eyes gleamed with intelligence and lazy +good-nature, from under half-shut lids. His small, regular mouth, sharply +defined under his sandy thin mustache when he smiled, betrayed a calm +self-confidence, and a certain bantering indifference toward all around +him. + +By the roughness of his skin, by his deep wrinkles, by the veins that stood +out prominently on his neck, face, and hands, by his unnatural stoop and +the crooked position of his legs, it was evident that all his life had been +spent in hard work, far beyond his strength. + +His garb consisted of white hempen drawers, with blue patches on the knees, +and a dirty shirt of the same material, which kept hitching up his back and +arms. The shirt was belted low in the waist by a girdle, from which hung a +brass key. + +"Good-day," said the bárin, as he stepped into the yard. Churis glanced +around, and kept on with his work; making energetic motions, he finished +clearing away the wattles from under the shed, and then only, having struck +the axe into the block, he came out into the middle of the yard. + +"A pleasant holiday, your excellency!" said he, bowing low and smoothing +his hair. + +"Thanks, my friend. I came to see how your affairs[3] were progressing," +said Nekhliudof with boyish friendliness and timidity, glancing at the +peasant's garb. "Just show me what you need in the way of supports that you +asked me about at the last meeting." + +"Supports, of course, sir, your excellency, sir.[4] I should like it fixed +a little here, sir, if you will have the goodness to cast your eye on it: +here this corner has given way, sir, and only by the mercy of God the +cattle didn't happen to be there. It barely hangs at all," said Churis, +gazing with an expressive look at his broken-down, ramshackly, and ruined +sheds. "Now the girders and the supports and the rafters are nothing but +rot; you won't see a sound timber. But where can we get lumber nowadays, I +should like to know?" + +[Footnote 3: _khozyáïstvo._] + +[Footnote 4: _bátiushka._] + +"Well, what do you want with the five supports when the one shed has fallen +in? the others will be soon falling in too, won't they? You need to have +every thing made new,--rafters and girders and posts; but you don't want +supports," said the bárin, evidently priding himself on his comprehension +of the case. + +Churis made no reply. + +"Of course you need lumber, but not supports. You ought to have told me +so." + +"Surely I do, but there's nowhere to get it. Not all of us can come to the +manor-house. If we all should get into the habit of coming to the +manor-house and asking your excellency for every thing we wanted, what kind +of serfs should we be? But if your kindness went so far as to let me have +some of the oak saplings that are lying idle over by the threshing-floor," +said the peasant, making a low bow and scraping with his foot, "then, +maybe, I might exchange some, and piece out others, so that the old would +last some time longer." + +"What is the good of the old? Why, you just told me that it was all old and +rotten. This part has fallen in to-day; to-morrow, that one will; the day +after, a third. So, if any thing is to be done, it must be all made new, so +that the work may not be wasted. Now tell me what you think about it. Can +your premises[5] last out this winter, or not?" + +"Who can tell?" + +"No, but what do you think? Will they fall in, or not?" + +Churis meditated for a moment. "Can't help falling in," said he suddenly. + +"Well, now you see you had better have said that at the meeting, that you +needed to rebuild your whole place,[5] instead of a few props. You see, I +should be glad to help you." + +[Footnote 5: _dvor._] + +"Many thanks for your kindness," replied Churis, in an incredulous tone and +not looking at the bárin. "If you would give me four joists and some props, +then, perhaps, I might fix things up myself; but if any one is hunting +after good-for-nothing timbers, then he'd find them in the joists of the +hut." + +"Why, is your hut so wretched as all that?" + +"My old woman and I are expecting it to fall in on us any day," replied +Churis indifferently. "A day or two ago, a girder fell from the ceiling, +and struck my old woman." + +"What! struck her?" + +"Yes, struck her, your excellency: whacked her on the back, so that she lay +half dead all night." + +"Well, did she get over it?" + +"Pretty much, but she's been ailing ever since; but then she's always +ailing." + +"What, are you sick?" asked Nekhliudof of the old woman, who had been +standing all the time at the door, and had begun to groan as soon as her +husband mentioned her. + +"It bothers me here more and more, especially on Sundays," she replied, +pointing to her dirty lean bosom. + +"Again?" asked the young master in a tone of vexation, shrugging his +shoulders. "Why, if you are so sick, don't you come and get advice at the +dispensary? That is what the dispensary was built for. Haven't you been +told about it?" + +"Certainly we have, but I have not had any time to spare; have had to work +in the field, and at home, and look after the children, and no one to help +me; if I weren't all alone".... + + +III. + +Nekhliudof went into the hut. The uneven smoke-begrimed walls of the +dwelling were hung with various rags and clothes; and, in the living-room, +were literally covered with reddish cockroaches clustering around the holy +images and benches. + +In the middle of this dark, fetid apartment, not fourteen feet square, was +a huge crack in the ceiling; and in spite of the fact that it was braced up +in two places, the ceiling hung down so that it threatened to fall from +moment to moment. + +"Yes, the hut is very miserable," said the bárin, looking into the face of +Churis, who, it seems, had not cared to speak first about this state of +things. + +"It will crush us to death; it will crush the children," said the woman in +a tearful voice, attending to the stove which stood under the loft. + +"Hold your tongue," cried Churis sternly; and with a slight smile playing +under his mustaches, he turned to the master. "And I haven't the wit to +know what's to be done with it, your excellency,--with this hut and props +and planks. There's nothing to be done with them." + +"How can we live through the winter here? _Okh, okh!_ Oh, oh!" groaned the +old woman. + +"There's one thing--if we put in some more props and laid a new floor," +said the husband, interrupting her with a calm, practical expression, "and +threw over one set of rafters, then perhaps we might manage to get through +the winter. It is possible to live; but you'd have to put some props all +over the hut, like that: but if it gets shaken, then there won't be any +thing left of it. As long as it stands, it holds together," he concluded, +evidently perfectly contented that he appreciated this contingency. + +Nekhliudof was both vexed and grieved that Churis had got himself into such +a condition, without having come to him long before; since he had more than +once, during his sojourn on the estate, told the peasants, and insisted +upon it, that they should all apply directly to him for whatever they +needed. + +He now felt some indignation against the peasant; he angrily shrugged his +shoulders, and frowned. But the sight of the poverty in the midst of which +he found himself, and Churis's calm and self-satisfied appearance in +contrast with this poverty, changed his vexation into a sort of feeling of +melancholy and hopelessness. + +"Well, Iván, why on earth didn't you tell me about this before?" he asked +in a tone of reproach, as he took a seat on the filthy, unsteady bench. + +"I didn't dare to, your excellency," replied Churis with the same scarcely +perceptible smile, shuffling with his black, bare feet over the uneven +surface of the mud floor; but this he said so fearlessly and with such +composure, that it was hard to believe that he had any timidity about going +to his master. + +"We are mere peasants; how could we be so presuming?" began the old woman, +sobbing. + +"Hush up," said Churis, again addressing her. + +"It is impossible for you to live in this hut: it's all rotten," cried +Nekhliudof after a brief silence. "Now, this is how we shall manage it, my +friend"[6].... + +[Footnote 6: _bratets_, brother.] + +"I am listening." + +"Have you seen the improved stone cottages that I have been building at the +new farm,--the one with the undressed walls?" + +"Indeed I have seen them," replied Churis, with a smile that showed his +white teeth still unimpaired. "Everybody's agog at the way they're built. +Fine cottages! The boys were laughing and wondering if they wouldn't be +turned into granaries; they would be so secure against rats. Fine +cottages," he said in conclusion, with an expression of absurd perplexity, +shaking his head, "just like a jail!" + +"Yes, they're splendid cottages, dry and warm, and no danger of fire," +replied the bárin, a frown crossing his youthful face as he perceived the +peasant's involuntary sarcasm. + +"Without question, your excellency, fine cottages." + +"Well, then, one of these cottages is just finished. It is twenty-four feet +square, with an entry, and a barn, and it's entirely ready. I will let you +have it on credit if you say so, at cost price; you can pay for it at your +own convenience," said the bárin with a self-satisfied smile, which he +could not control, at the thought of his benevolence. "You can pull down +this old one," he went on to say; "it will make you a granary. We will also +move the pens. The water there is splendid. I will give you enough land for +a vegetable-garden, and I'll let you have a strip of land on all three +sides. You can live there in a decent way. Now, does not that please you?" +asked Nekhliudof, perceiving that as soon as he spoke of moving, Churis +became perfectly motionless, and looked at the ground without even a +shadow of a smile. + +"It's as your excellency wills," he replied, not raising his eyes. + +The old woman came forward as though something had stung her to the quick, +and began to speak; but her husband anticipated her. + +"It's as your excellency wills," he repeated resolutely, and at the same +time humbly glancing at his master, and tossing back his hair. "But it +would never do for us to live on a new farm." + +"Why not?" + +"Nay, your excellency, not if you move us over there: here we are wretched +enough, but over there we could never in the world get along. What kind of +peasants should we be there? Nay, nay, it is impossible for us to live +there." + +"But why not, pray?" + +"We should be totally ruined, your excellency." + +"But why can't you live there?" + +"What kind of a life would it be? Just think! it has never been lived in; +we don't know any thing about the water, no pasture anywhere. Here we have +had hemp-fields ever since we can remember, all manured; but what is there +there? Yes, what is there there? A wilderness! No hedges, no corn-kilns, no +sheds, no nothing at all! Oh, yes, your excellency; we should be ruined if +you took us there; we should be perfectly ruined. A new place, all unknown +to us," he repeated, shaking his head thoughtfully but resolutely. + +Nekhliudof tried to point out to the peasant that the change, on the +contrary, would be very advantageous for him; that they would plant hedges, +and build sheds; that the water there was excellent, and so on: but +Churis's obstinate silence exasperated him, and he accordingly felt that he +was speaking to no purpose. + +Churis made no objection to what he said; but when the master finished +speaking, he remarked with a crafty smile, that it would be best of all to +remove to that farm some of the old domestic servants, and Alyósha the +fool, so that they might watch over the grain there. + +"That would be worth while," he remarked, and smiled once more. "This is +foolish business, your excellency." + +"What makes you think the place is not inhabitable?" insisted Nekhliudof +patiently. "This place here isn't inhabitable, and hasn't been, and yet you +live here. But there, you will get settled there before you know it; you +will certainly find it easy".... + +"But, your excellency, kind sir,[7] how can it be compared?" replied Churis +eagerly, as though he feared that the master would not accept a conclusive +argument. "Here is our place in the world; we are happy in it; we are +accustomed to it, and the road and the pond--where would the old woman do +her washing? where would the cattle get watered? And all our peasant ways +are here; here from time out of mind. And here's the threshing-floor, and +the little garden, and the willows; and here my parents lived, and my +grandfather; and my father gave his soul into God's keeping here, and I too +would end my days here, your excellency. I ask nothing more than that. Be +good, and let the hut be put in order; we shall be always grateful for your +kindness: but no, not for any thing, would we spend our last days anywhere +else. Let us stay here and say our prayers," he continued, bowing low; "do +not take us from our nest, kind sir."[8] + +[Footnote 7: _bátiushka._] + +[Footnote 8: _bátiushka._] + +All the time that Churis was speaking, there was heard in the place under +the loft, where his wife was standing, sobs growing more and more violent; +and when the husband said "_kind sir_," she suddenly darted forward, and +with tears in her eyes threw herself at the bárin's feet. + +"Don't destroy us, benefactor; you are our father, you are our mother! +Where are you going to move us to? We are old folks; we have no one to help +us. You are to us as God is," lamented the old woman. + +Nekhliudof leaped up from the bench, and was going to lift the old woman; +but she, with a sort of passionate despair, beat her forehead on the earth +floor, and pushed aside the master's hand. + +"What is the matter with you? Get up, I beg of you. If you don't wish to +go, it is not necessary. I won't oblige you to," said he, waving his hand, +and retreating to the door. + +When Nekhliudof sat down on the bench again, and silence was restored in +the room, interrupted only by the sobs of the old woman, who was once more +busy under the loft, and was wiping away her tears with the sleeves of her +shirt, the young proprietor began to comprehend what was meant for the +peasant and his wife by the dilapidated little hut, the crumbling well with +the filthy pool, the decaying stalls and sheds, and the broken willows +which could be seen before the crooked window; and the feeling that arose +in him was burdensome, melancholy, and touched with shame. + +"Why didn't you tell the Commune last Sunday, Iván, that you needed a new +hut? I don't know, now, how to help you. I told you all at the first +meeting, that I had come to live in the country, and devote my life to you, +that I was ready to deprive myself of every thing to make you happy and +contented; and I vowed before God, now, that I would keep my word," said +the young proprietor, not knowing that such a manner of opening the heart +is incapable of arousing faith in any one, and especially in the Russian, +who loves not words but deeds, and is reluctant to be stirred up by +feelings, no matter how beautiful they may be. + +But the simple-hearted young man was so pleased with this feeling that he +experienced, that he could not help speaking. + +Churis leaned his head to one side, and slowly blinking, listened with +constrained attention to his master, as to a man to whom he must needs +listen, even though he says things not entirely good, and absolutely +foreign to his way of thinking. + +"But you see I cannot do all that everybody asks of me. If I did not refuse +some who ask me for wood, I myself should be left without any, and I could +not give to those who really needed. When I made this rule, I did it for +the regulation of the peasants' affairs; and I put it entirely in the hands +of the Commune. This wood now is not mine, but yours, you peasants', and I +cannot any longer dispose of it; but the Commune disposes of it, as you +know. Come to the meeting to-night. I will tell the Commune about your +request: if they are disposed to give you a new hut, well and good; but I +haven't any more wood. I wish with all my soul to help you; but if you +aren't willing to move, then it is no longer my affair, but the Commune's. +Do you understand me?" + +"Many thanks for your kindness," replied Churis in some agitation. "If you +will give me some lumber, then we can make repairs. What is the Commune? +It's a well-known fact that".... + +"No, you come." + +"I obey. I will come. Why shouldn't I come? Only this thing is sure: I +won't ask the Commune." + + +IV. + +The young proprietor evidently desired to ask some more questions of the +peasants. He did not move from the bench; and he glanced irresolutely, now +at Churis, now at the empty, unlighted stove. + +"Well, have you had dinner yet?" he asked at last. + +A mocking smile arose to Churis's lips, as though it were ridiculous to him +for his master to ask such foolish questions; he made no reply. + +"What do you mean,--dinner, benefactor?" said the old woman, sighing +deeply. "We've eaten a little bread; that's our dinner. We couldn't get any +vegetables to-day so as to boil some soup,[9] but we had a little +kvas,--enough for the children." + +[Footnote 9: _shchets_ for _shchi_.] + +"To-day was a fast-day for us, your excellency," remarked Churis +sarcastically, taking up his wife's words. "Bread and onions; that's the +way we peasants live. Howsomever, praise be to the Lord, I have a little +grain yet, thanks to your kindness; it's lasted till now; but there's +plenty of our peasants as ain't got any. Everywheres there's scarcity of +onions. Only a day or two ago they sent to Mikháïl the gardener, to get a +bunch for a farthing: couldn't get any anywheres. Haven't been to God's +church scarcely since Easter. Haven't had nothing to buy a taper for Mikóla +[St. Nicholas] with." + +Nekhliudof, not by hearsay nor by trust in the words of others, but by the +evidence of his own eyes, had long known the extreme depth of poverty into +which his peasantry had sunken: but the entire reality was in such perfect +contrast to his own bringing-up, the turn of his mind, and the course of +his life, that in spite of himself he kept forgetting the truth of it; and +every time when, as now, it was brought vividly, tangibly, before him, his +heart was torn with painful, almost unendurable melancholy, as though some +absolute and unavoidable punishment were torturing him. + +"Why are you so poor?" he exclaimed, involuntarily expressing his thought. + +"How could such as we help being poor, sir,[10] your excellency? Our land +is so bad, you yourself may be pleased to know,--clay and sand-heaps; and +surely we must have angered God, for this long time, ever since the +cholera, the corn won't grow. Our meadows and every thing else have been +growing worse and worse. And some of us have to work for the farm, and some +detailed for the manor-lands. And here I am with no one to help me, and I'm +getting old. I'd be glad enough to work, but I hain't no strength. And my +old woman's ailing; and every year there's a new girl born, and I have to +feed 'em all. I get tired out all alone, and here's seven dependent on me. +I must be a sinner in the eyes of the Lord God, I often think to myself. +And when God takes me off sudden-like, I feel it would be easier for me; +just as it's better for them than to lead such a dog's life here".... + +[Footnote 10: _bátiushka._] + +"Oh, _okh_!" groaned the old woman, as a sort of confirmation of her +husband's words. + +"And this is all the help I have," continued Churis, pointing to the +white-headed, unkempt little boy of seven, with a huge belly, who at this +moment, timidly and quietly pushing the door open, came into the hut, and, +resting his eyes in wonder and solemnity on the master, clung hold of +Churis's shirt-band with both hands. + +"This is all the assistance I have here," continued Churis in a sonorous +voice, laying his shaggy hand on the little lad's white hair. "When will he +be good for any thing? But my work isn't much good. When I reach old age I +shall be good for nothing; the rupture is getting the better of me. In wet +weather it makes me fairly scream. I am getting to be an old man, and yet I +have to take care of my land.[11] And here's Yermilof, Demkin, Zabref, all +younger than I am, and they have been freed from their land long ago. Well, +I haven't any one to help me with it; that's my misfortune. Have to feed so +many; that's where my struggle lies, your excellency." + +"I should be very glad to make it easier for you, truly. But how can I?" +asked the young bárin in a tone of sympathy, looking at the serf. + +"How make it easier? It's a well-known fact, if you have the land you must +do enforced labor also;[12] that's the regulation. I expect something from +this youngster. If only you'd be good enough to let him off from going to +school. But just a day or two ago, the officer[13] came and said that your +excellency wanted him to go to school. Do let him off; he has no capacity +for learning, your excellency. He's too young yet; he won't understand any +thing." + +[Footnote 11: The lands belonging to the Russian commune, or _mir_, were +periodically distributed by allotment, each full-grown peasant receiving as +his share a _tiagló_ representing what the average man and his wife were +capable of cultivating. When the period was long--ten years for +instance--it sometimes happened that a serf, by reason of illness, +laziness, or other misfortune, would find it hard to cultivate his share, +pay the tax on it, and also do the work required of him on his bárin's +land. Such was Churis's complaint.] + +[Footnote 12: _barshchina_: work on the master's land.] + +[Footnote 13: _zemski._] + +"No, brother, you're wrong there," said the bárin. "Your boy is old enough +to understand; it's time for him to be learning. Just think of it! How +he'll grow up, and learn about farming; yes, and he'll know his a-b-c's, +and know how to read; and read in church. He'll be a great help to you if +God lets him live," said Nekhliudof, trying to make himself as plain as +possible, and at the same time blushing and stammering. + +"Very true, your excellency. You don't want to do us an injury, but there's +no one to take care of the house; for while I and the old woman are doing +the enforced labor, the boy, though he's so young, is a great help, driving +the cattle and watering the horses. Whatever he is, he's a true muzhík;" +and Churis, with a smile, took the lad's nose between his fat fingers, and +deftly removed the mucus. + +"Nevertheless, you must send him to school, for now you are at home, and he +has plenty of time,--do you hear? Don't you fail." + +Churis sighed deeply, and made no reply. + + +V. + +"There's one other thing I wished to speak to you about," said Nekhliudof. +"Why don't you haul out your manure?" + +"What manure, sir,[14] your excellency? There isn't any to haul out. What +cattle have I got? One mare and colt; and last autumn I sold my heifer to +the porter,--that's all the cattle I've got." + +[Footnote 14: _bátiushka._] + +"I know you haven't much, but why did you sell your heifer?" asked the +bárin in amazement. + +"What have I got to feed her on?" + +"Didn't you have some straw for feeding the cow? The others did." + +"The others have their fields manured, but my land's all clay. I can't do +any thing with it." + +"Why don't you dress it, then, so it won't be clay? Then the land would +give you grain, and you'd have something to feed to your stock." + +"But I haven't any stock, so how am I going to get dressing?" + +"That's an odd _cercle vicieux_," said Nekhliudof to himself; and he +actually was at his wits' ends to find an answer for the peasant. + +"And I tell you this, your excellency, it ain't the manure that makes the +corn grow, but God," continued the peasant. "Now, one summer I had six +sheaves on one little unmanured piece of land, and only a twelfth as much +on that which was manured well. No one like God," he added with a sigh. +"Yes, and my stock are always dying off. Five years past I haven't had any +luck with 'em. Last summer one heifer died; had to sell another, hadn't any +thing to feed her on; and last year my best cow perished. They were driving +her home from pasture; nothing the matter, but suddenly she staggered and +staggered. And so now it's all empty here. Just my bad luck!" + +"Well, brother, since you say that you have no cattle to help you make +fodder, and no fodder for your cattle, here's something towards a cow," +said Nekhliudof, reddening, and fetching forth from his pocket a packet of +crumpled bank-notes and untying it. "Buy you a cow at my expense, and get +some fodder from the granary: I will give orders. See to it that you have a +cow by next Sunday. I shall come to see." + +Churis hesitated long; and when he did not offer to take the money, +Nekhliudof laid it down on the end of the table, and a still deeper flush +spread over his face. + +"Many thanks for your kindness," said Churis, with his ordinary smile, +which was somewhat sarcastic. + +The old woman sighed heavily several times as she stood under the loft, and +seemed to be repeating a prayer. + +The situation was embarrassing for the young prince: he hastily got up from +the bench, went out into the entry, and called to Churis to follow him. The +sight of the man whom he had been befriending was so pleasant that he found +it hard to tear himself away. + +"I am glad to help you," said he, halting by the well. "It's in my power to +help you, because I know that you are not lazy. You will work, and I will +assist you; and, with God's aid, you will come out all right." + +"There's no hope of coming out all right, your excellency," said Churis, +suddenly assuming a serious and even stern expression of countenance, as +though the young man's assurance that he would come out all right had +awakened all his opposition. "In my father's time my brothers and I did not +see any lack; but when he died, we broke all up. It kept going from bad to +worse. Perfect wretchedness!" + +"Why did you break up?" + +"All on account of the women, your excellency. It was just after your +grandfather died; when he was alive, we should not have ventured to do it: +then the present order of things came in. He was just like you, he took an +interest in every thing; and we should not have dared to separate. The late +master did not like to look after the peasants; but after your +grandfather's time, Andréï Ilyitch took charge. God forgive him! he was a +drunken, careless man. We came to him once and again with complaints,--no +living on account of the women,--begged him to let us separate. Well, he +put it off, and put it off; but at last things came to such a pass, the +women kept each to their own part; we began to live apart; and, of course, +what could a single peasant do? Well, there wasn't no law or order. Andréï +Ilyitch managed simply to suit himself. 'Take all you can get.' And +whatever he could extort from a peasant, he took without asking. Then the +poll-tax was raised, and they began to exact more provisions, and we had +less and less land, and the grain stopped growing. Well, when the new +allotment was made, then he took away from us our manured land, and added +it to the master's, the villain, and ruined us entirely. He ought to have +been hung. Your father[15]--the kingdom of heaven be his!--was a good +bárin, but it was rarely enough that we ever had sight of him: he always +lived in Moscow. Well, of course they used to drive the carts in pretty +often. Sometimes it would be the season of bad roads,[16] and no fodder; +but no matter! The bárin couldn't get along without it. We did not dare to +complain at this, but there wasn't system. But now your grace lets any of +us peasants see your face, and so a change has come over us; and the +overseer is a different kind of man. Now we know for sure that we have a +bárin. And it is impossible to say how grateful your peasants are for your +kindness. But before you came, there wasn't any real bárin: every one was +bárin. Ilyitch was bárin, and his wife put on the airs of a lady,[17] and +the scribe from the police-station was bárin. Too many of em! _ukh!_ the +peasants had to put up with many trials." + +Again Nekhliudof experienced a feeling akin to shame or remorse. He put on +his hat, and went on his way. + +[Footnote 15: _bátiushka._] + +[Footnote 16: _raspútitsa._] + +[Footnote 17: _báruinya._] + + +VI. + +"Yukhvanka the clever[18] wants to sell a horse," was what Nekhliudof next +read in his note-book; and he proceeded along the street to Yukhvanka's +place.[19] Yukhvanka's hut was carefully thatched with straw from the +threshing-floor of the estate; the frame-work was of new light-gray +aspen-wood (also from stock belonging to the estate), had two handsome +painted shutters for the window, and a porch with eaves and ingenious +balustrades cut out of deal planks. + +[Footnote 18: _Yukhvánka-Mudr'yónui._] + +[Footnote 19: _dvor._] + +The narrow entry and the cold hut were also in perfect order; but the +general impression of sufficiency and comfort given by this establishment +was somewhat injured by a barn enclosed in the gates, which had a +dilapidated hedge and a sagging pent roof, appearing from behind it. + +Just as Nekhliudof approached the steps from one side, two peasant women +came up on the other carrying a tub full of water. One was Yukhvanka's +wife, the other his mother. + +The first was a robust, healthy-looking woman, with an extraordinarily +exuberant bosom, and wide fat cheeks. She wore a clean shirt embroidered on +the sleeves and collar, an apron of the same material, a new linen skirt, +peasant's shoes, a string of beads, and an elegant four-cornered head-dress +of embroidered red paper and spangles. + +The end of the water-yoke was not in the least unsteady, but was firmly +settled on her wide and solid shoulder. Her easy forcefulness, manifested +in her rosy face, in the curvature of her back, and the measured swing of +her arms and legs, made it evident that she had splendid health and rugged +strength. + +Yukhvanka's mother, balancing the other end of the yoke, was, on the +contrary, one of those elderly women who seem to have reached the final +limit of old age and decrepitude. Her bony frame, clad in a black +dilapidated shirt and a faded linen skirt, was bent so that the water-yoke +rested rather on her back than on her shoulder. Her two hands, whose +distorted fingers seemed to clutch the yoke, were of a strange dark +chestnut color, and were convulsively cramped. Her drooping head, wrapped +up in some sort of a clout, bore the most monstrous evidences of indigence +and extreme old age. + +From under her narrow brow, perfectly covered with deep wrinkles, two red +eyes, unprotected by lashes, gazed with leaden expression to the ground. +One yellow tooth protruded from her sunken upper lip, and, constantly +moving, sometimes came in contact with her sharp chin. The wrinkles on the +lower part of her face and neck hung down like little bags, quivering at +every motion. + +She breathed heavily and hoarsely; but her bare, distorted legs, though it +seemed as if they would have barely strength to drag along over the ground, +moved with measured steps. + + +VII. + +Almost stumbling against the prince, the young wife precipitately set down +the tub, showed a little embarrassment, dropped a courtesy, and then with +shining eyes glanced up at him, and, endeavoring to hide a slight smile +behind the sleeve of her embroidered shirt, ran up the steps, clattering in +her wooden shoes. + +"Mother,[20] you take the water-yoke to aunt Nastásia," said she, pausing +at the door, and addressing the old woman. + +[Footnote 20: _mátushka._] + +The modest young proprietor looked sternly but scrutinizingly at the rosy +woman, frowned, and turned to the old dame, who, seizing the yoke with her +crooked fingers, submissively lifted it to her shoulder, and was about to +direct her steps to the adjacent hut. + +"Your son at home?" asked the prince. + +The old woman, her bent form bent more than usual, made an obeisance, and +tried to say something in reply, but, suddenly putting her hand to her +mouth, was taken with such a fit of coughing, that Nekhliudof without +waiting went into the hut. + +Yukhvanka, who had been sitting on the bench in the "red corner,"[21] when +he saw the prince, threw himself upon the oven, as though he were anxious +to hide from him, hastily thrust something away in the loft, and, with +mouth and eyes twitching, squeezed himself close to the wall, as though to +make way for the prince. + +[Footnote 21: Where the holy images and the lighted taper are to be found.] + +Yukhvanka was a light-complexioned fellow, thirty years of age, spare, with +a young, pointed beard. He was well proportioned, and rather handsome, save +for the unpleasant expression of his hazel eyes, under his knitted brow, +and for the lack of two front teeth, which immediately attracted one's +attention because his lips were short and constantly parted. + +He wore a Sunday shirt with bright red gussets, striped print drawers, and +heavy boots with wrinkled legs. + +The interior of Vanka's hut was not as narrow and gloomy as that of +Churis's, though it was fully as stifling, as redolent of smoke and +sheep-skin, and showing as disorderly an array of peasant garments and +utensils. + +Two things here strangely attracted the attention,--a small damaged samovár +standing on the shelf, and a black frame near the _ikon_, with the remains +of a dirty mirror and the portrait of some general in a red uniform. + +Nekhliudof looked with distaste on the samovár, the general's portrait, and +the loft, where stuck out, from under some rags, the end of a +copper-mounted pipe. Then he turned to the peasant. + +"How do you do, Yepifán?" said he, looking into his eyes. + +Yepifán bowed low, and mumbled, "Good-morning, 'slency,"[22] with a +peculiar abbreviation of the last word, while his eyes wandered restlessly +from the prince to the ceiling, and from the ceiling to the floor, and not +pausing on any thing. Then he hastily ran to the loft, dragged out a coat, +and began to put it on. + +[Footnote 22: _vaciaso_ for _vashe siátelstvo_ (your excellency).] + +"Why are you putting on your coat?" asked Nekhliudof, sitting down on the +bench, and evidently endeavoring to look at Yepifán as sternly as possible. + +"How can I appear before you without it, 'slency? You see we can +understand".... + +"I have come to ask you why you need to sell a horse? Have you many horses? +What horse do you wish to sell?" said the prince without wasting words, but +propounding questions that he had evidently pre-considered. + +"We are greatly beholden to you, 'slency, that you do not think it beneath +you to visit me, a mere peasant," replied Yukhvanka, casting hasty glances +at the general's portrait, at the stove, at the prince's boots, and every +thing else except Nekhliudof's face. "We always pray God for your 'slency." + +"Why sell the horse?" repeated Nekhliudof, raising his voice, and coughing. + +Yukhvanka sighed, tossed back his hair (again his glance roved about the +hut), and noticing the cat that lay on the bench contentedly purring, he +shouted out to her, "Scat, you rubbish!" and quickly addressed himself to +the bárin. "A horse, 'slency, which ain't worth any thing. If the beast was +good for any thing, I shouldn't think of selling him, 'slency." + +"How many horses have you in all?" + +"Three horses, 'slency." + +"No colts?" + +"Of course, 'slency. There is one colt." + + +VIII. + +"Come, show me your horses. Are they in the yard?"[23] + +[Footnote 23: _dvor._] + +"Indeed they are, 'slency. I have done as I was told, 'slency. Could we +fail to heed you, 'slency? Yakof Ilyitch told me not to send the horses out +to pasture. 'The prince,' says he, 'is coming to look at them,' and so we +didn't send them. For, of course, we shouldn't dare to disobey you, +'slency." + +While Nekhliudof was on his way to the door, Yukhvanka snatched down his +pipe from the loft, and flung it into the stove. His lips were still drawn +in with the same expression of constraint as when the prince was looking at +him. + +A wretched little gray mare, with thin tail, all stuck up with burrs, was +sniffing at the filthy straw under the pent roof. A long-legged colt two +months old, of some nondescript color, with bluish hoofs and nose, followed +close behind her. + +In the middle of the yard stood a pot-bellied brown gelding with closed +eyes and thoughtfully pendent head. It was apparently an excellent little +horse for a peasant. + +"So these are all your horses?" + +"No, indeed, 'slency. Here's still another mare, and here's the little +colt," replied Yukhvanka, pointing to the horses, which the prince could +not help seeing. + +"I see. Which one do you propose to sell?" + +"This here one, 'slency," he replied, waving his jacket in the direction of +the somnolent gelding, and constantly winking and sucking in his lips. + +The gelding opened his eyes, and lazily switched his tail. + +"He does not seem to be old, and he's fairly plump," said Nekhliudof. +"Bring him up, and show me his teeth. I can tell if he's old." + +"You can't tell by one indication, 'slency. The beast isn't worth a +farthing. He's peculiar. You have to judge both by tooth and limb, +'slency," replied Yukhvanka, smiling very gayly, and letting his eyes rove +in all directions. + +"What nonsense! Bring him here, I tell you." + +Yukhvanka stood still smiling, and made a deprecatory gesture; and it was +only when Nekhliudof cried angrily, "Well, what are you up to?" that he +moved toward the shed, seized the halter, and began to pull at the horse, +scaring him, and getting farther and farther away as the horse resisted. + +The young prince was evidently vexed to see this, and perhaps, also, he +wished to show his own shrewdness. + +"Give me the halter," he cried. + +"Excuse me. It's impossible for you, 'slency,--don't".... + +But Nekhliudof went straight up to the horse's head, and, suddenly seizing +him by the ears, threw him to the ground with such force, that the gelding, +who, as it seems, was a very peaceful peasant steed, began to kick and +strangle in his endeavors to get away. + +When Nekhliudof perceived that it was perfectly useless to exert his +strength so, and looked at Yukhvanka, who was still smiling, the thought +most maddening at his time of life occurred to him,--that Yukhvanka was +laughing at him, and regarding him as a mere child. + +He reddened, let go of the horse's ears, and, without making use of the +halter, opened the creature's mouth, and looked at his teeth: they were +sound, the crowns full, so far as the young man had time to make his +observations. No doubt the horse was in his prime. + +Meantime Yukhvanka came to the shed, and, seeing that the harrow was lying +out of its place, seized it, and stood it up against the wattled hedge. + +"Come here," shouted the prince, with an expression of childish annoyance +in his face, and almost with tears of vexation and wrath in his voice. +"What! call this horse old?" + +"Excuse me, 'slency, very old, twenty years old at least. A horse that".... + +"Silence! You are a liar and a good-for-nothing. No decent peasant will +lie, there's no need for him to," said Nekhliudof, choking with the angry +tears that filled his throat. + +He stopped speaking, lest he should be detected in weeping before the +peasant. Yukhvanka also said nothing, and had the appearance of a man who +was almost on the verge of tears, blew his nose, and slowly shook his head. + +"Well, how are you going to plough when you have disposed of this horse?" +continued Nekhliudof, calming himself with an effort, so as to speak in his +ordinary voice. "You are sent out into the field on purpose to drive the +horses for ploughing, and you wish to dispose of your last horse? And I +should like to know why you need to lie about it." + +In proportion as the prince calmed down, Yukhvanka also calmed down. He +straightened himself up, and, while he sucked in his lips constantly, he +let his eyes rove about from one object to another. + +"Lie to you, 'slency? We are no worse off than others in going to work." + +"But what will you go on?" + +"Don't worry. We will do your work, 'slency," he replied, starting up the +gelding, and driving him away. "Even if we didn't need money, I should want +to get rid of him." + +"Why do you need money?" + +"Haven't no grain, 'slency; and besides, we peasants have to pay our debts, +'slency." + +"How is it you have no grain? Others who have families have corn enough; +but you have no family, and you are in want. Where is it all gone?" + +"Ate it up, 'slency, and now we haven't a bit. I will buy a horse in the +autumn, 'slency." + +"Don't for a moment think of selling your horse." + +"But if we don't then what'll become of us, 'slency? No grain, and +forbidden to sell any thing," he replied, turning his head to one side, +sucking in his lips, and suddenly glancing boldly into the prince's face. +"Of course we shall die of starvation." + +"Look here, brother," cried Nekhliudof, paling, and experiencing a feeling +of righteous indignation against the peasant. "I can't endure such peasants +as you are. It will go hard with you." + +"Just as you will, 'slency," he replied, shutting his eyes with an +expression of feigned submission: "I should not think of disobeying you. +But it comes not from any fault of mine. Of course, I may not please you, +'slency; at all events, I can do as you wish; only I don't see why I +deserve to be punished." + +"This is why: because your yard is exposed, your manure is not ploughed in, +your hedges are broken down, and yet you sit at home smoking your pipe, and +don't work; because you don't give a crust of bread to your mother, who +gave you your whole place,[24] and you let your wife beat her, and she has +to come to me with her complaints." + +[Footnote 24: _khozyáïstvo._] + +"Excuse me, 'slency, I don't know what you mean by smoking your pipe," +replied Yukhvanka in a constrained tone, showing beyond peradventure that +the complaint about his smoking touched him to the quick. "It is possible +to say any thing about a man." + +"Now you're lying again! I myself saw".... + +"How could I venture to lie to you, 'slency?" + +Nekhliudof made no answer, but bit his lip, and began to walk back and +forth in the yard. Yukhvanka, standing in one place, and not lifting his +eyes, followed the prince's legs. + +"See here, Yepifán," said Nekhliudof in a childishly gentle voice, coming +to a pause before the peasant, and endeavoring to hide his vexation, "it is +impossible to live so, and you are working your own destruction. Just +think. If you want to be a good peasant, then turn over a new leaf, cease +your evil courses, stop lying, don't get drunk any more, honor your mother. +You see, I know all about you. Take hold of your work; don't steal from the +crown woods, for the sake of going to the tavern. Think how well off you +might be. If you really need any thing, then come to me; tell me honestly, +what you need and why you need it; and don't tell lies, but tell the whole +truth, and then I won't refuse you any thing that I can possibly grant." + +"Excuse me, 'slency, I think I understand you, 'slency," replied Yukhvanka +smiling as though he comprehended the entire significance of the prince's +words. + +That smile and answer completely disenchanted Nekhliudof so far as he had +any hope of reforming the man and of turning him into the path of virtue by +means of moral suasion. It seemed to him hard that it should be wasted +energy when he had the power to warn the peasant, and that all that he had +said was exactly what he should not have said. + +He shook his head gravely, and went into the house. The old woman was +sitting on the threshold and groaning heavily, as it seemed to the young +proprietor as a sign of approbation of his words which she had overheard. + +"Here's something for you to get bread with," said Nekhliudof in her ear, +pressing a bank-note into her hand. "But keep it for yourself, and don't +give it to Yepifán, else he'll drink it up." + +The old woman with her distorted hand laid hold of the door-post, and tried +to get up. She began to pour out her thanks to the prince; her head began +to wag, but Nekhliudof was already on the other side of the street when she +got to her feet. + + +IX. + +"Davidka Byélui[25] asks for grain and posts," was what followed +Yukhvanka's case in the note-book. + +[Footnote 25: Little David White.] + +After passing by a number of places, Nekhliudof came to a turn in the lane, +and there fell in with his overseer Yakof Alpátitch, who, while the prince +was still at a distance, took off his oiled cap, and pulling out a crumpled +bandanna handkerchief began to wipe his fat red face. + +"Cover yourself, Yakof! Yakof, cover yourself, I tell you." + +"Where do you wish to go, your excellency?" asked Yakof, using his cap to +shield his eyes from the sun, but not putting it on. + +"I have been at Yukhvanka's. Tell me, pray, why does he act so?" asked the +prince as he walked along the street. + +"Why indeed, your excellency!" echoed the overseer as he followed behind +the prince in a respectful attitude. He put on his cap, and began to twist +his mustache. + +"What's to be done with him? He's thoroughly good for nothing, lazy, +thievish, a liar; he persecutes his mother, and to all appearances he is +such a confirmed good-for-nothing that there is no reforming him." + +"I didn't know, your excellency, that he displeased you so." + +"And his wife," continued the prince, interrupting the overseer, "seems +like a bad woman. The old mother is dressed worse than a beggar, and has +nothing to eat; but she wears all her best clothes, and so does he. I +really don't know what is to be done with them." + +Yakof knit his brows thoughtfully when Nekhliudof spoke of Yukhvanka's +wife. + +"Well, if he behaves so, your excellency," began the overseer, "then it +will be necessary to find some way to correct things. He is in abject +poverty like all the peasants who have no assistance, but he seems to +manage his affairs quite differently from the others. He's a clever fellow, +knows how to read, and he's far from being a dishonest peasant. At the +collection of the poll-taxes he was always on hand. And for three years, +while I was overseer he was bailiff, and no fault was found with him. In +the third year the warden took it into his head to depose him, so he was +obliged to take to farming. Perhaps when he lived in town at the station he +got drunk sometimes, so we had to devise some means. They used to threaten +him, in fun, and he came to his senses again. He was good-natured, and got +along well with his family. But as it does not please you to use these +means, I am sure I don't know what we are to do with him. He has really got +very low. He can't be sent into the army, because, as you may be pleased to +remember, two of his teeth are missing. Yes, and there are others besides +him, I venture to remind you, who absolutely haven't any".... + +"Enough of that, Yakof," interrupted Nekhliudof, smiling shrewdly. "You and +I have discussed that again and again. You know what ideas I have on this +subject; and whatever you may say to me, I still remain of the same +opinion." + +"Certainly, your excellency, you understand it all," said Yakof, shrugging +his shoulders, and looking askance at the prince as though what he saw were +worthy of no consideration. "But as far as the old woman is concerned, I +beg you to see that you are disturbing yourself to no purpose," he +continued. "Certainly it is true that she has brought up the orphans, she +has fed Yukhvanka, and got him a wife, and so forth; but you know that is +common enough among peasants. When the mother or father has transferred the +property[26] to the son, then the new owners get control, and the old +mother is obliged to work for her own living to the utmost of her strength. +Of course they are lacking in delicate feelings, but this is common enough +among the peasantry; and so I take the liberty of explaining to you that +you are stirred up about the old woman all for nothing. She is a clever old +woman, and a good housewife;[27] is there any reason for a gentleman to +worry over her? Well, she has quarrelled with her daughter-in-law; maybe +the young woman struck her: that's like a woman, and they would make up +again while you torment yourself. You really take it all too much to +heart," said the overseer looking with a certain expression of fondness +mingled with condescension at the prince, who was walking silently with +long strides before him up the street. + +[Footnote 26: _khozyáïstvo._] + +[Footnote 27: _khozyáïka._] + +"Will you go home now?" he added. + +"No, to Davidka Byélui's or Kazyól's--what is his name?" + +"Well, he's a good-for-nothing, I assure you. All the race of the Kazyóls +are of the same sort. I haven't had any success with him; he cares for +nothing. Yesterday I rode past the peasant's field, and his buckwheat +wasn't even sowed yet. What do you wish done with such people? The old man +taught his son, but still he's a good-for-nothing just the same; whether +for himself or for the estate, he makes a bungle of every thing. Neither +the warden nor I have been able to do any thing with him: we've sent him to +the station-house, and we've punished him at home, because you are pleased +now to like".... + +"Who? the old man?" + +"Yes, the old man. The warden more than once has punished him before the +whole assembly, and, would you believe it? he would shake himself, go home, +and be as bad as ever. And Davidka, I assure your excellency, is a +law-abiding peasant, and a quick-witted peasant; that is, he doesn't smoke +and doesn't drink," explained Yakof; "and yet he's worse than the other who +gets drunk. There's nothing else to do with him than to make a soldier of +him or send him to Siberia. All the Kazyóls are the same; and Matriushka +who lives in the village belongs to their family, and is the same sort of +cursed good-for-nothing. Don't you care to have me here, your excellency?" +inquired the overseer, perceiving that the prince did not heed what he was +saying. + +"No, go away," replied Nekhliudof absent-mindedly, and turned his steps +toward Davidka Byélui's. + +Davidka's hovel[28] stood askew and alone at the very edge of the village. +It had neither yard, nor cornkiln, nor barn. Only some sort of dirty stalls +for cattle were built against one side. On the other a heap of brush-wood +and logs was piled up, in imitation of a yard.[29] + +[Footnote 28: _izbá._] + +[Footnote 29: _dvor._] + +Tall green steppe-grass was growing in the place where the court-yard +should have been. + +There was no living creature to be seen near the hovel, except a sow lying +in the mire at the threshold, and grunting. + +Nekhliudof tapped at the broken window; but as no one made answer, he went +into the entry and shouted, "Holloa there!"[30] + +[Footnote 30: _khozyáeva_; literally, "master and mistress."] + +This also brought no response. He passed through the entry, peered into the +empty stalls, and entered the open hut. + +An old red cock and two hens with ruffs were scratching with their legs, +and strutting about over the floor and benches. When they saw a man they +spread their wings, and, cackling with terror, flew against the walls, and +one took refuge on the oven. + +The whole hut, which was not quite fourteen feet[31] square, was occupied +by the oven with its broken pipe, a loom, which in spite of its being +summer-time was not taken down, and a most filthy table made of a split and +uneven plank. + +[Footnote 31: Six _arshin_.] + +Although it was a dry situation, there was a filthy puddle at the door, +caused by the recent rain, which had leaked through roof and ceiling. Loft +there was none. It was hard to realize that this was a human habitation, +such decided evidence of neglect and disorder was impressed upon both the +exterior and the interior of the hovel; nevertheless, in this hovel lived +Davidka Byélui and all his family. + +At the present moment, notwithstanding the heat of the June day, Davidka, +with his head covered by his sheep-skin,[32] was fast asleep, curled up on +one corner of the oven. The panic-stricken hen, skipping up on the oven, +and growing more and more agitated, took up her position on Davidka's back, +but did not awaken him. + +[Footnote 32: _polushubok._] + +Nekhliudof, seeing no one in the hovel, was about to go, when a prolonged +humid sigh betrayed the sleeper.[33] + +[Footnote 33: _khozyáïn._] + +"Holloa! who's there?" cried the prince. + +A second prolonged sigh was heard from the oven. + +"Who's there? Come here!" + +Still another sigh, a sort of a bellow, and a heavy yawn responded to the +prince's call. + +"Well, who are you?" + +Something moved slightly on the oven. The skirt of a torn sheep-skin[34] +was lifted; one huge leg in a dilapidated boot was put down, then another, +and finally Davidka's entire figure emerged. He sat up on the oven, and +rubbed his eyes drowsily and morosely with his fist. + +[Footnote 34: _tulup._] + +Slowly shaking his head, and yawning, he looked down into the hut, and, +seeing the prince, began to make greater haste than before; but still his +motions were so slow, that Nekhliudof had time to walk back and forth three +times from the puddle to the loom before Davidka got down from the oven. + +Davidka Byélui or David White was white in reality: his hair, and his body, +and his face all were perfectly white. + +He was tall and very stout, but stout as peasants are wont to be, that is, +not in the waist alone, but in the whole body. His stoutness, however, was +of a peculiar flabby, unhealthy kind. His rather comely face, with +pale-blue good-natured eyes, and a wide trimmed beard, bore the impress of +ill health. There was not the slightest trace of tan or blood: it was of a +uniform yellowish ashen tint, with pale livid circles under the eyes, quite +as though his face were stuffed with fat or bloated. + +His hands were puffy and yellow, like the hands of men afflicted with +dropsy, and they wore a growth of fine white hair. He was so drowsy that he +could scarcely open his eyes or cease from staggering and yawning. + +"Well, aren't you ashamed of yourself," began Nekhliudof, "sleeping in the +very best part of the day,[35] when you ought to be attending to your work, +when you haven't any corn?" + +[Footnote 35: Literally, "middle of the white day."] + +As Davidka little by little shook off his drowsiness, and began to realize +that it was the prince who was standing before him, he folded his arms +across his stomach, hung his head, inclining it a trifle to one side, and +did not move a limb or say a word; but the expression of his face and the +pose of his whole body seemed to say, "I know, I know; it is an old story +with me. Well, strike me, if it must be: I will endure it." + +He evidently was anxious for the prince to get through speaking and give +him his thrashing as quickly as possible, even if he struck him severely on +his swollen cheeks, and then leave him in peace. + +Perceiving that Davidka did not understand him, Nekhliudof endeavored by +various questions to rouse the peasant from his vexatiously obstinate +silence. + +"Why have you asked me for wood when you have enough to last you a whole +month here, and you haven't had any thing to do? What?" + +Davidka still remained silent, and did not move. + +"Well, answer me." + +Davidka muttered something, and blinked his white eyelashes. + +"You must go to work, brother. What will become of you if you don't work? +Now you have no grain, and what's the reason of it? Because your land is +badly ploughed, and not harrowed, and no seed put in at the right +time,--all from laziness. You asked me for grain: well, let us suppose that +I gave it to you, so as to keep you from starving to death, still it is not +becoming to do so. Whose grain do I give you? whose do you think? Answer +me,--whose grain do I give you?" demanded Nekhliudof obstinately. + +"The Lord's," muttered Davidka, raising his eyes timidly and questioningly. + +"But where did the Lord's grain come from? Think for yourself, who ploughed +for it? who harrowed? who planted it? who harvested it? The peasants, hey? +Just look here: if the Lord's grain is given to the peasants, then those +peasants who work most will get most; but you work less than anybody. You +are complained about on all sides. You work less than all the others, and +yet you ask for more of the Lord's grain than all the rest. Why should it +be given to you, and not to the others? Now, if all, like you, lay on their +backs, it would not be long before everybody in the world died of +starvation. Brother, you've got to labor. This is disgraceful. Do you hear, +David?" + +"I hear you," said the other slowly through his teeth. + + +X. + +At this moment, the window was darkened by the head of a peasant woman who +passed carrying some linen on a yoke, and presently Davidka's mother came +into the hovel. She was a tall woman, fifty years old, very fresh and +lively. Her ugly face was covered with pock-marks and wrinkles; but her +straight, firm nose, her delicate, compressed lips, and her keen gray eyes +gave witness to her mental strength and energy. + +The angularity of her shoulders, the flatness of her chest, the thinness of +her hands, and the solid muscles of her black bare legs, made it evident +that she had long ago ceased to be a woman, and had become a mere drudge. + +She came hurrying into the hovel, shut the door, set down her linen, and +looked angrily at her son. + +Nekhliudof was about to say something to her, but she turned her back on +him, and began to cross herself before the black wooden _ikon_, that was +visible behind the loom. + +When she had thus done, she adjusted the dirty checkered handkerchief which +was tied around her head, and made a low obeisance to the prince. + +"A pleasant Lord's day to you, excellency," she said. "God spare you; you +are our father." + +When Davidka saw his mother he grew confused, bent his back a little, and +hung his head still lower. + +"Thanks, Arína," replied Nekhliudof. "I have just been talking with your +son about your affairs."[36] + +Arína or Aríshka Burlák,[37] as the peasants used to call her when she was +a girl, rested her chin on the clinched fist of her right hand, which she +supported with the palm of the left, and, without waiting for the prince to +speak further, began to talk so sharply and loud that the whole hovel was +filled with the sound of her voice; and from outside it might have been +concluded that several women had suddenly fallen into a discussion. + +[Footnote 36: _khozyáïstvo._] + +[Footnote 37: clod-hopper.] + +"What, my father, what is then to be said to him? You can't talk to him as +to a man. Here he stands, the lout," she continued contemptuously, wagging +her head in the direction of Davidka's woe-begone, stolid form. + +"How are _my_ affairs, your excellency? We are poor. In your whole village +there are none so bad off as we are, either for our own work or for yours. +It's a shame! And it's all his fault. I bore him, fed him, gave him to +drink. Didn't expect to have such a lubber. There is but one end to the +story. Grain is all gone, and no more work to be got out of him than from +that piece of rotten wood. All he knows is to lie on top of the oven, or +else he stands here, and scratches his empty pate," she said, mimicking +him. + +"If you could only frighten him, father! I myself beseech you: punish him, +for the Lord God's sake! send him off as a soldier,--it's all one. But he's +no good to me,--that's the way it is." + +"Now, aren't you ashamed, Davidka, to bring your mother to this?" said +Nekhliudof reproachfully, addressing the peasant. + +Davidka did not move. + +"One might think that he was a sick peasant," continued Arína, with the +same eagerness and the same gestures; "but only to look at him you can see +he's fatter than the pig at the mill. It would seem as if he might have +strength enough to work on something, the lubber! But no, not he! He +prefers to curl himself up on top of the oven. And even when he undertakes +to do any thing, it would make you sick even to look at him, the way he +goes about the work! He wastes time when he gets up, when he moves, when he +does any thing," said she, dwelling on the words, and awkwardly swaying +from side to side with her angular shoulders. + +"Now, here to-day my old man himself went to the forest after wood, and +told him to dig a hole; but he did not even put his hand to the shovel." + +She paused for a moment. + +"He has killed me," she suddenly hissed, gesticulating with her arms, and +advancing toward her son with threatening gesture. "Curse your smooth, bad +face!" + +She scornfully, and at the same time despairingly, turned from him, spat, +and again addressed the prince with the same animation, still swinging her +arms, but with tears in her eyes. + +"I am the only one, benefactor. My old man is sick, old: yes, and I get no +help out of him; and I am the only one at all. And this fellow hangs around +my neck like a stone. If he would only die, then it would be easier; that +would be the end of it. He lets me starve, the poltroon. You are our +father. There's no help for me. My daughter-in-law died of work, and I +shall too." + + +XI. + +"How did she die?" inquired Nekhliudof, somewhat sceptically. + +"She died of hard work, as God knows, benefactor. We brought her last year +from Baburin," she continued, suddenly changing her wrathful expression to +one of tearfulness and grief. "Well, the woman[38] was young, fresh, +obliging, good stuff. As a girl, she lived at home with her father in +clover, never knew want; and when she came to us, then she learned to do +our work,--for the estate and at home and everywhere.... She and I--that +was all to do it. What was it to me? I was used to it. She was going to +have a baby, good father; and she began to suffer pain; and all because she +worked beyond her strength. Well, she did herself harm, the poor little +sweetheart. Last summer, about the time of the feast of Peter and Paul, she +had a poor little boy born. But there was no bread. We ate whatever we +could get, my father. She went to work too soon: her milk all dried up. The +baby was her first-born. There was no cow, and we were mere peasants. She +had to feed him on rye. Well, of course, it was sheer folly. It kept pining +away on this. And when the child died, she became so down-spirited,--she +would sob and sob, and howl and howl; and then it was poverty and work, and +all the time going from bad to worse. So she passed away in the summer, +the sweetheart, at the time of the feast of St. Mary's Intercession. He +brought her to it, the beast," she cried, turning to her son with wrathful +despair. "I wanted to ask your excellency a favor," she continued after a +short pause, lowering her voice, and making an obeisance. + +[Footnote 38: _baba._] + +"What?" asked Nekhliudof in some constraint. + +"You see he's a young peasant still. He demands so much work of me. To-day +I am alive, to-morrow I may die. How can he live without a wife? He won't +be any good to you at all. Help us to find some one for him, good father." + +"That is, you want to get a wife for him? What? What an idea!" + +"God's will be done! You are in the place of parents to us." + +And after making a sign to her son, she and the man threw themselves on the +floor at the prince's feet. + +"Why do you stoop to the ground?" asked Nekhliudof peevishly, taking her by +the shoulder. "You know I don't like this sort of thing. Marry your son, of +course, if you have a girl in view. I should be very glad if you had a +daughter-in-law to help you." + +The old woman got up, and began to rub her dry eyes with her sleeves. +Davidka followed her example, and, rubbing his eyes with his weak fist, +with the same patiently-submissive expression, continued to stand, and +listen to what Arína said. + +"Plenty of brides, certainly. Here's Vasiutka Mikheïkin's daughter, and a +right good girl she is; but the girl would not come to us without your +consent." + +"Isn't she willing?" + +"No, benefactor, she isn't." + +"Well, what's to be done? I can't compel her. Select some one else. If you +can't find one at home, go to another village. I will pay for her, only she +must come of her own free will. It is impossible to marry her by force. +There's no law allows that; that would be a great sin." + +"_E-e-kh!_ benefactor! Is it possible that any one would come to us of her +own accord, seeing our way of life, our wretchedness? Not even the wife of +a soldier would like to undergo such want. What peasant would let us have +his daughter?[39] It is not to be expected. You see we're in the very +depths of poverty. They will say, 'Since you starved one to death, it will +be the same with my daughter.' Who is to give her?" she added, shaking her +head dubiously. "Give us your advice, excellency." + +[Footnote 39: _dyevka_, marriageable girl.] + +"Well, what can I do?" + +"Think of some one for us, kind sir," repeated Arína urgently. "What are we +to do?" + +"How can I think of any one? I can't do any thing at all for you as things +are." + +"Who will help us if you do not?" said Arína, drooping her head, and +spreading her palms with an expression of melancholy discontent. + +"Here you ask for grain, and so I will give orders for some to be delivered +to you," said the prince after a short silence, during which Arína sighed, +and Davidka imitated her. "But I cannot do any thing more." + +Nekhliudof went into the entry. Mother and son with low bows followed the +prince. + + +XII. + +"O-okh! alas for my wretchedness!" exclaimed Arína, sighing deeply. + +She paused, and looked angrily at her son. Davidka immediately turned +around, and, clumsily lifting his stout leg incased in a huge dirty boot +over the threshold, took refuge in the opposite door. + +"What shall I do with him, father?" continued Arína, turning to the prince. +"You yourself see what he is. He is not a bad man;[40] doesn't get drunk, +and is peaceable; wouldn't hurt a little child. It's a sin to say hard +things of him. There's nothing bad about him, and God knows what has taken +place in him to make him so bad to himself. You see he himself does not +like it. Would you believe it, father,[41] my heart bleeds when I look at +him, and see what suffering he undergoes. You see, whatever he is, he is my +son. I pity him. Oh, how I pity him!... You see, it isn't as though he had +done any thing against me or his father or the authorities. But, no: he's a +bashful man, almost like a child. How can he bear to be a widower? Help us +out, benefactor," she said once more, evidently desirous of removing the +unfavorable impression which her bitter words might have left upon the +prince. "Father, your excellency, I"--She went on to say in a confidential +whisper, "My wit does not go far enough to explain him. It seems as though +bad men had spoiled him." + +[Footnote 40: _muzhík._] + +[Footnote 41: _bátiushka._] + +She paused for a moment. + +"If we could find the men, we might cure him." + +"What nonsense you talk, Arína! How can he be spoiled?" + +"My father, they spoil him so that they make him a no-man forever! Many bad +people in the world! Out of ill-will they take a handful of earth from out +of one's path, or something of that sort; and one is made a no-man forever +after. Isn't that a sin? I think to myself, Might I not go to the old man +Danduk, who lives at Vorobyevka? He knows all sorts of words; and he knows +herbs, and he can make charms; and he finds water with a cross. Wouldn't he +help me?" said the woman. "Maybe he will cure him." + +"What abjectness and superstition!" thought the young prince, shaking his +head gloomily, and walking back with long strides through the village. + +"What's to be done with him? To leave him in this situation is impossible, +both for myself and for the others and for him,--impossible," he said to +himself, counting off on his fingers these reasons. + +"I cannot bear to see him in this plight; but how extricate him? He renders +nugatory all my best plans for the management of the estate. If such +peasants are allowed, none of my dreams will ever be realized," he went on, +experiencing a feeling of despite and anger against the peasant in +consequence of the ruin of his plans. "To send him to Siberia, as Yakof +suggests, against his will, would that be good for him? or to make him a +soldier? That is best. At least I should be quit of him, and I could +replace him by a decent peasant." + +Such was his decision. + +He thought about this with satisfaction; but at the same time something +obscurely told him that he was thinking with only one side of his mind, and +not wholly right. + +He paused. + +"I will think about it some more," he said to himself. "To send him off as +a soldier--why? He is a good man, better than many; and I know.... Shall I +free him?" he asked himself, putting the question from a different side of +his mind. "It wouldn't be fair. Yes, it's impossible." + +But suddenly a thought occurred to him that greatly pleased him. He smiled +with the expression of a man who has decided a difficult question. + +"I will take him to the house," he said to himself. "I will look after him +myself; and by means of kindness and advice, and selecting his employment, +I will teach him to work, and reform him." + + +XIII. + +"That's the way I'll do," said Nekhliudof to himself with a pleasant +self-consciousness; and then, recollecting that he had still to go to the +rich peasant Dutlof, he directed his steps toward a lofty and ample +establishment, with two chimneys, standing in the midst of the village. + +As he passed a neighboring hut on his way thither, he stopped to speak with +a tall, disorderly-looking peasant-woman of forty summers, who came to meet +him. + +"A pleasant holiday, father,"[42] she said, with some show of assurance, +stopping at a little distance from him with a pleased smile and a low +obeisance. + +"Good-morning, my nurse. How are you? I was just going to see your +neighbor." + +"Pretty well, your excellency, my father. It's a good idea. But won't you +come in? I beg you to. My old man would be very pleased." + +"Well, I'll come; and we'll have a little talk with you, nurse. Is this +your house?" + +"It is, sir."[42] + +[Footnote 42: _bátiushka._] + +And the nurse led the way into the hut. Nekhliudof followed her into the +entry, and sat down on a tub, and began to smoke a cigarette. + +"It's hot inside. It's better to sit down here, and have our talk," he said +in reply to the woman's invitation to go into the hut. + +The nurse was a well-preserved and handsome woman. In the features of her +countenance, and especially in her big black eyes, there was a strong +resemblance to the prince himself. She folded her hands under her apron, +and looking fearlessly at him, and incessantly moving her head, began to +talk with him. + +"Why is it, father? why do you wish to visit Dutlof?" + +"Oh, I am anxious for him to take thirty desiatins[43] of land of me, and +enlarge his domain; and moreover I want him to buy some wood from me also. +You see, he has money, so why should it be idle? What do you think about +it, nurse?" + +[Footnote 43: eighty-one acres.] + +"Well, what can I say? The Dutlofs are strong people: he's the leading +peasant in the whole estate," replied the nurse, shaking her head. "Last +summer he built another building out of his own lumber. He did not call +upon the estate at all. He has horses, and yearling colts besides, at least +six troïkas, and cattle, cows, and sheep; so that it is a sight worth +seeing when they are driven along the street from pasture, and the women of +the house come out to get them into the yard. There is such a crush of +animals at the gate that they can scarcely get through, so many of them +there are. And two hundred bee-hives at the very least. He is a strong +peasant, and must have money." + +"But what do you think,--has he much money?" asked the prince. + +"Men say, out of spite of course, that the old man has no little money. But +he does not go round talking about it, and he does not tell even his sons, +but he must have. Why shouldn't he take hold of the woodland? Perhaps he +is afraid of getting the reputation for money. Five years ago he went into +a small business with Shkalik the porter. They got some meadow-land; and +this Shkalik, some way or other, cheated him, so that the old man was three +hundred rubles out of pocket. And from that time he has sworn off. How can +he help being forehanded, your excellency, father?" continued the nurse. +"He has three farms, a big family, all workers; and besides, the old +man--it is hard to say it--is a capital manager. He is lucky in every +thing; it is surprising,--in his grain and in his horses and in his cattle +and in his bees, and he's lucky in his children. Now he has got them all +married off. He has found husbands for his daughters; and he has just +married Ilyushka, and given him his freedom. He himself bought the letter +of enfranchisement. And so a fine woman has come into his house." + +"Well, do they live harmoniously?" asked the prince. + +"As long as there's the right sort of a head to the house, they get along. +Yet even the Dutlofs--but of course that's among the women. The +daughters-in-law bark at each other a little behind the oven, but the old +man generally holds them in hand; and the sons live harmoniously." + +The nurse was silent for a little. + +"Now, the old man, we hear, wants to leave his eldest son, Karp, as master +of the house. 'I am getting old,' says he. 'It's my business to attend to +the bees.' Well, Karp is a good peasant, a careful peasant; but he doesn't +manage to please the old man in the least. There's no sense in it." + +"Well, perhaps Karp wants to speculate in land and wood. What do you think +about it?", pursued the prince, wishing to learn from the woman all that +she knew about her neighbors. + +"Scarcely, sir,"[44] continued the nurse. "The old man hasn't disclosed his +money to his son. As long as he lives, of course, the money in the house +will be under the old man's control; and it will increase all the time +too." + +[Footnote 44: _bátiushka._] + +"But isn't the old man willing?" + +"He is afraid." + +"What is he afraid of?" + +"How is it possible, sir, for a seignorial peasant to make a noise about +his money? And it's a hard question to decide what to do with money anyway. +Here he went into business with the porter, and was cheated. Where was he +to get redress? And so he lost his money. But with the proprietor he would +have any loss made good immediately, of course." + +"Yes, hence," ... said Nekhliudof, reddening. "But good-by, nurse." + +"Good-by, sir, your excellency. Greatly obliged to you." + + +XIV. + +"Hadn't I better go home?" mused Nekhliudof, as he strode along toward the +Dutlof enclosure, and felt a boundless melancholy and moral weariness. + +But at this moment the new deal gates were thrown open before him with a +creaking sound; and a handsome, ruddy fellow of eighteen in wagoner's +attire appeared, leading a troïka of powerful-limbed and still sweaty +horses. He hastily brushed back his blonde hair, and bowed to the prince. + +"Well, is your father at home, Ilya?" asked Nekhliudof. + +"At the bee-house, back of the yard," replied the youth, driving the +horses, one after the other, through the half-opened gates. + +"I will not give it up. I will make the proposal. I will do the best I +can," reflected Nekhliudof; and, after waiting till the horses had passed +out, he entered Dutlof's spacious yard. + +It was plain to see that the manure had only recently been carried away. +The ground was still black and damp; and in places, particularly in the +hollows, were left red fibrous clots. + +In the yard and under the high sheds, many carts stood in orderly rows, +together with ploughs, sledges, harrows, barrels, and all sorts of farming +implements. Doves were flitting about, cooing in the shadows under the +broad solid rafters. There was an odor of manure and tar. + +In one corner Karp and Ignát were fitting a new cross-bar to a large +iron-mounted, three-horse cart. + +All three of Dutlof's sons bore a strong family resemblance. The youngest, +Ilya, who had met Nekhliudof at the gate, was beardless, of smaller +stature, ruddier complexion, and more neatly dressed, than the others. The +second, Ignát, was rather taller and darker. He had a wedge-shaped beard; +and though he wore boots, a driver's shirt, and a lamb's-skin cap, he had +not such a festive, holiday appearance as his brother had. + +The eldest, Karp, was still taller. He wore clogs, a gray kaftan, and a +shirt without gussets. He had a reddish beard, trimmed; and his expression +was serious, even to severity. + +"Do you wish my father sent for, your excellency?" he asked, coming to meet +the prince, and bowing slightly and awkwardly. + +"No, I will go to him at the hives: I wish to see what he's building there. +But I should like a talk with you," said Nekhliudof, drawing him to the +other side of the yard, so that Ignát might not overhear what he was about +to talk about with Karp. + +The self-confidence and degree of pride noticeable in the deportment of the +two peasants, and what the nurse had told the young prince, so troubled +him, that it was difficult for him to make up his mind to speak with them +about the matter proposed. + +He had a sort of guilty feeling, and it seemed to him easier to speak with +one brother out of the hearing of the other. Karp seemed surprised that the +prince took him to one side, but he followed him. + +"Well, now," began Nekhliudof awkwardly,--"I wished to inquire of you if +you had many horses." + +"We have about five troïkas, also some colts," replied Karp in a +free-and-easy manner, scratching his back. + +"Well, are your brothers going to take out relays of horses for the post?" + +"We shall send out three troïkas to carry the mail. And there's Ilyushka, +he has been off with his team; but he's just come back." + +"Well, is that profitable for you? How much do you earn that way?" + +"What do you mean by profit, your excellency? We at least get enough to +live on and bait our horses, thank God for that!" + +"Then, why don't you take hold of something else? You see, you might buy +wood, or take more land." + +"Of course, your excellency: we might rent some land if there were any +convenient." + +"I wish to make a proposition to you. Since you only make enough out of +your teaming to live on, you had better take thirty desiatins of land from +me. All that strip behind Sapof I will let you have, and you can carry on +your farming better." + +And Nekhliudof, carried away by his plan for a peasant farm, which more +than once he had proposed to himself, and deliberated about, began fluently +to explain to the peasant his proposition about it. + +Karp listened attentively to the prince's words. + +"We are very grateful for your kindness," said he, when Nekhliudof stopped, +and looked at him in expectation of his answer. "Of course here there's +nothing very bad. To occupy himself with farming is better for a peasant +than to go off as a whip. He goes among strangers; he sees all sorts of +men; he gets wild. It's the very best thing for a peasant, to occupy +himself with land." + +"You think so, do you?" + +"As long as my father is alive, how can I think, your excellency? It's as +he wills." + +"Take me to the bee-hives. I will talk with him." + +"Come with me this way," said Karp, slowly directing himself to the barn +back of the house. He opened a low gate which led to the apiary, and after +letting the prince pass through, he shut it, and returned to Ignát, and +silently took up his interrupted labors. + + +XV. + +Nekhliudof, stooping low, passed through the low gate, under the gloomy +shed, to the apiary, which was situated behind the yard. + +A small space, surrounded by straw and a wattled hedge, through the chinks +of which the light streamed, was filled with bee-hives symmetrically +arranged, and covered with shavings, while the golden bees were humming +around them. Every thing was bathed in the warm and brilliant rays of the +July sun. + +From the gate a well-trodden footway led through the middle to a wooden +side-building, with a tin-foil image on it gleaming brightly in the sun. + +A few orderly young lindens lifting, above the thatched roof of the +neighboring court-yard, their bushy tops, almost audibly rustled their +dark-green, fresh foliage, in unison with the sound of the buzzing bees. +All the shadows from the covered hedge, from the lindens, and from the +hives, fell dark and short on the delicate curling grass springing up +between the planks. + +The bent, small figure of the old man, with his gray hair and bald spot +shining in the sun, was visible near the door of a straw-thatched structure +situated among the lindens. When he heard the creaking of the gate, the old +man looked up, and wiping his heated, sweaty face with the flap of his +shirt, and smiling with pleasure, came to meet the prince. + +In the apiary it was so comfortable, so pleasant, so warm, so free! The +figure of the gray-haired old man, with thick wrinkles radiating from his +eyes, and wearing wide shoes on his bare feet, as he came waddling along, +good-naturedly and contentedly smiling, to welcome the prince to his own +private possessions, was so ingenuously soothing that Nekhliudof for a +moment forgot the trying impressions of the morning, and his cherished +dream came vividly up before him. He already saw all his peasants just as +prosperous and contented as the old man Dutlof, and all smiling soothingly +and pleasantly upon him, because to him alone they were indebted for their +prosperity and happiness. + +"Would you like a net, your excellency? The bees are angry now," said the +old man, taking down from the fence a dirty gingham bag fragrant of honey, +and handing it to the prince. "The bees know me, and don't sting," he +added, with the pleasant smile that rarely left his handsome sunburned +face. + +"I don't need it either. Well, are they swarming yet?" asked Nekhliudof, +also smiling, though without knowing why. + +"Yes, they are swarming, father, Mitri Mikolayévitch,"[45] replied the old +man, throwing an expression of peculiar endearment into this form of +addressing his bárin by his name and patronymic. "They have only just begun +to swarm; it has been a cold spring, you know." + +[Footnote 45: _bátiushka_; Mitri Mikolayévitch, rustic for Dmitri +Nikolayévitch.] + +"I have just been reading in a book," began Nekhliudof, defending himself +from a bee which had got entangled in his hair, and was buzzing under his +ear, "that if the wax stands straight on the bars, then the bees swarm +earlier. Therefore such hives as are made of boards ... with cross-b--" + +"You don't want to gesticulate; that makes it worse," said the little old +man. "Now don't you think you had better put on the net?" + +Nekhliudof felt a sharp pain, but by some sort of childish egotism he did +not wish to give in to it; and so, once more refusing the bag, continued to +talk with the old man about the construction of hives, about which he had +read in "Maison Rustique," and which, according to his idea, ought to be +made twice as large. But another bee stung him in the neck, and he lost the +thread of his discourse and stopped short in the midst of it. + +"That's well enough, father, Mitri Mikolayévitch," said the old man, +looking at the prince with paternal protection; "that's well enough in +books, as you say. Yes; maybe the advice is given with some deceit, with +some hidden meaning; but only just let him do as he advises, and we shall +be the first to have a good laugh at his expense. And this happens! How are +you going to teach the bees where to deposit their wax? They themselves put +it on the cross-bar, sometimes straight and sometimes aslant. Just look +here!" he continued, opening one of the nearest hives, and gazing at the +entrance-hole blocked by a bee buzzing and crawling on the crooked comb. +"Here's a young one. It sees; at its head sits the queen, but it lays the +wax straight and sideways, both according to the position of the block," +said the old man, evidently carried away by his interest in his occupation, +and not heeding the prince's situation. "Now, to-day, it will fly with the +pollen. To-day is warm; it's on the watch," he continued, again covering up +the hive and pinning down with a cloth the crawling bee; and then brushing +off into his rough palm a few of the insects from his wrinkled neck. + +The bees did not sting him; but as for Nekhliudof, he could scarcely +refrain from the desire to beat a retreat from the apiary. The bees had +already stung him in three places, and were buzzing angrily on all sides +around his head and neck. + +"You have many hives?" he asked as he retreated toward the gate. + +"What God has given," replied Dutlof sarcastically. "It is not necessary to +count them, father; the bees don't like it. Now, your excellency, I wanted +to ask a favor of you," he went on to say, pointing to the small posts +standing by the fence. "It was about Osip, the nurse's husband. If you +would only speak to him. In our village it's so hard to act in a neighborly +way; it's not good." + +"How so?... Ah, how they sting!" exclaimed the prince, already seizing the +latch of the gate. + +"Every year now, he lets his bees out among my young ones. We could stand +it, but strange bees get away their comb and kill them," said the old man, +not heeding the prince's grimaces. + +"Very well, by and by; right away," said Nekhliudof. And having no longer +strength of will to endure, he hastily beat a retreat through the gate, +fighting his tormentors with both hands. + +"Rub it with dirt. It's nothing," said the old man, coming to the door +after the prince. The prince took some earth, and rubbed the spot where he +had been stung, and reddened as he cast a quick glance at Karp and Ignát, +who did not deign to look at him. Then he frowned angrily. + + +XVI. + +"I wanted to ask you something about my sons, your excellency," said the +old man, either pretending not to notice, or really not noticing, the +prince's angry face. + +"What?" + +"Well, we are well provided with horses, praise the Lord! and that's our +trade, and so we don't have to work on your land." + +"What do you mean?" + +"If you would only be kind enough to let my sons have leave of absence, +then Ilyushka and Ignát would take three troïkas, and go out teaming for +all summer. Maybe they'd earn something." + +"Where would they go?" + +"Just as it happened," replied Ilyushka, who at this moment, having put the +horses under the shed, joined his father. "The Kadminski boys went with +eight horses to Romen. Not only earned their own living, they say, but +brought back a gain of more than three hundred per cent. Fodder, they say, +is cheap at _Odest_." + +"Well, that's the very thing I wanted to talk with you about," said the +prince, addressing the old man, and anxious to draw him shrewdly into a +talk about the farm. "Tell me, please, if it would be more profitable to go +to teaming than farming at home?" + +"Why not more profitable, your excellency?" said Ilyushka, again putting in +his word, and at the same time quickly shaking back his hair. "There's no +way of keeping horses at home." + +"Well, how much do you earn in the summer?" + +"Since spring, as feed was high, we went to Kief with merchandise, and to +Kursk, and back again to Moscow with grits; and in that way we earned our +living. And our horses had enough, and we brought back fifteen rubles in +money." + +"There's no harm in taking up with an honorable profession, whatever it +is," said the prince, again addressing the old man. "But it seems to me +that you might find another form of activity. And besides, this work is +such that a young man goes everywhere. He sees all sorts of people,--may +get wild," he added, quoting Karp's words. + +"What can we peasants take up with, if not teaming?" objected the old man +with his sweet smile. "If you are a good driver, you get enough to eat, and +so do your horses; but, as regards mischief, they are just the same as at +home, thank the Lord! It isn't the first time that they have been. I have +been myself, and never saw any harm in it, nothing but good." + +"How many other things you might find to do at home! with fields and +meadows"-- + +"How is it possible?" interrupted Ilyushka with animation. "We were born +for this. All the regulations are at our fingers' ends. We like the work. +It's the most enjoyable we have, your excellency. How we like to go +teaming!" + +"Your excellency, will you not do us the honor of coming into the house? +You have not yet seen our new domicile," said the old man, bowing low, and +winking to his son. + +Ilyushka hastened into the house, and Nekhliudof and the old man followed +after him. + + +XVII. + +As soon as he got into the house, the old man bowed once more; then using +his coat-tail to dust the bench in the front of the room, he smiled, and +said,-- + +"What do you want of us, your excellency?" + +The hut was bright and roomy, with a chimney; and it had a loft and berths. +The fresh aspen-wood beams, between which could be seen the moss, scarcely +faded, were as yet not turned dark. The new benches and the loft were not +polished smooth, and the floor was not worn. One young peasant woman, +rather lean, with a serious oval face, was sitting on a berth, and using +her foot to rock a hanging cradle that was suspended from the ceiling by a +long hook. This was Ilya's wife. + +In the cradle lay at full length a suckling child, scarcely breathing, and +with closed eyes. + +Another young woman, robust and rosy-cheeked, with her sleeves rolled up +above her elbows, showing strong arms and hands red even higher than her +wrists, was standing in front of the oven, and mincing onions in a wooden +dish. This was Karp's wife. + +A pock-marked woman, showing signs of pregnancy, which she tried to +conceal, was standing near the oven. The room was hot, not only from the +summer sun, but from the heat of the oven; and there was a strong smell of +baking bread. + +Two flaxen-headed little boys and a girl gazed down from the loft upon the +prince, with faces full of curiosity. They had come in, expecting something +to eat. + +Nekhliudof was delighted to see this happy household; and at the same time +he felt a sense of constraint in presence of these peasants, men and women, +all looking at him. He flushed a little as he sat down on the bench. + +"Give me a crust of hot bread: I am fond of it," said he, and the flush +deepened. + +Karp's wife cut off a huge slice of bread, and handed it on a plate to the +prince. Nekhliudof said nothing, not knowing what to say. The women also +were silent, the old man smiled benevolently. + +"Well, now why am I so awkward? as though I were to blame for something," +thought Nekhliudof. "Why shouldn't I make my proposition about the farm? +What stupidity!" Still he remained silent. + +"Well, father Mitri Mikolayévitch, what are you going to say about my boys' +proposal?" asked the old man. + +"I should advise you absolutely not to send them away, but to have them +stay at home, and work," said Nekhliudof, suddenly collecting his wits. +"You know what I have proposed to you. Go in with me, and buy some of the +crown woods and some more land"-- + +"But how are we going to get money to buy it, your excellency?" he asked, +interrupting the prince. + +"Why, it isn't very much wood, only two hundred rubles' worth," replied +Nekhliudof. + +The old man gave an indignant laugh. + +"Very good, if that's all. Why not buy it?" said he. + +"Haven't you money enough?" asked the prince reproachfully. + +"_Okh!_ Sir, your excellency!" replied the old man, with grief expressed in +his tone, looking apprehensively toward the door. "Only enough to feed my +family, not enough to buy woodland." + +"But you know you have money,--what do you do with it?" insisted +Nekhliudof. + +The old man suddenly fell into a terrible state of excitement: his eyes +flashed, his shoulders began to twitch. + +"Wicked men may say all sorts of things about me," he muttered in a +trembling voice. "But, so may God be my witness!" he said, growing more and +more animated, and turning his eyes toward the ikon, "may my eyes crack, +may I perish with all my family, if I have any thing more than the fifteen +silver rubles which Ilyushka brought home; and we have to pay the poll-tax, +you yourself know that. And we built the hut"-- + +"Well, well, all right," said the prince, rising from the bench. "Good-by, +friends."[46] + +[Footnote 46: _Proshchaïte_, _khozyáeva_.] + + +XVIII. + +"My God! my God!" was Nekhliudof's mental exclamation, as with long strides +he hastened home through the shady alleys of his weed-grown garden, and, +absent-mindedly, snapped off the leaves and branches which fell in his way. + +"Is it possible that my dreams about the ends and duties of my life are all +idle nonsense? Why is it hard for me, and mournful, as though I were +dissatisfied with myself because I imagined that having once begun this +course I should constantly experience the fulness of the morally pleasant +feeling which I had when, for the first time, these thoughts came to me?" + +And with extraordinary vividness and distinctness he saw in his imagination +that happy moment which he had experienced a year before. + +He had arisen very early, before every one else in the house, and feeling +painfully those secret, indescribable impulses of youth, he had gone +aimlessly out into the garden, and from there into the woods; and, amid the +energetic but tranquil nature pulsing with the new life of Maytime, he had +wandered long alone, without thought, and suffering from the exuberance of +some feeling, and not finding any expression for it. + +Then, with all the allurement of what is unknown, his youthful imagination +brought up before him the voluptuous form of a woman; and it seemed to him +that was the object of his indescribable longing. But another, deeper +sentiment said, _Not that_, and impelled him to search and be disturbed in +mind. + +Without thought or desire, as always happens after extra activity, he lay +on his back under a tree, and looked at the diaphanous morning-clouds +drifting over him across the deep, endless sky. + +Suddenly, without any reason, the tears sprang to his eyes, and God knows +in what way the thought came to him with perfect clearness, filling all his +soul and giving him intense delight,--the thought that love and +righteousness are the same as truth and enjoyment, and that there is only +one truth, and only one possible happiness, in the world. + +The deeper feeling this time did not say, _Not that_. He sat up, and began +to verify this thought. + +"That is it, that is it," said he to himself, in a sort of ecstasy, +measuring all his former convictions, all the phenomena of his life, by the +truth just discovered to him, and as it seemed to him absolutely new. + +"What stupidity! All that I knew, all that I believed in, all that I +loved," he had said to himself. "Love is self-denying; this is the only +true happiness independent of chance," he had said over and over again, +smiling and waving his hands. + +Applying this thought on every side to life, and finding in it confirmation +both of life and that inner voice which told him that this was _it_, he had +experienced a new feeling of pleasant agitation and enthusiasm. + +"And so I ought to do good if I would be happy," he thought; and all his +future vividly came up before him, not as an abstraction, but in images in +the form of the life of a proprietor. + +He saw before him a huge field, conterminous with his whole life, which he +was to consecrate to the good, and in which really he should find +happiness. There was no need for him to search for a sphere of activity; it +was all ready. He had one out-and-out obligation: he had his serfs.... + +And what comfortable and beneficent labor lay before him! "To work for this +simple, impressionable, incorruptible class of people; to lift them from +poverty; to give them pleasure; to give them education which, fortunately, +I will turn to use in correcting their faults, which arise from ignorance +and superstition; to develop their morals; to induce them to love the +right.... What a brilliant, happy future! And besides all this, I, who am +going to do this for my own happiness, shall take delight in their +appreciation, shall see how every day I shall go farther and farther toward +my predestined end. A wonderful future! Why could I not have seen this +before? + +"And besides," so he had thought at the same time, "who will hinder me from +being happy in love for a woman, in enjoyment of family?" + +And his youthful imagination portrayed before him a still more bewitching +future. + +"I and my wife, whom I shall love as no one ever loved a wife before in the +world, we shall always live amid this restful, poetical, rural nature, with +our children, maybe, and with my old aunt. We have our love for each other, +our love for our children; and we shall both know that our aim is the +right. We shall help each other in pressing on to this goal. I shall make +general arrangements; I shall give general aid when it is right; I shall +carry on the farm, the savings bank, the workshop. And she, with her dear +little head, and dressed in a simple white dress, which she lifts above +her dainty ankle as she steps through the mud, will go to the peasants' +school, to the hospital, to some unfortunate peasant who in truth does not +deserve help, and everywhere carry comfort and aid.... Children, old men, +women, will wait for her, and look on her as on some angel, as on +Providence. Then she will return, and hide from me the fact that she has +been to see the unfortunate peasant, and given him money; but I shall know +all, and give her a hearty hug, and rain kisses thick and fast on her +lovely eyes, her modestly-blushing cheeks, and her smiling, rosy lips." + + +XIX. + +"Where are those dreams?" the young man now asked himself as he walked home +after his round of visits. "Here more than a year has passed since I have +been seeking for happiness in this course, and what have I found? It is +true, I sometimes feel that I can be contented with myself; but this is a +dry, doubtful kind of content. Yet, no; I am simply dissatisfied! I am +dissatisfied because I find no happiness here; and I desire, I passionately +long for, happiness. I have not experienced delight, I have cut myself off +from all that gives it. Wherefore? for what end? Does that make it easier +for any one? + +"My aunt was right when she wrote that it is easier to find happiness than +to give it to others. Have my peasants become any richer? Have they learned +any thing? or have they shown any moral improvement? Not the least. They +are no better off, but it grows harder and harder every day for me. If I +saw any success in my undertakings, if I saw any signs of gratitude, ... +but, no! I see falsely directed routine, vice, untruthfulness, +helplessness. I am wasting the best years of my life." + +Thus he said to himself, and he recollected that his neighbors, as he heard +from his nurse, called him "a mere boy;" that he had no money left in the +counting-room; that his new threshing-machine, which he had invented, much +to the amusement of the peasants, only made a noise, and did not thresh +any thing when it had been set in motion for the first time in presence of +numerous spectators, who had gathered at the threshing-floor; that from day +to day he had to expect the coming of the district judge for the list of +goods and chattels, which he had neglected to make out, having been +engrossed in various new enterprises on his estate. + +And suddenly there arose before him, just as vividly as, before, that walk +through the forest and his ideal of rural life had arisen,--just as vividly +there appeared his little university room at Moscow, where he used to sit +half the night before a solitary candle, with his chum and his favorite boy +friend. + +They used to read for five hours on a stretch, and study such stupid +lessons in civil law; and when they were done with them, they would send +for supper, open a bottle of champagne, and talk about the future which +awaited them. + +How entirely different the young student had thought the future would be! +Then the future was full of enjoyment, of varied occupation, brilliant with +success, and beyond a peradventure sure to bring them both to what seemed +to them the greatest blessing in the world,--to fame. + +"He will go on, and go on rapidly, in that path," thought Nekhliudof of his +friend; "but I".... + +But by this time he was already mounting the steps to his house; and near +it were standing a score of peasants and house-servants, waiting with +various requests to the prince. And this brought him back from dreams to +the reality. + +Among the crowd was a ragged and blood-stained peasant-woman, who was +lamenting and complaining of her father-in-law, who had been beating her. +There were two brothers, who for two years past had been going on shares in +their domestic arrangements, and now looked at each other with hatred and +despair. There was also an unshaven, gray-haired domestic serf, with hands +trembling from the effects of intoxication; and this man was brought to the +prince by his son, a gardener, who complained of his disorderly conduct. +There was a peasant, who had driven his wife out of the house because she +had not worked any all the spring. There was also the wife, a sick woman, +who sobbed, but said nothing, as she sat on the grass by the steps,--only +showed her inflamed and swollen leg, carelessly wrapped up in a filthy rag. + +Nekhliudof listened to all the petitions and complaints; and after he had +given advice to one, blamed others, and replied to still others, he began +to feel a sort of whimsical sensation of weariness, shame, weakness, and +regret. And he went to his room. + + +XX. + +In the small room occupied by Nekhliudof stood an old leather sofa +decorated with copper nails, a few chairs of the same description, an +old-fashioned inlaid extension-table with scallops and brass mountings, and +strewn with papers, and an old-fashioned English grand with narrow keys, +broken and twisted. + +Between the windows hung a large mirror with an old carved frame gilded. On +the floor, near the table, lay packages of papers, books, and accounts. + +This room, on the whole, had a characterless and disorderly appearance; and +this lively disorder presented a sharp contrast with the affectedly +aristocratic arrangement of the other rooms of the great mansion. + +When Nekhliudof reached his room, he flung his hat angrily on the table, +and sat down in a chair which stood near the piano, crossed his legs, and +shook his head. + +"Will you have lunch, your excellency?" asked a tall, thin, wrinkled old +woman, who entered just at this instant, dressed in a cap, a great +kerchief, and a print dress. + +Nekhliudof looked at her for a moment or two in silence, as though +collecting his thoughts. + +"No: I don't wish any thing, nurse," said he, and again fell into thought. + +The nurse shook her head at him in some vexation, and sighed. + +"Eh! Father, Dmitri Nikolayévitch, are you melancholy? Such tribulation +comes, but it will pass away. God knows".... + +"I am not melancholy. What have you brought, Malanya Finogenovna?" replied +Nekhliudof, endeavoring to smile. + +"Ain't melancholy! can't I see?" the old woman began to say with warmth. +"The whole livelong day to be all sole alone! And you take every thing to +heart so, and look out for every thing; and besides, you scarcely eat any +thing. What's the reason of it? If you'd only go to the city, or visit your +neighbors, as others do! You are young, and the idea of bothering over +things so! Pardon me, little father, I will sit down," pursued the old +nurse, taking a seat near the door. "You see, we have got into such a habit +that we lose fear. Is that the way gentlemen do? There's no good in it. You +are only ruining yourself, and the people are spoiled. That's just like our +people: they don't understand it, that's a fact. You had better go to your +auntie. What she wrote was good sense," said the old nurse, admonishing +him. + +Nekhliudof kept growing more and more dejected. His right hand, resting on +his knee, lazily struck the piano, making a chord, a second, a third. + +Nekhliudof moved nearer, drew his other hand from his pocket, and began to +play. The chords which he made were sometimes not premeditated, were +occasionally not even according to rule, often remarkable for absurdity, +and showed that he was lacking in musical talent; but the exercise gave him +a certain indefinable melancholy enjoyment. + +At every modification in the harmony, he waited with muffled heart-beat for +what would come out of it; and when any thing came, he, in a dark sort of +way, completed with his imagination what was missing. + +It seemed to him that he heard a hundred melodies, and a chorus, and an +orchestra simultaneously joining in with his harmony. But his chief +pleasure was in the powerful activity of his imagination; confused and +broken, but bringing up with striking clearness before him the most varied, +mixed, and absurd images and pictures from the past and the future. + +Now it presents the puffy figure of Davidka Byélui, timidly blinking his +white eyelashes at the sight of his mother's black fist with its net-work +of veins; his bent back, and huge hands covered with white hairs, +exhibiting a uniform patience and submission to fate, sufficient to +overcome torture and deprivation. + +Then he saw the brisk, presuming nurse, and, somehow, seemed to picture her +going through the villages, and announcing to the peasants that they ought +to hide their money from the proprietors; and he unconsciously said to +himself, "Yes, it is necessary to hide money from the proprietors." + +Then suddenly there came up before him the fair head of his future wife, +for some reason weeping and leaning on his shoulder in deep grief. + +Then he seemed to see Churis's kindly blue eyes looking affectionately at +his pot-bellied little son. Yes, he saw in him a helper and savior, apart +from his son. "That is love," he whispered. + +Then he remembered Yukhvanka's mother, remembered the expression of +patience and conciliation which, notwithstanding her prominent teeth and +her irregular features, he recognized on her aged face. + +"It must be that I have been the first during her seventy years of life, to +recognize her good qualities," he said to himself, and whispered +"Strange;" but he continued still to drum on the piano, and to listen to +the sounds. + +Then he vividly recalled his retreat from the bees, and the expressions on +the faces of Karp and Ignát, who evidently wanted to laugh though they made +believe not look at him. He reddened, and involuntarily glanced at the old +nurse, who still remained sitting by the door, looking at him with silent +attention, occasionally shaking her gray head. + +Here, suddenly, he seemed to see a troïka of sleek horses, and Ilyushka's +handsome, robust form, with bright curls, gayly shining, narrow blue eyes, +fresh complexion, and delicate down just beginning to appear on lip and +chin. + +He remembered how Ilyushka was afraid that he would not be permitted to go +teaming, and how eagerly he argued in favor of the work that he liked so +well. And he saw the gray early morning, that began with mist, and the +smooth paved road, and the long lines of three-horse wagons, heavily laden +and protected by mats, and marked with big black letters. The stout, +contented, well-fed horses, thundering along with their bells, arching +their backs, and tugging on the traces, pulled in unison up the hill, +forcefully straining on their long-nailed shoes over the smooth road. + +As the train of wagons reached the foot of the hill, the postman had +quickly dashed by with jingling bells, which were echoed far and wide by +the great forest extending along on both sides of the road. + +"_A-a-aï!_" in a loud, boyish voice, shouts the head driver, who has a +badge on his lambskin cap, and swings his whip around his head. + +Beside the front wheel of the front team, the redheaded, cross-looking +Karp is walking heavily in huge boots. In the second team Ilyushka shows +his handsome head, as he sits on the driver's seat playing the bugle. Three +troïka-wagons loaded with boxes, with creaking wheels, with the sound of +bells and shouts, file by. Ilyushka once more hides his handsome face under +the matting, and falls off to sleep. + +Now it is a fresh, clear evening. The deal gates open for the weary horses +as they halt in front of the tavern yard; and one after the other, the high +mat-covered teams roll in across the planks that lie at the gates, and come +to rest under the wide sheds. + +Ilyushka gayly exchanges greetings with the light-complexioned, +wide-bosomed landlady, who asks, "Have you come far? and will there be many +of you to supper?" and at the same time looks with pleasure on the handsome +lad, with her bright, kindly eyes. + +And now, having unharnessed the horses, he goes into the warm house[47] +crowded with people, crosses himself, sits down at the generous wooden +bowl, and enters into lively conversation with the landlady and his +companions. + +[Footnote 47: _izbá_.] + +And then he goes to bed in the open air, under the stars which gleam down +into the shed. His bed is fragrant hay, and he is near the horses, which, +stamping and snorting, eat their fodder in the wooden cribs. He goes to the +shed, turns toward the east, and after crossing himself thirty times in +succession on his broad brawny chest, and throwing back his bright curls, +he repeats "Our Father" and "Lord have mercy" a score of times, and +wrapping himself, head and all, in his cloak, sleeps the healthy, dreamless +sleep of strong, fresh manhood. + +And here he sees in his vision the city of Kief, with its saints and +throngs of priests; Romen, with its merchants and merchandise; he sees +_Odest_, and the distant blue sea studded with white sails, and the city of +Tsar-grad,[48] with its golden palaces, and the white-breasted, dark-browed +Turkish maidens; and thither he flies, lifting himself on invisible wings. + +[Footnote 48: Constantinople.] + +He flies freely and easily, always farther and farther away, and sees below +him golden cities bathed in clear effulgence, and the blue sky with bright +stars, and a blue sea with white sails; and smoothly and pleasantly he +flies, always farther and farther away.... + +"Splendid!" whispers Nekhliudof to himself; and the thought, "Why am I not +Ilyushka?" comes to him. + + + + +LUCERNE. + +_FROM THE RECOLLECTIONS OF PRINCE NEKHLIUDOF._ + + +JULY 20,1857. + +Yesterday evening I arrived at Lucerne, and put up at the best inn there, +the Schweitzerhof. + +"Lucerne, the chief city of the canton, situated on the shore of the +Vierwaldstätter See," says Murray, "is one of the most romantic places of +Switzerland: here cross three important highways, and it is only an hour's +distance by steamboat to Mount Righi, from which is obtained one of the +most magnificent views in the world." + +Whether that be true or no, other Guides say the same thing, and +consequently at Lucerne there are throngs of travellers of all +nationalities, especially the English. + +The magnificent five-storied building of the Hotel Schweitzerhof is +situated on the quay, at the very edge of the lake, where in olden times +there used to be the crooked covered wooden bridge[49] with chapels on the +corners and pictures on the roof. Now, thanks to the tremendous inroad of +Englishmen, with their necessities, their tastes, and their money, the old +bridge has been torn down, and in its place has been erected a granite +quay, straight as a stick. On the quay are built the long, quadrangular +five-storied houses; in front of the houses two rows of lindens have been +set out and provided with supports, and between the lindens are the usual +supply of green benches. + +[Footnote 49: Hofbrücke, torn down in 1852.] + +This is the promenade; and here back and forth stroll the Englishwomen in +their Swiss straw hats, and the Englishmen in simple and comfortable +attire, and rejoice in that which they have caused to be created. Possibly +these quays and houses and lindens and Englishmen would be excellent in +their way anywhere else, but here they seem discordant amid this strangely +grandiose and at the same time indescribably harmonious and smiling nature. + +As soon as I went up to my room, and opened the window facing the lake, the +beauty of the sheet of water, of these mountains, and of this sky, at the +first moment literally dazzled and overwhelmed me. I experienced an inward +unrest, and the necessity of expressing in some manner the feelings that +suddenly filled my soul to overflowing. I felt a desire to embrace, +powerfully to embrace, some one, to tickle him, or to pinch him; in short, +to do to him and to myself something extraordinary. + +It was seven o'clock in the evening. The rain had been falling all day, but +now it had cleared off. + +The lake, blue as heated sulphur, spread out before my windows smooth and +motionless, like a concave mirror between the variegated green shores; its +surface was dotted with boats, which left behind them vanishing trails. +Farther away it was contracted between two monstrous headlands, and, +darkling, set itself against and disappeared behind a confused pile of +mountains, clouds, and glaciers. In the foreground stretched a panorama of +moist, fresh green shores, with reeds, meadows, gardens, and villas. +Farther away, the dark-green wooded heights, crowned with the ruins of +feudal castles; in the background, the rolling, pale-lilac-colored vista of +mountains, with fantastic peaks built up of crags and dead white mounds of +snow. And every thing was bathed in a fresh, transparent atmosphere of +azure blue, and kindled by the warm rays of the setting sun, bursting forth +through the riven skies. + +Not on the lake nor on the mountains nor in the skies was there a single +completed line, a single unmixed color, a single moment of repose; +everywhere motion, irregularity, fantasy, endless conglomeration and +variety of shades and lines; and above all, a calm, a softness, a unity, +and a striving for the beautiful. + +And here amid this indefinable, confused, unfettered beauty, before my very +window, stretched in stupid kaleidoscopic confusion the white line of the +quay, the lindens with their supports, and the green seats,--miserable, +tasteless creations of human ingenuity, not subordinated, like the distant +villas and ruins, to the general harmony of the beautiful scene, but on the +contrary brutally contradicting it.... Constantly, though against my will, +my eyes were attracted to that horribly straight line of the quay; and +mentally I should have liked to spurn it, to demolish it like a black spot +disfiguring the nose beneath one's eye. + +But the quay with the sauntering Englishmen remained where it was, and I +involuntarily tried to find a point of view where it would be out of my +sight. I succeeded in finding such a view; and till dinner was ready I took +delight, alone by myself, in this incomplete and therefore the more +enjoyable feeling of oppression that one experiences in the solitary +contemplation of natural beauty. + +About half-past seven I was called to dinner. Two long tables, +accommodating at least a hundred persons, were spread in the great, +magnificently decorated dining-room on the first floor.... The silent +gathering of the guests lasted three minutes,--the _frou-frou_ of women's +dresses, the soft steps, the softly-spoken words addressed to the courtly +and elegant waiters. And all the places were occupied by ladies and +gentlemen dressed elegantly, even richly, and for the most part in perfect +taste. + +As is apt to be the case in Switzerland, the majority of the guests were +English, and this gave the ruling characteristics of the common table: that +is, a strict decorum regarded as an obligation, a reserve founded not in +pride but in the absence of any necessity for social relationship, and +finally a uniform sense of satisfaction felt by each in the comfortable and +agreeable gratification of his wants. + +On all sides gleamed the whitest laces, the whitest collars, the whitest +teeth,--natural and artificial,--the whitest complexions and hands. But the +faces, many of which were very handsome, bore the expression merely of +individual prosperity, and absolute absence of interest in all that +surrounded them unless it bore directly on their own individual selves; and +the white hands glittering with rings, or protected by mitts, moved only +for the purpose of straightening collars, cutting meat, or filling +wine-glasses; no soul-felt emotion was betrayed in these actions. + +Occasionally members of some one family would exchange remarks in subdued +voices, about the excellence of such and such a dish or wine, or about the +beauty of the view from Mount Righi. + +Individual tourists, whether men or women, sat alongside of each other in +silence, and did not even seem to see each other. If it happened +occasionally, that, out of this five-score human beings, two spoke to each +other, the topic of their conversation consisted uniformly in the weather, +or the ascent of the Righi. + +Knives and forks scarcely rattled on the plates, so perfect was the +observance of propriety; and no one dared to convey pease and vegetables to +the mouth otherwise than on the fork. The waiters, involuntarily subdued by +the universal silence, asked in a whisper what wine you would be pleased to +order. + +Such dinners invariably depress me: I dislike them, and before they are +over I become blue.... It always seems to me as if I were in some way to +blame; just as when I was a boy I was set upon a chair in consequence of +some naughtiness, and bidden ironically, "Now rest a little while, my dear +young fellow." And all the time my young blood was pulsing through my +veins, and in the other room I could hear the merry shouts of my brothers. + +I used to try to rebel against this feeling of being choked down, which I +experienced at such dinners, but in vain. All these dead-and-alive faces +have an irresistible ascendency over me, and I myself become also as one +dead. I have no desires, I have no thoughts: I do not even observe. + +At first I attempted to enter into conversation with my neighbors; but I +got no response beyond the phrases which had been repeated in that place a +hundred times, a thousand times, with absolutely no variation of +countenance. + +And yet these people were by no means all stupid and feelingless; but +evidently many of them, though they seemed so dead, had got into the habit +of leading self-centred lives, which in reality were far more complicated +and interesting than my own. Why, then, should they deprive themselves of +one of the greatest enjoyments of life,--the enjoyment that comes from the +intercourse of man with man? + +How different it used to be in our _pension_ at Paris, where twenty of us, +belonging to as many different nationalities, professions, and +individualities, met together at a common table, and, under the influence +of the Gallic sociability, found the keenest zest! + +There, from the very moment that we sat down, from one end of the table to +the other, was general conversation, sandwiched with witticisms and puns, +though often in a broken speech. There every one, without being solicitous +for the proprieties, said whatever came into his head. There we had our own +philosopher, our own disputant, our own _bel esprit_, our own butt,--all +common property. + +There, immediately after dinner, we would move the table to one side, and, +without paying too much attention to rhythm, take to dancing the polka on +the dusty carpet, and often keep it up till evening. There, though we were +rather flirtatious, and not over-wise, but perfectly respectable, still we +were human beings. + +And the Spanish countess with romantic proclivities, and the Italian +_abbate_ who insisted on declaiming from the Divine Comedy after dinner, +and the American doctor who had the _entrée_ into the Tuileries, and the +young dramatic author with long hair, and the pianist who, according to her +own account, had composed the best polka in existence, and the unhappy +widow who was a beauty, and wore three rings on every finger,--all of us +enjoyed this society, which, though somewhat superficial, was human and +pleasant. And we each carried away from it hearty recollections of each +other, perhaps lighter in some cases, and more serious in others. + +But at these English _table-d'hôte_ dinners, as I look at all these laces, +ribbons, jewels, pomaded locks, and silken dresses, I often think how many +living women would be happy, and would make others happy, with these +adornments. + +Strange to think how many friends and lovers--most fortunate friends and +lovers--are sitting here side by side, without, perhaps, knowing it! And +God knows why they never come to this knowledge, and never give each other +this happiness, which they might so easily give, and which they so long +for. + +I began to feel blue, as invariably happens after such a dinner; and, +without waiting for dessert, I sallied out in the same frame of mind for a +constitutional through the city. My melancholy frame of mind was not +relieved, but rather confirmed by the narrow, muddy streets without +lanterns, the shuttered shops, the encounters with drunken workmen, and +with women hastening after water, or in bonnets, glancing around them as +they turned the corners. + +It was perfectly dark in the streets, when I returned to the hotel without +casting a glance about me, or having an idea in my head. I hoped that sleep +would put an end to my melancholy. I experienced that peculiar spiritual +chill and loneliness and heaviness, which, without any reason, beset those +who are just arrived in any new place. + +Looking steadfastly down, I walked along the quay to the Schweitzerhof, +when suddenly my ear was struck by the strains of a peculiar but thoroughly +agreeable and sweet music. + +These strains had an immediately enlivening effect upon me. It was as +though a bright, cheerful light had poured into my soul. I felt contented, +gay. My slumbering attention was awakened again to all surrounding objects; +and the beauty of the night and the lake, to which till then I had been +indifferent, suddenly came over me with quickening force like a novelty. + +I involuntarily took in at a glance the dark sky with gray clouds flecking +its deep blue, now lighted by the rising moon, the glassy dark-green lake +with its surface reflecting the lighted windows, and far away the snowy +mountains; and I heard the croaking of the frogs over on the Freshenburg +shore, and the dewy fresh call of the quail. + +Directly in front of me, in the spot whence the sounds of music had first +come, and which still especially attracted my attention, I saw, amid the +semi-darkness on the street, a throng of people standing in a semi-circle, +and in front of the crowd, at a little distance, a small man in dark +clothes. + +Behind the throng and the man, there stood out harmoniously against the +dark, ragged sky, gray and blue, the black tops of a few Lombardy poplars +in some garden, and, rising majestically on high, the two stern spires that +stand on the towers of the ancient cathedral. + +I drew nearer, and the strains became more distinct. At some distance I +could clearly distinguish the full accords of a guitar, sweetly swelling in +the evening air, and several voices, which, while taking turns with each +other, did not sing any definite theme, but gave suggestions of one in +places wherever the melody was most pronounced. + +The theme was in somewhat the nature of a mazurka, sweet and graceful. The +voices sounded now near at hand, now far distant; now a bass was heard, now +a tenor, now a falsetto such as the Tyrolese warblers are wont to sing. + +It was not a song, but the graceful masterly sketch of a song. I could not +comprehend what it was, but it was beautiful. + +Those voluptuous, soft chords of the guitar, that sweet, gentle melody, and +that solitary figure of the man in black, amid the fantastic environment of +the lake, the gleaming moon, and the twin spires of the cathedral rising in +majestic silence, and the black tops of the poplars,--all was strange and +perfectly beautiful, or at least seemed so to me. + +All the confused, arbitrary impressions of life suddenly became full of +meaning and beauty. It seemed to me as though a fresh fragrant flower had +sprung up in my soul. In place of the weariness, dulness, and indifference +toward every thing in the world, which I had been feeling the moment +before, I experienced a necessity for love, a fulness of hope, and an +unbounded enjoyment of life. + +"What dost thou desire, what dost thou long for?" an inner voice seemed to +say. "Here it is. Thou art surrounded on all sides by beauty and poetry. +Breathe it in, in full, deep draughts, as long as thou hast strength. Enjoy +it to the full extent of thy capacity. 'Tis all thine, all blessed!" + +I drew nearer. The little man was, as it seemed, a travelling Tyrolese. He +stood before the windows of the hotel, one leg a little advanced, his head +thrown back; and, as he thrummed on the guitar, he sang his graceful song +in all those different voices. + +I immediately felt an affection for this man, and a gratefulness for the +change which he had brought about in me. + +The singer, so far as I was able to judge, was dressed in an old black +coat. He had short black hair, and he wore a civilian's hat that was no +longer new. There was nothing artistic in his attire, but his clever and +youthfully gay motions and pose, together with his diminutive stature, +formed a pleasing and at the same time pathetic spectacle. + +On the steps, in the windows, and on the balconies of the brilliantly +lighted hotel, stood ladies handsomely decorated and attired, gentlemen +with polished collars, porters and lackeys in gold-embroidered liveries; in +the street, in the semi-circle of the crowd, and farther along on the +sidewalk, among the lindens, were gathered groups of well-dressed waiters, +cooks in white caps and aprons, and young girls wandering about with arms +about each other's waists. + +All, it seemed, were under the influence of the same feeling that I myself +experienced. All stood in silence around the singer, and listened +attentively. Silence reigned, except in the pauses of the song, when there +came from far away across the waters the regular click of a hammer, and +from the Freshenburg shore rang in fascinating monotone the voices of the +frogs, interrupted by the mellow, monotonous call of the quail. + +The little man in the darkness, in the midst of the street, poured out his +heart like a nightingale, in couplet after couplet, song after song. Though +I had come close to him, his singing continued to give me greater and +greater gratification. + +His voice, which was not of great power, was extremely pleasant and tender; +the taste and feeling for rhythm which he displayed in the control of it +were extraordinary, and proved that he had great natural gifts. + +After he sung each couplet, he invariably repeated the theme in variation, +and it was evident that all his graceful variations came to him at the +instant, spontaneously. + +Among the crowd, and above on the Schweitzerhof, and near by on the +boulevard, were heard frequent murmurs of approval, though generally the +most respectful silence reigned. + +The balconies and the windows kept filling more and more with handsomely +dressed men and women leaning on their elbows, and picturesquely +illuminated by the lights in the house. + +Promenaders came to a halt, and in the darkness on the quay stood men and +women in little groups. Near me, at some distance from the common crowd, +stood an aristocratic cook and lackey, smoking their cigars. The cook was +forcibly impressed by the music, and at every high falsetto note +enthusiastically nodded his head to the lackey, and nudged him with his +elbow with an expression of astonishment that seemed to say, "How he sings! +hey?" + +The lackey, whose careless smile betrayed the depth of feeling that he +experienced, replied to the cook's nudges by shrugging his shoulders, as if +to show that it was hard enough for him to be made enthusiastic, and that +he had heard much better music. + +In one of the pauses of his song, while the minstrel was clearing his +throat, I asked the lackey who he was, and if he often came there. + +"Twice this summer he has been here," replied the lackey. "He is from +Aargau; he goes round begging." + +"Well, do many like him come round here?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes," replied the lackey, not comprehending the full force of what I +asked; but, immediately after, recollecting himself, he added, "Oh, no. +This one is the only one I ever heard here. No one else." + +At this moment the little man had finished his first song, briskly twanged +his guitar, and said something in his German patois, which I could not +understand, but which brought forth a hearty round of laughter from the +surrounding throng. + +"What was that he said?" I asked. + +"He says that his throat is dried up, he would like some wine," replied the +lackey who was standing near me. + +"What? is he rather fond of the glass?" + +"Yes, all that sort of people are," replied the lackey, smiling and +pointing at the minstrel. + +The minstrel took off his cap, and swinging his guitar went toward the +hotel. Raising his head, he addressed the ladies and gentlemen standing by +the windows and on the balconies, saying in a half-Italian, half-German +accent, and with the same intonation that jugglers use in speaking to their +audiences,-- + +"_Messieurs et mesdames, si vous croyez que je gagne quelque chose, vous +vous trompez: je ne suis qu'un pauvre tiaple._" + +He stood in silence a moment, but as no one gave him any thing, he once +more took up his guitar and said,-- + +"_À présent, messieurs et mesdames, je vous chanterai l'air du Righi._" + +His hotel audience made no response, but stood in expectation of the coming +song. Below on the street a laugh went round, probably in part because he +had expressed himself so strangely, and in part because no one had given +him any thing. + +I gave him a few centimes, which he deftly changed from one hand to the +other, and bestowed them in his vest-pocket; and then, replacing his cap, +began once more to sing the graceful, sweet Tyrolese melody which he had +called _l'air du Righi_. + +This song, which formed the last on his programme, was even better than the +preceding, and from all sides in the wondering throng were heard sounds of +approbation. + +He finished. Again he swung his guitar, took off his cap, held it out in +front of him, went two or three steps nearer to the windows, and again +repeated his stock phrase,-- + +"_Messieurs et mesdames, si vous croyez que je gagne quelque chose_," which +he evidently considered to be very shrewd and witty; but in his voice and +motions I perceived a certain irresolution and childish timidity which were +especially touching in a person of such diminutive stature. + +The elegant public, still picturesquely grouped in the lighted windows and +on the balconies, were shining in their rich attire; a few conversed in +soberly discreet tones, apparently about their singer who was standing +there below them with outstretched hand; others gazed down with attentive +curiosity on the little black figure; on one balcony could be heard the +merry, ringing laughter of some young girl. + +In the surrounding crowd the talk and laughter grew constantly louder and +louder. + +The singer for the third time repeated his phrase, but in a still weaker +voice, and did not even end the sentence; and again he stretched his hand +with his cap, but instantly drew it back. Again not one of those +brilliantly dressed scores of people standing to listen to him threw him a +penny. + +The crowd laughed heartlessly. + +The little singer, so it seemed to me, shrunk more into himself, took his +guitar into his other hand, lifted his cap, and said,-- + +"_Messieurs et mesdames, je vous remercie, et je vous souhais une bonne +nuit._" Then he put on his hat. + +The crowd cackled with laughter and satisfaction. The handsome ladies and +gentlemen, calmly exchanging remarks, withdrew gradually from the +balconies. On the boulevard the promenading began once more. The street, +which had been still during the singing, assumed its wonted liveliness; a +few men, however, stood at some distance, and, without approaching the +singer, looked at him and laughed. + +I heard the little man muttering something between his teeth as he turned +away; and I saw him, apparently growing more and more diminutive, hurry +toward the city with brisk steps. The promenaders who had been looking at +him followed him at some distance, still making merry at his expense. My +mind was in a whirl; I could not comprehend what it all meant; and still +standing in the same place, I gazed abstractedly into the darkness after +the little man, who was fast disappearing, as he went with ever-increasing +swiftness with long strides into the city, followed by the merry-making +promenaders. + +I was overmastered by a feeling of pain, of bitterness, and above all, of +shame for the little man, for the crowd, for myself, as though it were I +who had asked for money and received none; as though it were I who had been +turned to ridicule. + +Without looking any longer, feeling my heart oppressed, I also hurried with +long strides toward the entrance of the Schweitzerhof. I could not explain +the feeling that overmastered me; only there was something like a stone, +from which I could not free myself, weighing down my soul and oppressing +me. + +At the ample, well-lighted entrance, I met the porter, who politely made +way for me. An English family was also at the door. A portly, handsome, and +tall gentleman, with black side-whiskers, in a black hat, and with a plaid +on one arm, while in his hand he carried a costly cane, came out slowly and +full of importance. Leaning on his arm was a lady, who wore a raw silk +dress and bonnet with bright ribbons and the most costly laces. Together +with them was a pretty, fresh-looking young lady, in a graceful Swiss hat +with a feather _à la mousquetaire_; from under it escaped long light-yellow +curls softly encircling her fair face. In front of them skipped a buxom +girl of ten, with round white knees which showed from under her thin +embroideries. "Magnificent night!" the lady was saying in a sweet, happy +voice, as I passed them. + +"Oh, yes," growled the Englishman lazily; and it was evident that he found +it so enjoyable to be alive in the world, that it was too much trouble even +to speak. + +And it seemed as though all of them alike found it so comfortable and easy, +so light and free, to be alive in the world, their faces and motions +expressed such perfect indifference to the lives of every one else, and +such absolute confidence that it was to them that the porter made way and +bowed so profoundly, and that when they returned they would find clean, +comfortable beds and rooms, and that all this was bound to be, and was +their indefeasible right, that I involuntarily contrasted them with the +wandering minstrel who weary, perhaps hungry, full of shame, was retreating +before the laughing crowd. And then suddenly I comprehended what it was +that oppressed my heart with such a load of heaviness, and I felt an +indescribable anger against these people. + +Twice I walked up and down past the Englishman, and each time, without +turning out for him, my elbow punched him, which gave me a feeling of +indescribable satisfaction; and then, darting down the steps, I hastened +through the darkness in the direction toward the city taken by the little +man. + +Overtaking the three men who had been walking together, I asked them where +the singer was; they laughed, and pointed straight ahead. There he was, +walking alone with brisk steps; no one was with him; all the time, as it +seemed to me, he was indulging in bitter monologue. + +I caught up with him, and proposed to him to go somewhere with me and drink +a bottle of wine. He kept on with his rapid walk, and scarcely deigned to +look at me; but when he perceived what I was saying, he halted. + +"Well, I would not refuse, if you would be so kind," said he; "here is a +little café, we can go in there. It's not fashionable," he added, pointing +to a drinking-saloon that was still open. + +His expression "not fashionable" involuntarily suggested the idea of not +going to an unfashionable café, but to go to the Schweitzerhof, where those +who had been listening to him were. Notwithstanding the fact that several +times he showed a sort of timid disquietude at the idea of going to the +Schweitzerhof, declaring that it was too fine for him there, still I +insisted in carrying out my purpose; and he, putting the best face on the +matter, gayly swinging his guitar, went back with me across the quay. + +A few loiterers who had happened along as I was talking with the minstrel, +and had stopped to hear what I had to say, now, after arguing among +themselves, followed us to the very entrance of the hotel, evidently +expecting from the Tyrolese some further demonstration. + +I ordered a bottle of wine of a waiter whom I met in the hall. The waiter +smiled and looked at us, and went by without answering. The head waiter, to +whom I addressed myself with the same order, listened to me solemnly, and, +measuring the minstrel's modest little figure from head to foot, sternly +ordered the waiter to take us to the room at the left. + +The room at the left was a bar-room for simple people. In the corner of +this room a hunch-backed maid was washing dishes. The whole furniture +consisted of bare wooden tables and benches. + +The waiter who came to serve us looked at us with a supercilious smile, +thrust his hands in his pockets, and exchanged some remarks with the +humpbacked dish-washer. He evidently tried to give us to understand that he +felt himself immeasurably higher than the minstrel, both in dignity and +social position, so that he considered it not only an indignity, but even +an actual joke, that he was called upon to serve us. + +"Do you wish _vin ordinaire_?" he asked with a knowing look, winking toward +my companion, and switching his napkin from one hand to the other. + +"Champagne, and your very best," said I, endeavoring to assume my +haughtiest and most imposing appearance. + +But neither my champagne, nor my endeavor to look haughty and imposing, had +the least effect on the servant: he smiled incredulously, loitered a moment +or two gazing at us, took time enough to glance at his gold watch, and with +leisurely steps, as though going out for a walk, left the room. + +Soon he returned with the wine, bringing two other waiters with him. These +two sat down near the dish-washer, and gazed at us with amused attention +and a bland smile, just as parents gaze at their children when they are +gently playing. Only the dish-washer, it seemed to me, did not look at us +scornfully but sympathetically. + +Though it was trying and awkward to lunch with the minstrel, and to play +the entertainer, under the fire of all these waiters' eyes, I tried to do +my duty with as little constraint as possible. In the lighted room I could +see him better. He was a small but symmetrically built and muscular man, +though almost a dwarf in stature; he had bristly black hair, teary big +black eyes, bushy eyebrows, and a thoroughly pleasant, attractively shaped +mouth. He had little side-whiskers, his hair was short, his attire was very +simple and mean. He was not over-clean, was ragged and sunburnt, and in +general had the look of a laboring-man. He was far more like a poor +tradesman than an artist. + +Only in his ever humid and brilliant eyes, and in his firm mouth, was there +any sign of originality or genius. By his face it might be conjectured that +his age was between twenty-five and forty; in reality, he was +thirty-seven. + +Here is what he related to me, with good-natured readiness and evident +sincerity, of his life. He was a native of Aargau. In early childhood he +had lost father and mother; other relatives he had none. He had never owned +any property. He had been apprenticed to a carpenter; but twenty-two years +previously one of his hands had been attacked by caries, which had +prevented him from ever working again. + +From childhood he had been fond of singing, and he began to be a singer. +Occasionally strangers had given him money. With this he had learned his +profession, bought his guitar, and now for eighteen years he had been +wandering about through Switzerland and Italy, singing before hotels. His +whole luggage consisted of his guitar, and a little purse in which, at the +present time, there was only half a franc. That would have to suffice for +supper and lodgings this night. + +Every year now for eighteen years he had made the round of the best and +most popular resorts of Switzerland,--Zurich, Lucerne, Interlaken, +Chamounix, etc.; by the way of the St. Bernard he would go down into Italy, +and return over the St. Gothard, or through Savoy. Just at present it was +rather hard for him to walk, as he had caught a cold, causing him to suffer +from some trouble in his legs,--he called it rheumatism,--which grew more +severe from year to year; and, moreover, his voice and eyes had grown +weaker. Nevertheless, he was on his way to Interlaken, Aix-les-Bains, and +thence over the Little St. Bernard to Italy, which he was very fond of. It +was evident that on the whole he was well content with his life. + +When I asked him why he returned home, if he had any relatives there, or a +house and land, his mouth parted in a gay smile, and he replied, "_Oui, le +sucre est bon, il est doux pour les enfants!_" and he winked at the +servants. + +I did not catch his meaning, but the group of servants burst out laughing. + +"No, I have nothing of the sort, but still I should always want to go +back," he explained to me. "I go home because there is always a something +that draws one to one's native place." And once more he repeated with a +shrewd, self-satisfied smile, his phrase, "_Oui, le sucre est bon_," and +then laughed good-naturedly. + +The servants were very much amused, and laughed heartily; only the +hunch-backed dish-washer looked earnestly from her big kindly eyes at the +little man, and picked up his cap for him, when, as we talked, he once +knocked it off the bench. I have noticed that wandering minstrels, +acrobats, even jugglers, delight in calling themselves artists, and several +times I hinted to my comrade that he was an artist; but he did not at all +accept this designation, but with perfect simplicity looked upon his work +as a means of existence. + +When I asked him if he had not himself written the songs which he sang, he +showed great surprise at such a strange question, and replied that the +words of whatever he sang were all of old Tyrolese origin. + +"But how about that song of the Righi? I think that cannot be very +ancient," I suggested. + +"Oh, that was composed about fifteen years ago. There was a German in +Basel; he was a clever man; it was he who composed it. A splendid song. You +see he composed it especially for travellers." And he began to repeat the +words of the Righi song, which he liked so well, translating them into +French as he went along. + + "_If you wish to go to Righi, + You will not need shoes to Wegis, + (For you go that far by steamboat), + But from Wegis take a stout staff, + Also take upon your arm a maiden; + Drink a glass of wine on starting, + Only do not drink too freely, + For if you desire to drink here, + You must earn the right to, first._" + +"Oh! a splendid song!" he exclaimed, as he finished. + +The servants, evidently, also found the song much to their mind, because +they came up closer to us. + +"Yes, but who was it composed the music?" I asked. + +"Oh, no one at all; you know you must have something new when you are going +to sing for strangers." + +When the ice was brought, and I had given my comrade a glass of champagne, +he seemed somewhat ill at ease, and, glancing at the servants, he turned +and twisted on the bench. + +We touched our glasses to the health of all artists; he drank half a glass, +then he seemed to be collecting his ideas, and knit his brows in deep +thought. + +"It is long since I have tasted such wine, _je ne vous dis que ça_. In +Italy the _vino d'Asti_ is excellent, but this is still better. Ah! Italy; +it is splendid to be there!" he added. + +"Yes, there they know how to appreciate music and artists," said I, trying +to bring him round to the evening's mischance before the Schweitzerhof. + +"No," he replied. "There, as far as music is concerned, I cannot give +anybody satisfaction. The Italians are themselves musicians,--none like +them in the world; but I know only Tyrolese songs. They are something of a +novelty to them, though." + +"Well, you find rather more generous gentlemen there, don't you?" I went on +to say, anxious to make him share in my resentment against the guests of +the Schweitzerhof. "There it would not be possible to find a big hotel +frequented by rich people, where, out of a hundred listening to an artist's +singing, not one would give him any thing." + +My question utterly failed of the effect that I expected. It did not enter +his head to be indignant with them: on the contrary, he saw in my remark an +implied slur upon his talent which had failed of its reward, and he +hastened to set himself right before me. "It is not every time that you get +any thing," he remarked; "sometimes one isn't in good voice, or you are +tired; now to-day I have been walking ten hours, and singing almost all the +time. That is hard. And these important aristocrats do not always care to +listen to Tyrolese songs." + +"But still, how can they help giving?" I insisted. + +He did not comprehend my remark. + +"That's nothing," he said; "but here the principal thing is, _on est tres +serré pour la police_, that's what's the trouble. Here, according to these +republican laws, you are not allowed to sing; but in Italy you can go +wherever you please, no one says a word. Here, if they want to let you, +they let you; but if they don't want to, then they can throw you into +jail." + +"What? That's incredible!" + +"Yes, it is true. If you have been warned once, and are found singing +again, they may put you in jail. I was kept there three months once," he +said, smiling as though that were one of his pleasantest recollections. + +"Oh! that is terrible!" I exclaimed. "What was the reason?" + +"That was in consequence of one of the new republican laws," he went on to +explain, growing animated. "They cannot comprehend here that a poor fellow +must earn his living somehow. If I were not a cripple, I would work. But +what harm do I do to any one in the world by my singing? What does it mean? +The rich can live as they wish, _un pauvre tiaple_ like myself can't live +at all. What kind of laws are these republican ones? If that is the way +they run, then we don't want a republic: isn't that so, my dear sir? We +don't want a republic, but we want--we simply want--we want"--he hesitated +a little,--"we want natural laws." + +I filled up his glass. "You are not drinking," I said. + +He took the glass in his hand, and bowed to me. + +"I know what you wish," he said, blinking his eyes at me, and threatening +me with his finger. "You wish to make me drunk, so as to see what you can +get out of me; but no, you sha'n't have that gratification." + +"Why should I make you drunk?" I inquired. "All I wished was to give you a +pleasure." + +He seemed really sorry that he had offended me by interpreting my +insistence so harshly. He grew confused, stood up, and touched my elbow. + +"No, no," said he, looking at me with a beseeching expression in his moist +eyes. "I was only joking." + +And immediately after he made use of some horribly uncultivated slang +expression, intended to signify that I was, nevertheless, a fine young man. +"_Je ne vous dis que ça_," he said in conclusion. In this fashion the +minstrel and I continued to drink and converse; and the waiters continued +unceremoniously to stare at us, and, as it seemed, to make ridicule of us. + +In spite of the interest which our conversation aroused in me, I could not +avoid taking notice of their behavior; and I confess I began to grow more +and more angry. + +One of the waiters arose, came up to the little man, and, regarding the top +of his head, began to smile. I was already full of wrath against the +inmates of the hotel, and had not yet had a chance to pour it out on any +one; and now I confess I was in the highest degree irritated by this +audience of waiters. + +The porter, not removing his hat, came into the room, and sat down near me, +leaning his elbows on the table. This last circumstance, which was so +insulting to my dignity or my vainglory, completely enraged me, and gave an +outlet for all the wrath which all the evening long had been boiling within +me. I asked myself why he had so humbly bowed when he had met me before, +and now, because I was sitting with the travelling minstrel, he came and +took his place near me so rudely? I was entirely overmastered by that +boiling, angry indignation which I enjoy in myself, which I sometimes +endeavor to stimulate when it comes over me, because it has an exhilarating +effect upon me, and gives me, if only for a short time, a certain +extraordinary flexibility, energy, and strength in all my physical and +moral faculties. + +I leaped to my feet. + +"Whom are you laughing at?" I screamed at the waiter; and I felt my face +turn pale, and my lips involuntarily set together. + +"I am not laughing," replied the waiter, moving away from me. + +"Yes, you are: you are laughing at this gentleman. And what right have you +to come, and to take a seat here, when there are guests? Don't you dare to +sit down!" + +The porter, muttering something, got up, and turned to the door. + +"What right have you to make sport of this gentleman, and to sit down by +him, when he is a guest, and you are a waiter? Why didn't you laugh at me +this evening at dinner, and come and sit down beside me? Because he is +meanly dressed, and sings in the streets? Is that the reason? and because I +have better clothes? He is poor, but he is a thousand times better than you +are; that I am sure of, because he has never insulted any one, but you have +insulted him." + +"I didn't mean any thing," replied my enemy the waiter. "Perhaps I +disturbed him by sitting down." + +The waiter did not understand me, and my German was wasted on him. The rude +porter was about to take the waiter's part; but I fell upon him so +impetuously that the porter pretended not to understand me, and waved his +hand. + +The hunch-backed dish-washer, either because she perceived my wrathful +state, and feared a scandal, or possibly because she shared my views, took +my part, and, trying to force her way between me and the porter, told him +to hold his tongue, saying that I was right, but at the same time urging me +to calm myself. + +"_Der Herr hat Recht; Sie haben Recht_," she said over and over again. The +minstrel's face presented a most pitiable, terrified expression; and +evidently he did not understand why I was angry, and what I wanted: and he +urged me to let him go away as soon as possible. + +But the eloquence of wrath burned within me more and more. I understood it +all,--the throng that had made merry at his expense, and his auditors who +had not given him any thing; and not for all the world would I have held my +peace. + +I believe, that, if the waiters and the porter had not been so submissive, +I should have taken delight in having a brush with them, or striking the +defenceless English lady on the head with a stick. If at that moment I had +been at Sevastópol, I should have taken delight in devoting myself to +slaughtering and killing in the English trench. + +"And why did you take this gentleman and me into this room, and not into +the other? What?" I thundered at the porter, seizing him by the arm so that +he could not escape from me. "What right had you to judge by his appearance +that this gentleman must be served in this room, and not in that? Have not +all guests who pay, equal rights in hotels? Not only in a republic, but in +all the world! Your scurvy republic!... Equality, indeed! You would not +dare to take an Englishman into this room, not even those Englishmen who +have heard this gentleman free of cost; that is, who have stolen from him, +each one of them, the few centimes which ought to have been given to him. +How did you dare to take us to this room?" + +"That room is closed," said the porter. + +"No," I cried, "that isn't true; it isn't closed." + +"Then you know best." + +"I know,--I know that you are lying." + +The porter turned his back on me. + +"Eh! What is to be said?" he muttered. + +"What is to be said?" I cried. "You conduct us instanter into that room!" + +In spite of the dish-washer's warning, and the entreaties of the minstrel, +who would have preferred to go home, I insisted on seeing the head waiter, +and went with my guest into the big dining-room. The head waiter, hearing +my angry voice, and seeing my menacing face, avoided a quarrel, and, with +contemptuous servility, said that I might go wherever I pleased. I could +not prove to the porter that he had lied, because he had hastened out of +sight before I went into the hall. + +The dining-room was, in fact, open and lighted; and at one of the tables +sat an Englishman and a lady, eating their supper. Although we were shown +to a special table, I took the dirty minstrel to the very one where the +Englishman was, and bade the waiter bring to us there the unfinished +bottle. + +The two guests at first looked with surprised, then with angry, eyes at the +little man, who, more dead than alive, was sitting near me. They talked +together in a low tone; then the lady pushed back her plate, her silk dress +rustled, and both of them left the room. Through the glass doors I saw the +Englishman saying something in an angry voice to the waiter, and pointing +with his hand in our direction. The waiter put his head through the door, +and looked at us. I waited with pleasurable anticipation for some one to +come and order us out, for then I could have found a full outlet for all my +indignation. But fortunately, though at the time I felt injured, we were +left in peace. The minstrel, who before had fought shy of the wine, now +eagerly drank all that was left in the bottle, so that he might make his +escape as quickly as possible. + +He, however, expressed his gratitude with deep feeling, as it seemed to me, +for his entertainment. His teary eyes grew still more humid and brilliant, +and he made use of a most strange and complicated phrase of gratitude. But +still very pleasant to me was the sentence in which he said that if +everybody treated artists as I had been doing, it would be very good, and +ended by wishing me all manner of happiness. We went out into the hall +together. There stood the servants, and my enemy the porter apparently +airing his grievances against me before them. All of them, I thought, +looked at me as though I were a man who had lost his wits. I treated the +little man exactly like an equal, before all that audience of servants; and +then, with all the respect that I was able to express in my behavior, I +took off my hat, and pressed his hand with its dry and hardened fingers. + +The servants made believe not pay the slightest attention to me. One of +them only indulged in a sarcastic laugh. + +As soon as the minstrel had bowed himself out, and disappeared in the +darkness, I went up-stairs to my room, intending to sleep off all these +impressions and the foolish childish anger which had come upon me so +unexpectedly. But finding that I was too much excited to sleep, I once more +went down into the street with the intention of walking until I should have +recovered my equanimity, and, I must confess, with the secret hope that I +might accidentally come across the porter or the waiter or the Englishman, +and show them all their rudeness, and, most of all, their unfairness. But +beyond the porter, who when he saw me turned his back, I met no one; and I +began to promenade in absolute solitude along the quay. + +"This is an example of the strange fate of poetry," said I to myself, +having grown a little calmer. "All love it, all are in search of it; it is +the only thing in life that men love and seek, and yet no one recognizes +its power, no one prizes this best treasure of the world, and those who +give it to men are not rewarded. Ask any one you please, ask all these +guests of the Schweitzerhof, what is the most precious treasure in the +world, and all, or ninety-nine out of a hundred, putting on a sardonic +expression, will say that the best thing in the world is money. + +"'Maybe, though, this does not please you, or coincide with your elevated +ideas,' it will be urged, 'but what is to be done if human life is so +constituted that money alone is capable of giving a man happiness? I cannot +force my mind not to see the world as it is,' it will be added, 'that is, +to see the truth.' + +"Pitiable is your intellect, pitiable the happiness which you desire! And +you yourselves, unhappy creatures, not knowing what you desire, ... why +have you all left your fatherland, your relatives, your money-making trades +and occupations, and come to this little Swiss city of Lucerne? Why did you +all this evening gather on the balconies, and in respectful silence listen +to the little beggar's song? And if he had been willing to sing longer, you +would have been silent and listened longer. What! could money, even +millions of it, have driven you all from your country, and brought you all +together in this little nook of Lucerne? Could money have gathered you all +on the balconies to stand for half an hour silent and motionless? No! One +thing compels you to do it, and will forever have a stronger influence than +all the other impulses of life: the longing for poetry which you know, +which you do not realize, but feel, always will feel so long as you have +any human sensibilities. The word 'poetry' is a mockery to you; you make +use of it as a sort of ridiculous reproach; you regard the love for poetry +as something meet for children and silly girls, and you make sport of them +for it. For yourselves you must have something more definite. + +"But children look upon life in a healthy way: they recognize and love what +man ought to love, and what gives happiness. But life has so deceived and +perverted you, that you ridicule the only thing that you really love, and +you seek for what you hate and for what gives you unhappiness. + +"You are so perverted that you did not perceive what obligations you were +under to the poor Tyrolese who rendered you a pure delight; but at the same +time you feel yourselves needlessly obliged to bow before some lord, which +gives you neither pleasure nor profit, but rather causes you to sacrifice +your comfort and convenience. What absurdity! what incomprehensible lack of +reason! + +"But it was not this that made the most powerful impression upon me this +evening. This blindness to all that gives happiness, this unconsciousness +of poetic enjoyment, I can almost comprehend, or at least I have become +wonted to it, since I have almost everywhere met with it in the course of +my life; the harsh, unconscious churlishness of the crowd was no novelty to +me: whatever those who argue in favor of popular sentiment may say, the +throng is a conglomeration of very possibly good people, but of people who +touch each other only on their coarse animal sides, and express only the +weakness and harshness of human nature. But how was it that you, children +of a humane people, you Christians, you simple people, repaid with coldness +and ridicule the poor beggar who gave you a pure enjoyment? But no, in +your country there are asylums for beggars. There are no beggars, there can +be none; and there can be no feelings of sympathy, since that would be a +confession that beggary existed. + +"But he labored, he gave you enjoyment, he besought you to give him +something of your superfluity in payment for his labor of which you took +advantage. But you looked upon him with a cool smile as upon one of the +curiosities in your lofty brilliant palaces; and though there were a +hundred of you, favored with happiness and wealth, not one man or one woman +among you gave him a _sou_. Abashed he went away from you, and the +thoughtless throng, laughing, followed and ridiculed not you, but him, +because you were cold, harsh, and dishonorable; because you robbed him in +receiving the entertainment which he gave you: for this they jeered _him_. + +"'_On the 19th of July, 1857, before the Schweitzerhof Hotel, in which were +lodging very opulent people, a wandering beggar minstrel sang for half an +hour his songs, and played his guitar. About a hundred people listened to +him. The minstrel thrice asked you all to give him something. No one person +gave him a thing, and many made sport of him._' + +"This is not an invention, but an actual fact, as those who desire can find +out for themselves by consulting the papers for the list of those who were +at the Schweitzerhof on the 19th of July. + +"This is an event which the historians of our time ought to describe in +letters of inextinguishable flame. This event is more significant and more +serious, and fraught with far deeper meaning, than the facts that are +printed in newspapers and histories. That the English have killed several +thousand Chinese because the Chinese would not sell them any thing for +money while their land is overflowing with ringing coins; that the French +have killed several thousand Kabyles because the wheat grows well in +Africa, and because constant war is essential for the drill of an army; +that the Turkish ambassador in Naples must not be a Jew; and that the +Emperor Napoleon walks about in Plombières, and gives his people the +express assurance that he rules only in direct accordance with the will of +the people,--all these are words which darken or reveal something long +known. But the episode that took place in Lucerne on the 19th of July seems +to me something entirely novel and strange, and it is connected not with +the everlastingly ugly side of human nature, but with a well-known epoch in +the development of society. This fact is not for the history of human +activities, but for the history of progress and civilization. + +"Why is it that this inhuman fact, impossible in any country,--Germany, +France, or Italy,--is quite possible here where civilization, freedom, and +equality are carried to the highest degree of development, where there are +gathered together the most civilized travellers from the most civilized +nations? Why is it that these cultivated human beings, generally capable of +every honorable human action, had no hearty, human feeling for one good +deed? Why is it that these people who in their palaces, their meetings, and +their societies, labor warmly for the condition of the celibate Chinese in +India, about the spread of Christianity and culture in Africa, about the +formation of societies for attaining all perfection,--why is it that they +should not find in their souls the simple, primitive feeling of human +sympathy? Has such a feeling entirely disappeared, and has its place been +taken by vainglory, ambition, and cupidity, governing these men in their +palaces, meetings, and societies? Has the spreading of that reasonable, +egotistical association of people, which we call civilization, destroyed +and rendered nugatory the desire for instinctive and loving association? +And is this that boasted equality for which so much innocent blood has been +shed, and so many crimes have been perpetrated? Is it possible that +nations, like children, can be made happy by the mere sound of the word +'equality'? + +"Equality before the law? Does the whole life of a people revolve within +the sphere of law? Only the thousandth part of it is subject to the law: +the rest lies outside of it, in the sphere of the customs and intuitions of +society. + +"But in society the lackey is better dressed than the minstrel, and insults +him with impunity. I am better dressed than the lackey, and insult him with +impunity. The porter considers me higher, but the minstrel lower, than +himself; when I made the minstrel my companion, he felt that he was on an +equality with us both, and behaved rudely. I was impudent to the porter, +and the porter acknowledged that he was inferior to me. The waiter was +impudent to the minstrel, and the minstrel accepted the fact that he was +inferior to the waiter. + +"And is that government free, even though men seriously call it free, where +a single citizen can be thrown into prison because, without harming any +one, without interfering with any one, he does the only thing that he can +to prevent himself from dying of starvation? + +"A wretched, pitiable creature is man with his craving for positive +solutions, thrown into this everlastingly tossing, limitless ocean of +_good_ and _evil_, of combinations and contradictions. For centuries men +have been struggling and laboring to put the _good_ on one side, the _evil_ +on the other. Centuries will pass, and no matter how much the unprejudiced +mind may strive to decide where the balance lies between the _good_ and the +_evil_, the scales will refuse to tip the beam, and there will always be +equal quantities of the _good_ and the _evil_ on each scale. + +"If only man would learn to form judgments, and not to indulge in rash and +arbitrary thoughts, and not to make reply to questions that are propounded +merely to remain forever unanswered! If only he would learn that every +thought is both a lie and a truth!--a lie from the one-sidedness and +inability of man to recognize all truth; and true because it expresses one +side of mortal endeavor. There are divisions in this everlastingly +tumultuous, endless, endlessly confused chaos of the _good_ and the _evil_. +They have drawn imaginary lines over this ocean, and they contend that the +ocean is really thus divided. + +"But are there not millions of other possible subdivisions from absolutely +different standpoints, in other planes? Certainly these novel subdivisions +will be made in centuries to come, just as millions of different ones have +been made in centuries past. + +"Civilization is _good_, barbarism is _evil_; freedom, _good_; slavery, +_evil_. Now, this imaginary knowledge annihilates the instinctive, +beatific, primitive craving for the _good_ that is in human nature. And who +will explain to me what is freedom, what is despotism, what is +civilization, what is barbarism? + +"Where are the boundaries that separate them? And whose soul possesses so +absolute a standard of good and evil as to measure these fleeting, +complicated facts? Whose wit is so great as to comprehend and weigh all the +facts in the irretrievable past? And who can find any circumstance in which +there is no union of _good_ and _evil_? And because I know that I see more +of one than of the other, is it not because my standpoint is wrong? And who +has the ability to separate himself so absolutely from life, even for a +moment, as to look upon it from above? + +"One, only one infallible Guide we have,--the universal Spirit which +penetrates all collectively and as units, which has endowed each of us with +the craving for the right; the Spirit which impels the tree to grow toward +the sun, which stimulates the flower in autumn-tide to scatter its seed, +and which obliges each one of us unconsciously to draw closer together. And +this one unerring, inspiring voice rings out louder than the noisy, hasty +development of culture. + +"Who is the greater man, and who the greater barbarian,--that lord, who, +seeing the minstrel's well-worn clothes, angrily left the table, who gave +him not the millionth part of his possessions in payment of his labor, and +now lazily sitting in his brilliant, comfortable room, calmly opines about +the events that are happening in China, and justifies the massacres that +have been done there; or the little minstrel, who, risking imprisonment, +with a franc in his pocket, and doing no harm to any one, has been going +about for a score of years, up hill and down dale, rejoicing men's hearts +with his songs, though they have jeered at him, and almost cast him out of +the pale of humanity; and who, in weariness and cold and shame, has gone +off to sleep, no one knows where, on his filthy straw?" + +At this moment, from the city, through the dead silence of the night, far, +far away, I caught the sound of the little man's guitar and his voice. + +"No," something involuntarily said to me, "you have no right to commiserate +the little man, or to blame the lord for his well-being. Who can weigh the +inner happiness which is found in the soul of each of these men? There he +stands somewhere in the muddy road, and gazes at the brilliant moonlit sky, +and gayly sings amid the smiling, fragrant night; in his soul there is no +reproach, no anger, no regret. And who knows what is transpiring now in the +hearts of all these men within those opulent, brilliant rooms? Who knows if +they all have as much unencumbered, sweet delight in life, and as much +satisfaction with the world, as dwells in the soul of that little man? + +"Endless are the mercy and wisdom of Him who has permitted and formed all +these contradictions. Only to thee, miserable little worm of the dust, +audaciously, lawlessly attempting to fathom His laws, His designs,--only to +thee do they seem like contradictions. + +"Full of love He looks down from His bright, immeasurable height, and +rejoices in the endless harmony in which you all move in endless +contradictions. In thy pride thou hast thought thyself able to separate +thyself from the laws of the universe. No, thou also, with thy petty, +ridiculous anger against the waiters,--thou also hast disturbed the +harmonious craving for the eternal and the infinite.".... + + + + +RECOLLECTIONS OF A SCORER. + +_A STORY._ + + +Well, it happened about three o'clock. The gentlemen were playing. There +was the big stranger, as our men called him. The prince was there,--the two +are always together. The whiskered bárin was there; also the little hussar, +Oliver, who was an actor, and there was the _pan_.[50] It was a pretty good +crowd. + +[Footnote 50: Polish name for lord or gentleman.] + +The big stranger and the prince were playing together. Now, here I was +walking up and down around the billiard-table with my stick, keeping +tally,--ten and forty-seven, twelve and forty-seven. + +Everybody knows it's our business to score. You don't get a chance to get a +bite of any thing, and you don't get to bed till two o'clock o' nights, but +you're always being screamed at to bring the balls. + +I was keeping tally; and I look, and see a new bárin comes in at the door. +He gazed and gazed, and then sat down on the sofa. Very well! + +"Now, who can that be?" thinks I to myself. "He must be somebody." + +His dress was neat,--neat as a pin,--checkered tricot pants, stylish little +short coat, plush vest, and gold chain and all sorts of trinkets dangling +from it. + +He was dressed neat; but there was something about the man neater still; +slim, tall, his hair brushed forward in style, and his face fair and +ruddy,--well, in a word, a fine young fellow. + +You must know our business brings us into contact with all sorts of people. +And there's many that ain't of much consequence, and there's a good deal of +poor trash. So, though you're only a scorer, you get used to telling folks; +that is, in a certain way you learn a thing or two. + +I looked at the bárin. I see him sit down, modest and quiet, not knowing +anybody; and the clothes on him are so bran-new, that thinks I, "Either +he's a foreigner,--an Englishman maybe,--or some count just come. And +though he's so young, he has an air of some distinction." Oliver sat down +next him, so he moved along a little. + +They began a game. The big man lost. He shouts to me. Says he, "You're +always cheating. You don't count straight. Why don't you pay attention?" + +He scolded away, then threw down his cue, and went out. Now, just look +here! Evenings, he and the prince plays for fifty silver rubles a game; and +here he only lost a bottle of Makon wine, and got mad. That's the kind of a +character he is. + +Another time he and the prince plays till two o'clock. They don't bank down +any cash; and so I know neither of them's got any cash, but they are simply +playing a bluff game. + +"I'll go you twenty-five rubles," says he. + +"All right." + +Just yawning, and not even stopping to place the ball,--you see, he was not +made of stone,--now just notice what he said. "We are playing for money," +says he, "and not for chips." + +But this man puzzled me worse than all the rest. Well, then, when the big +man left, the prince says to the new bárin, "Wouldn't you like," says he, +"to play a game with me?" + +"With pleasure," says he. + +He sat there, and looked rather foolish, indeed he did. He may have been +courageous in reality; but, at all events, he got up, went over to the +billiard-table, and did not seem flustered as yet. He was not exactly +flustered, but you couldn't help seeing that he was not quite at his ease. + +Either his clothes were a little too new, or he was embarrassed because +everybody was looking at him; at any rate, he seemed to have no energy. He +sort of sidled up to the table, caught his pocket on the edge, began to +chalk his cue, dropped his chalk. + +Whenever he hit the ball, he always glanced around, and reddened. Not so +the prince. He was used to it; he chalked and chalked his hand, tucked up +his sleeve; he goes and sits down when he pockets the ball, even though he +is such a little man. + +They played two or three games; then I notice the prince puts up the cue, +and says, "Would you mind telling me your name?" + +"Nekhliudof," says he. + +Says the prince, "Was your father commander in the corps of cadets?" + +"Yes," says the other. + +Then they began to talk in French, and I could not understand them. I +suppose they were talking about family affairs. + +"_Au revoir_," says the prince. "I am very glad to have made your +acquaintance." He washed his hands, and went to get a lunch; but the other +stood by the billiard-table with his cue, and was knocking the balls about. + +It's our business, you know, when a new man comes along, to be rather +sharp: it's the best way. I took the balls, and go to put them up. He +reddened, and says, "Can't I play any longer?" + +"Certainly you can," says I. "That's what billiards is for." But I don't +pay any attention to him. I straighten the cues. + +"Will you play with me?" + +"Certainly, sir," says I. + +I place the balls. + +"Shall we play for odds?" + +"What do you mean,--'play for odds'?" + +"Well," says I, "you give me a half-ruble, and I crawl under the table." + +Of course, as he had never seen that sort of thing, it seemed strange to +him: he laughs. + +"Go ahead," says he. + +"Very well," says I, "only you must give me odds." + +"What!" says he, "are you a worse player than I am?" + +"Most likely," says I. "We have few players who can be compared with you." + +We began to play. He certainly had the idea that he was a crack shot. It +was a caution to see him shoot; but the Pole sat there, and kept shouting +out every time,-- + +"Ah, what a chance! ah, what a shot!" + +But what a man he was! His ideas were good enough, but he didn't know how +to carry them out. Well, as usual I lost the first game, crawled under the +table, and grunted. + +Thereupon Oliver and the Pole jumped down from their seats, and applauded, +thumping with their cues. + +"Splendid! Do it again," they cried, "once more." + +Well enough to cry "once more," especially for the Pole. That fellow would +have been glad enough to crawl under the billiard-table, or even under the +Blue bridge, for a half-ruble! Yet he was the first to cry, "Splendid! but +you haven't wiped off all the dust yet." + +I, Petrushka the marker, was pretty well known to everybody. + +Only, of course, I did not care to show my hand yet. I lost my second game. + +"It does not become me at all to play with you, sir," says I. + +He laughs. Then, as I was playing the third game, he stood forty-nine and I +nothing. I laid the cue on the billiard-table, and said, "Bárin, shall we +play off?" + +"What do you mean by playing off?" says he. "How would you have it?" + +"You make it three rubles or nothing," says I. + +"Why," says he, "have I been playing with you for money?" The fool! + +He turned rather red. + +Very good. He lost the game. He took out his pocket-book,--quite a new one, +evidently just from the English shop,--opened it: I see he wanted to make a +little splurge. It is stuffed full of bills,--nothing but hundred-ruble +notes. + +"No," says he, "there's no small stuff here." + +He took three rubles from his purse. "There," says he, "there's your two +rubles; the other pays for the games, and you keep the rest for vodka." + +"Thank you, sir, most kindly." I see that he is a splendid fellow. For such +a one I would crawl under any thing. For one thing, it's a pity that he +won't play for money. For then, thinks I, I should know how to work him for +twenty rubles, and maybe I could stretch it out to forty. + +As soon as the Pole saw the young man's money, he says, "Wouldn't you like +to try a little game with me? You play so admirably." Such sharpers prowl +around. + +"No," says the young man, "excuse me: I have not the time." And he went +out. + +I don't know who that man was, that Pole. Some one called him _Pan_ or the +Pole, and so it stuck to him. Every day he used to sit in the +billiard-room, and always look on. He was no longer allowed to take a hand +in any game whatever; but he always sat by himself, and got out his pipe, +and smoked. But then he could play well. + +Very good. Nekhliudof came a second time, a third time; he began to come +frequently. He would come morning and evening. He learned to play French +carom and pyramid pool,--every thing in fact. He became less bashful, got +acquainted with everybody, and played tolerably well. Of course, being a +young man of a good family, with money, everybody liked him. The only +exception was the "big guest:" he quarrelled with him. + +And the whole thing grew out of a trifle. + +They were playing pool,--the prince, the big guest, Nekhliudof, Oliver, and +some one else. Nekhliudof was standing near the stove talking with some +one. When it came the big man's turn to play, it happened that his ball +was just opposite the stove. There was very little space there, and he +liked to have elbow-room. + +Now, either he didn't see Nekhliudof, or he did it on purpose; but, as he +was flourishing his cue, he hit Nekhliudof in the chest, a tremendous rap. +It actually made him groan. What then? He did not think of apologizing, he +was so boorish. He even went further: he didn't look at him; he walks off +grumbling,-- + +"Who's jostling me there? It made me miss my shot. Why can't we have some +room?" + +Then the other went up to him, pale as a sheet, but quite self-possessed, +and says so politely,-- + +"You ought first, sir, to apologize: you struck me," says he. + +"Catch me apologizing now! I should have won the game," says he, "but now +you have spoiled it for me." + +Then the other one says, "You ought to apologize." + +"Get out of my way! I insist upon it, I won't." + +And he turned away to look after his ball. + +Nekhliudof went up to him, and took him by the arm. + +"You're a boor," says he, "my dear sir." + +Though he was a slender young fellow, almost like a girl, still he was all +ready for a quarrel. His eyes flash fire; he looks as if he could eat him +alive. The big guest was a strong, tremendous fellow, no match for +Nekhliudof. + +"Wha-at!" says he, "you call me a boor?" Yelling out these words, he raises +his hand to strike him. + +Then everybody there rushed up, and seized them both by the arms, and +separated them. + +After much talk, Nekhliudof says, "Let him give me satisfaction: he has +insulted me." + +"Not at all," said the other. "I don't care a whit about any satisfaction. +He's nothing but a boy, a mere nothing. I'll pull his ears for him." + +"If you aren't willing to give me satisfaction, then you are no gentleman." + +And, saying this, he almost cried. + +"Well, and you, you are a little boy: nothing you say or do can offend me." + +Well, we separated them,--led them off, as the custom is, to different +rooms. Nekhliudof and the prince were friends. + +"Go," says the former; "for God's sake make him listen to reason." + +The prince went. The big man says, "I ain't afraid of any one," says he. "I +am not going to have any explanation with such a baby. I won't do it, and +that's the end of it." + +Well, they talked and talked, and then the matter died out, only the big +guest ceased to come to us any more. + +As a result of this,--this row, I might call it,--he was regarded as quite +the cock of the walk. He was quick to take offence,--I mean Nekhliudof,--as +to so many other things, however, he was as unsophisticated as a new-born +babe. + +I remember once, the prince says to Nekhliudof, "Whom do you keep here?" + +"No one," says he. + +"What do you mean,--'no one'!" + +"Why should I?" says Nekhliudof. + +"How so,--why should you?" + +"I have always lived thus. Why shouldn't I continue to live the same way?" + +"You don't say so? Did you ever!" + +And saying this, the prince burst into a peal of laughter, and the +whiskered bárin also roared. They couldn't get over it. + +"What, never?" they asked. + +"Never!" + +They were dying with laughter. Of course I understood well enough what they +were laughing at him for. I keep my eyes open. "What," thinks I, "will come +of it?" + +"Come," says the prince, "come right off." + +"No; not for any thing," was his answer. + +"Now, that is absurd," says the prince. "Come along!" + +They went out. + +They came back at one o'clock. They sat down to supper; quite a crowd of +them were assembled. Some of our very best customers,--Atánof, Prince +Razin, Count Shustakh, Mirtsof. And all congratulate Nekhliudof, laughing +as they do so. They call me in: I see that they are pretty jolly. + +"Congratulate the bárin," they shout. + +"What on?" I ask. + +How did he call it? His initiation or his enlightenment; I can't remember +exactly. + +"I have the honor," says I, "to congratulate you." + +And he sits there very red in the face, yet he smiles. Didn't they have fun +with him though! + +Well and good. They went afterwards to the billiard-room, all very gay; and +Nekhliudof went up to the billiard-table, leaned on his elbow, and said,-- + +"It's amusing to you, gentlemen," says he, "but it's sad for me. Why," says +he, "did I do it? Prince," says he, "I shall never forgive you or myself +as long as I live." + +And he actually burst into tears. Evidently he did not know himself what he +was saying. The prince went up to him with a smile. + +"Don't talk nonsense," says he. "Let's go home, Anatoli." + +"I won't go anywhere," says the other. "Why did I do that?" + +And the tears poured down his cheeks. He would not leave the +billiard-table, and that was the end of it. That's what it means for a +young and inexperienced man to.... + +In this way he used often to come to us. Once he came with the prince, and +the whiskered man who was the prince's crony; the gentlemen always called +him "Fedotka." He had prominent cheek-bones, and was homely enough, to be +sure; but he used to dress neatly and ride in a carriage. What was the +reason that the gentlemen were so fond of him? I really could not tell. + +"Fedotka! Fedotka!" they'd call, and ask him to eat and to drink, and +they'd spend their money paying up for him; but he was a thorough-going +beat. If ever he lost, he would be sure not to pay; but if he won, you bet +he wouldn't fail to collect his money. Often too he came to grief: yet +there he was, walking arm in arm with the prince. + +"You are lost without me," he would say to the prince. "I am, Fedot,"[51] +says he; "but not a Fedot of that sort." + +[Footnote 51: _Fedot, da nyé tot_, an untranslatable play on the word.] + +And what jokes he used to crack, to be sure! Well, as I said, they had +already arrived that time, and one of them says, "Let's have the balls for +three-handed pool." + +"All right," says the other. + +They began to play at three rubles a stake. Nekhliudof and the prince play, +and chat about all sorts of things meantime. + +"Ah!" says one of them, "you mind only what a neat little foot she has." + +"Oh," says the other, "her foot is nothing; her beauty is her wealth of +hair." + +Of course they paid no attention to the game, only kept on talking to one +another. + +As to Fedotka, that fellow was alive to his work; he played his very best, +but they didn't do themselves justice at all. + +And so he won six rubles from each of them. God knows how many games he had +won from the prince, yet I never knew them to pay each other any money; but +Nekhliudof took out two greenbacks, and handed them over to him. + +"No," says he, "I don't want to take your money. Let's square it: play +'quits or double,'[52]--either double or nothing." + +[Footnote 52: _Kitudubl_ = Fr. _quitte ou double_.] + +I set the balls. Fedotka began to play the first hand. Nekhliudof seemed to +play only for fun: sometimes he would come very near winning a game, yet +just fail of it. Says he, "It would be too easy a move, I won't have it +so." But Fedotka did not forget what he was up to. Carelessly he proceeded +with the game, and thus, as if it were unexpectedly, won. + +"Let us play double stakes once more," says he. + +"All right," says Nekhliudof. + +Once more Fedotka won the game. + +"Well," says he, "it began with a mere trifle. I don't wish to win much +from you. Shall we make it once more or nothing?" + +"Yes." + +Say what you may, but fifty rubles is a pretty sum, and Nekhliudof himself +began to propose, "Let us make it double or quit." So they played and +played. + +It kept going worse and worse for Nekhliudof. Two hundred and eighty rubles +were written up against him. As to Fedotka, he had his own method: he would +lose a simple game, but when the stake was doubled, he would win sure. + +As for the prince, he sits by and looks on. He sees that the matter is +growing serious. + +"Enough!"[53] says he, "hold on." + +[Footnote 53: _asé_ = _assez_.] + +My! they keep increasing the stake. + +At last it went so far that Nekhliudof was in for more than five hundred +rubles. Fedotka laid down his cue, and said,-- + +"Aren't you satisfied for to-day? I'm tired," says he. + +Yet I knew he was ready to play till dawn of day, provided there was money +to be won. Stratagem, of course. And the other was all the more anxious to +go on. "Come on! Come on!" + +"No,--'pon my honor, I'm tired. Come," says Fedot; "let's go up-stairs; +there you shall have your revanche." + +Up-stairs with us meant the place where the gentlemen used to play cards. +From that very day, Fedotka wound his net round him so that he began to +come every day. He would play one or two games of billiards, and then +proceed up-stairs,--every day up-stairs. + +What they used to do there, God only knows; but it is a fact that from that +time he began to be an entirely different kind of man, and seemed hand in +glove with Fedotka. Formerly he used to be stylish, neat in his dress, with +his hair slightly curled even; but now it would be only in the morning that +he would be any thing like himself; but as soon as he had paid his visit +up-stairs, he would not be at all like himself. + +Once he came down from up-stairs with the prince, pale, his lips trembling, +and talking excitedly. + +"I cannot permit such a one as _he_ is," says he, "to say that I am +not"--How did he express himself? I cannot recollect, something like "not +refined enough," or what,--"and that he won't play with me any more. I tell +you I have paid him ten thousand, and I should think that he might be a +little more considerate, before others, at least." + +"Oh, bother!" says the prince, "is it worth while to lose one's temper with +Fedotka?" + +"No," says the other, "I will not let it go so." + +"Why, old fellow, how can you think of such a thing as lowering yourself to +have a row with Fedotka?" + +"That is all very well; but there were strangers there, mind you." + +"Well, what of that?" says the prince; "strangers? Well, if you wish, I +will go and make him ask your pardon." + +"No," says the other. + +And then they began to chatter in French, and I could not understand what +it was they were talking about. + +And what would you think of it? That very evening he and Fedotka ate supper +together, and they became friends again. + +Well and good. At other times again he would come alone. + +"Well," he would say, "do I play well?" + +It's our business, you know, to try to make everybody contented, and so I +would say, "Yes, indeed;" and yet how could it be called good play, when he +would poke about with his cue without any sense whatever? + +And from that very evening when he took in with Fedotka, he began to play +for money all the time. Formerly he didn't care to play for stakes, either +for a dinner or for champagne. Sometimes the prince would say,-- + +"Let's play for a bottle of champagne." + +"No," he would say. "Let us rather have the wine by itself. Hollo there! +bring a bottle!" + +And now he began to play for money all the time; he used to spend his +entire days in our establishment. He would either play with some one in the +billiard-room, or he would go "up-stairs." + +Well, thinks I to myself, every one else gets something from him, why don't +I get some advantage out of it? + +"Well, sir," says I one day, "it's a long time since you have had a game +with me." + +And so we began to play. Well, when I won ten half-rubles of him, I says,-- + +"Don't you want to make it double or quit, sir?" + +He said nothing. Formerly, if you remember, he would call me a fool for +such a boldness. And we went to playing "quit or double." + +I won eighty rubles of him. + +Well, what would you think? Since that first time he used to play with me +every day. He would wait till there was no one about, for of course he +would have been ashamed to play with a mere marker in presence of others. +Once he had got rather warmed up by the play (he already owed me sixty +rubles), and so he says,-- + +"Do you want to stake all you have won?" + +"All right," says I. + +I won. "One hundred and twenty to one hundred and twenty?" + +"All right," says I. + +Again I won. "Two hundred and forty against two hundred and forty?" + +"Isn't that too much?" I ask. + +He made no reply. We played the game. Once more it was mine. "Four hundred +and eighty against four hundred and eighty?" + +I says, "Well, sir, I don't want to wrong you. Let us make it a hundred +rubles that you owe me, and call it square." + +You ought to have heard how he yelled at this, and yet he was not a proud +man at all. "Either play, or don't play!" says he. + +Well, I see there's nothing to be done. "Three hundred and eighty, then, if +you please," says I. + +I really wanted to lose. I allowed him forty points in advance. He stood +fifty-two to my thirty-six. He began to cut the yellow one, and missed +eighteen points; and I was standing just at the turning-point. I made a +stroke so as to knock the ball off of the billiard-table. No--so luck would +have it. Do what I might, he even missed the doublet. I had won again. + +"Listen," says he. "Peter,"--he did not call me _Petrushka_ then,--"I can't +pay you the whole right away. In a couple of months I could pay three +thousand even, if it were necessary." + +And there he stood just as red, and his voice kind of trembled. + +"Very good, sir," says I. + +With this he laid down the cue. Then he began to walk up and down, up and +down, the perspiration running down his face. + +"Peter," says he, "let's try it again, double or quit." + +And he almost burst into tears. + +"What, sir, what! would you play against such luck?" + +"Oh, let us play, I beg of you." And he brings the cue, and puts it in my +hand. + +I took the cue, and I threw the balls on the table so that they bounced +over on to the floor; I could not help showing off a little, naturally. I +say, "All right, sir." + +But he was in such a hurry that he went and picked up the balls himself, +and I thinks to myself, "Anyway, I'll never be able to get the seven +hundred rubles from him, so I can lose them to him all the same." I began +to play carelessly on purpose. But no--he won't have it so. "Why," says he, +"you are playing badly on purpose." + +But his hands trembled, and when the ball went towards a pocket, his +fingers would spread out and his mouth would screw up to one side, as if he +could by any means force the ball into the pocket. Even I couldn't stand +it, and I say, "That won't do any good, sir." + +Very well. As he won this game I says, "This will make it one hundred and +eighty rubles you owe me, and fifty games; and now I must go and get my +supper." So I laid down my cue, and went off. + +I went and sat down all by myself, at a small table opposite the door; and +I look in and see, and wonder what he will do. Well, what would you think? +He began to walk up and down, up and down, probably thinking that no one's +looking at him; and then he would give a pull at his hair, and then walk up +and down again, and keep muttering to himself; and then he would pull his +hair again. + +After that he wasn't seen for a week. Once he came into the dining-room as +gloomy as could be, but he didn't enter the billiard-room. The prince +caught sight of him. + +"Come," says he, "let's have a game." + +"No," says the other, "I am not going to play any more." + +"Nonsense! come along." + +"No," says he, "I won't come, I tell you. For you it's all one whether I go +or not, yet for me it's no good to come here." + +And so he did not come for ten days more. And then, it being the holidays, +he came dressed up in a dress suit: he'd evidently been into company. And +he was here all day long; he kept playing, and he came the next day, and +the third.... + +And it began to go in the old style, and I thought it would be fine to have +another trial with him. + +"No," says he, "I'm not going to play with you; and as to the one hundred +and eighty rubles that I owe you, if you'll come at the end of a month, you +shall have it." + +Very good. So I went to him at the end of a month. + +"By God," says he, "I can't give it to you; but come back on Thursday." + +Well, I went on Thursday. I found that he had a splendid suite of +apartments. + +"Well," says I, "is he at home?" + +"He hasn't got up yet," I was told. + +"Very good, I will wait." + +For a body-servant he had one of his own serfs, such a gray-haired old man! +That servant was perfectly single-minded, he didn't know any thing about +beating about the bush. So we got into conversation. + +"Well," says he, "what is the use of our living here, master and I? He's +squandered all his property, and it's mighty little honor or good that we +get out of this Petersburg of yours. As we started from the country, I +thought it would be as it was with the last bárin (may his soul rest in +peace!), we would go about with princes and counts and generals; he thought +to himself, 'I'll find a countess for a sweetheart, and she'll have a big +dowry, and we'll live on a big scale.' But it's quite a different thing +from what he expected; here we are, running about from one tavern to +another as bad off as we could be! The Princess Rtishcheva, you know, is +his own aunt, and Prince Borotintsef is his godfather. What do you think? +He went to see them only once, that was at Christmas-time; he never shows +his nose there. Yes, and even their people laugh about it to me. 'Why,' +says they, 'your bárin is not a bit like his father!' And once I take it +upon myself to say to him,-- + +"'Why wouldn't you go, sir, and visit your aunt? They are feeling bad +because you haven't been for so long.' + +"'It's stupid there, Demyánitch,' says he. Just to think, he found his only +amusement here in the saloon! If he only would enter the service! yet, no: +he has got entangled with cards and all the rest of it. When men get going +that way, there's no good in any thing; nothing comes to any good.... +_E-ekh!_ we are going to the dogs, and no mistake.... The late mistress +(may her soul rest in peace!) left us a rich inheritance: no less than a +thousand souls, and about three hundred thousand rubles worth of +timber-lands. He has mortgaged it all, sold the timber, let the estate go +to rack and ruin, and still no money on hand. When the master is away, of +course, the overseer is more than the master. What does he care? He only +cares to stuff his own pockets. + +"A few days ago, a couple of peasants brought complaints from the whole +estate. 'He has wasted the last of the property,' they say. What do you +think? he pondered over the complaints, and gave the peasants ten rubles +apiece. Says he, 'I'll be there very soon. I shall have some money, and I +will settle all accounts when I come,' says he. + +"But how can he settle accounts when we are getting into debt all the time? +Money or no money, yet the winter here has cost eighty thousand rubles, and +now there isn't a silver ruble in the house. And all owing to his +kind-heartedness. You see, he's such a simple bárin that it would be hard +to find his equal: that's the very reason that he's going to ruin,--going +to ruin, all for nothing." And the old man almost wept. + +Nekhliudof woke up about eleven, and called me in. + +"They haven't sent me any money yet," says he. "But it isn't my fault. Shut +the door," says he. + +I shut the door. + +"Here," says he, "take my watch or this diamond pin, and pawn it. They +will give you more than one hundred and eighty rubles for it, and when I +get my money I will redeem it," says he. + +"No matter, sir," says I. "If you don't happen to have any money, it's no +consequence; let me have the watch if you don't mind. I can wait for your +convenience." + +I can see that the watch is worth more than three hundred. + +Very good. I pawned the watch for a hundred rubles, and carried him the +ticket. "You will owe me eighty rubles," says I, "and you had better redeem +the watch." + +And so it happened that he still owed me eighty rubles. + +After that he began to come to us again every day. I don't know how matters +stood between him and the prince, but at all events he kept coming with him +all the time, or else they would go and play cards up-stairs with Fedotka. +And what queer accounts those three men kept between them! this one would +lend money to the other, the other to the third, yet who it was that owed +the money you never could find out. + +And in this way he kept on coming our way for well-nigh two years; only it +was to be plainly seen that he was a changed man, such a devil-may-care +manner he assumed at times. He even went so far at times as to borrow a +ruble of me to pay a hack-driver; and yet he would still play with the +prince for a hundred rubles stake. + +He grew gloomy, thin, sallow. As soon as he came he used to order a little +glass of absinthe, take a bite of something, and drink some port wine, and +then he would grow more lively. + +He came one time before dinner; it happened to be carnival time, and he +began to play with a hussar. + +Says he, "Do you want to play for a stake?" + +"Very well," says he. "What shall it be?" + +"A bottle of Claude Vougeaux? What do you say?" + +"All right." + +Very good. The hussar won, and they went off for their dinner. They sat +down at table, and then Nekhliudof says, "Simon, a bottle of Claude +Vougeaux, and see that you warm it to the proper point." + +Simon went out, brought in the dinner, but no wine. + +"Well," says he, "where's the wine?" + +Simon hurried out, brought in the roast. + +"Let us have the wine," says he. + +Simon makes no reply. + +"What's got into you? Here we've almost finished dinner, and no wine. Who +wants to drink with dessert?" + +Simon hurried out. "The landlord," says he, "wants to speak to you." + +Nekhliudof turned scarlet. He sprang up from the table. + +"What's the need of calling me?" + +The landlord is standing at the door. + +Says he, "I can't trust you any more, unless you settle my little bill." + +"Well, didn't I tell you that I would pay the first of the month?" + +"That will be all very well," says the landlord, "but I can't be all the +time giving credit, and having no settlement. There are more than ten +thousand rubles of debts outstanding now," says he. + +"Well, that'll do, _monshoor_, you know that you can trust me! Send the +bottle, and I assure you that I will pay you very soon." + +And he hurried back. + +"What was it? Why did they call you out?" asked the hussar. + +"Oh, some one wanted to ask me a question." + +"Now it would be a good time," says the hussar, "to have a little warm wine +to drink." + +"Simon, hurry up!" + +Simon came back, but still no wine, nothing. Too bad! He left the table, +and came to me. + +"For God's sake," says he, "Petrushka, let me have six rubles!" + +He was pale as a sheet. "No, sir," says I: "by God, you owe me quite too +much now." + +"I will give forty rubles for six, in a week's time." + +"If only I had it," says I, "I should not think of refusing you, but I +haven't." + +What do you think! He rushed away, his teeth set, his fist doubled up, and +ran down the corridor like one mad, and all at once he gave himself a knock +on the forehead. + +"O my God!" says he, "what has it come to?" + +But he did not return to the dining-room; he jumped into a carriage, and +drove away. Didn't we have our laugh over it! The hussar asks,-- + +"Where is the gentleman who was dining with me?" + +"He has gone," said some one. + +"Where has he gone? What message did he leave?" + +"He didn't leave any; he just took to his carriage, and went off." + +"That's a fine way of entertaining a man!" says he. + +Now, thinks I to myself, it'll be a long time before he comes again after +this; that is, on account of this scandal. But no. On the next day he came +about evening. He came into the billiard-room. He had a sort of a box in +his hand. Took off his overcoat. + +"Now let us have a game," says he. + +He looked out from under his eyebrows, rather fierce like. + +We played a game. "That's enough now," says he: "go and bring me a pen and +paper; I must write a letter." + +Not thinking any thing, not suspecting any thing, I bring some paper, and +put it on the table in the little room. + +"It's all ready, sir," says I. + +"Very good." He sat down at the table. He kept on writing and writing, and +muttering to himself all the time: then he jumps up, and, frowning, says, +"Look and see if my carriage has come yet." + +It was on a Friday, during carnival time, and so there weren't any of the +customers on hand; they were all at some ball. I went to see about the +carriage, and just as I was going out of the door, "Petrushka! Petrushka!" +he shouted, as if something suddenly frightened him. + +I turn round. I see he's pale as a sheet, standing here and looking at me. + +"Did you call me, sir?" says I. + +He makes no reply. + +"What do you want?" says I. + +He says nothing. "Oh, yes!" says he. "Let's have another game." + +Then says he, "Haven't I learned to play pretty well?" + +He had just won the game. "Yes," says I. + +"All right," says he; "go now, and see about my carriage." He himself +walked up and down the room. + +Without thinking any thing, I went down to the door. I didn't see any +carriage at all. I started to go up again. + +Just as I am going up, I hear what sounds like the thud of a billiard-cue. +I go into the billiard-room. I notice a peculiar smell. + +I look around; and there he is lying on the floor in a pool of blood, with +a pistol beside him. I was so scared that I could not speak a word. + +He keeps twitching, twitching his leg; and stretched himself a little. Then +he sort of snored, and stretched out his full length in such a strange way. +And God knows why such a sin came about,--how it was that it occurred to +him to ruin his own soul,--but as to what he left written on this paper, I +don't understand it at all. Truly, you can never account for what is going +on in the world. + + * * * * * + +"God gave me all that a man can desire,--wealth, name, intellect, noble +aspirations. I wanted to enjoy myself, and I trod in the mire all that was +best in me. I have done nothing dishonorable, I am not unfortunate, I have +not committed any crime; but I have done worse: I have destroyed my +feelings, my intellect, my youth. I became entangled in a filthy net, from +which I could not escape, and to which I could not accustom myself. I feel +that I am falling lower and lower every moment, and I cannot stop my fall. + +"And what ruined me? Was there in me some strange passion which I might +plead as an excuse? No! + +"My recollections are pleasant. One fearful moment of forgetfulness, which +can never be erased from my mind, led me to come to my senses. I shuddered +when I saw what a measureless abyss separated me from what I desired to be, +and might have been. In my imagination arose the hopes, the dreams, and the +thoughts of my youth. + +"Where are those lofty thoughts of life, of eternity, of God, which at +times filled my soul with light and strength? Where that aimless power of +love which kindled my heart with its comforting warmth?... + +"But how good and happy I might have been, had I trodden that path which, +at the very entrance of life, was pointed out to me by my fresh mind and +true feelings! More than once did I try to go from the ruts in which my +life ran, into that sacred path. + +"I said to myself, Now I will use my whole strength of will; and yet I +could not do it. When I happened to be alone, I felt awkward and timid. +When I was with others, I no longer heard the inward voice; and I fell all +the time lower and lower. + +"At last I came to a terrible conviction that it was impossible for me to +lift myself from this low plane. I ceased to think about it, and I wished +to forget all; but hopeless repentance worried me still more and more. +Then, for the first time, the thought of suicide occurred to me.... + +"I once thought that the nearness of death would rouse my soul. I was +mistaken. In a quarter of an hour I shall be no more, yet my view has not +in the least changed. I see with the same eyes, I hear with the same ears, +I think the same thoughts; there is the same strange incoherence, +unsteadiness, and lightness in my thoughts.".... + + + + +ALBERT. + +_A STORY._ + +1857. + + +I. + +Five rich young men went at three o'clock in the morning to a ball in +Petersburg to have a good time. + +Much champagne was drunk; a majority of the gentlemen were very young; the +girls were pretty; a pianist and a fiddler played indefatigably one polka +after another; there was no cease to the noise of conversation and dancing. +But there was a sense of awkwardness and constraint; every one felt somehow +or other--and this is not unusual--that all was not as it should be. + +There were several attempts made to make things more lively, but simulated +liveliness is much worse than melancholy. + +One of the five young men, who was more discontented than any one else, +both with himself and with the others, and who had been feeling all the +evening a sense of disgust, took his hat, and went out noiselessly on +purpose, intending to go home. + +There was no one in the ante-room, but in the next room at the door he +heard two voices disputing. The young man paused, and listened. + +"It is impossible, there are guests in there," said a woman's voice. + +"Come, let me in, please. I will not do any harm," urged a man in a gentle +voice. + +"Indeed I will not without madame's permission," said the woman. "Where are +you going? Oh, what a man you are!" + +The door was flung open, and on the threshold appeared the figure of a +stranger. Seeing a guest, the maid ceased to detain the man; and the +stranger, timidly bowing, came into the room with a somewhat unsteady gait. + +He was a man of medium stature, with a lank, crooked back, and long +dishevelled hair. He wore a short paletot, and tight ragged pantaloons over +coarse dirty boots. His necktie, twisted into a string, exposed his long +white neck. His shirt was filthy, and the sleeves came down over his lean +hands. + +But, notwithstanding his thoroughly emaciated body, his face was attractive +and fair; and a fresh color even mantled his cheeks under his thin dark +beard and side-whiskers. His dishevelled locks, thrown back, exposed a low +and remarkably pure forehead. His dark, languid eyes looked unswervingly +forward with an expression of serenity, submission, and sweetness, which +made a fascinating combination with the expression of his fresh, curved +lips, visible under his thin moustache. + +Advancing a few steps, he paused, turned to the young man, and smiled. He +found it apparently rather hard to smile. But his face was so lighted up by +it, that the young man, without knowing why, smiled in return. + +"Who is that man?" he asked of the maid in a whisper, as the stranger +walked toward the room where the dancing was going on. + +"A crazy musician from the theatre," replied the maid. "He sometimes comes +to call upon madame." + +"Where are you going, Delesof?" some one at this moment called from the +drawing-room. + +The young man who was called Delesof returned to the drawing-room. The +musician was now standing at the door; and, as his eyes fell on the +dancers, he showed by his smile and by the beating of his foot how much +pleasure this spectacle afforded him. + +"Won't you come, and have a dance too?" said one of the guests to him. The +musician bowed, and looked at the hostess inquiringly. + +"Come, come. Why not, since the gentlemen have invited you?" said the +hostess. The musician's thin, weak face suddenly assumed an expression of +decision; and smiling and winking, and shuffling his feet, he awkwardly, +clumsily went to join the dancers in the drawing-room. + +In the midst of a quadrille a jolly officer, who was dancing very +beautifully and with great liveliness, accidentally hit the musician in the +back. His weak, weary legs lost their equilibrium; and the musician, making +ineffectual struggles to keep his balance, measured his length on the +floor. + +Notwithstanding the sharp, hard sound made by his fall, almost everybody at +the first moment laughed. + +But the musician did not rise. The guests grew silent, even the piano +ceased to sound. Delesof and the hostess were the first to reach the +prostrate musician. He was lying on his elbow, and gloomily looking at the +ground. When he had been lifted to his feet, and set in a chair, he threw +back his hair from his forehead with a quick motion of his bony hand, and +began to smile without replying to the questions that were put. + +"Mr. Albert! Mr. Albert!" exclaimed the hostess. "Were you hurt? Where? +Now, I told you that you had better not try to dance.... He is so weak," +she added, addressing her guests. "It takes all his strength." + +"Who is he?" some one asked the hostess. + +"A poor man, an artist. A very nice young fellow; but he's a sad case, as +you can see." + +She said this without paying the least heed to the musician's presence. He +suddenly opened his eyes as though frightened at something, collected +himself, and remarked to those who were standing about him, "It's nothing +at all," said he suddenly, arising from the chair with evident effort. + +And in order to show that he had suffered no injury, he went into the +middle of the room, and was going to dance; but he tottered, and would have +fallen again, had he not been supported. + +Everybody felt constrained. All looked at him, and no one spoke. The +musician's glance again lost its vivacity; and, apparently forgetting that +any one was looking, he put his hand to his knee. Suddenly he raised his +head, advanced one faltering foot, and, with the same awkward gesture as +before, tossed back his hair, and went to a violin-case, and took out the +instrument. + +"It was nothing at all," said he again, waving the violin. "Gentlemen, we +will have a little music." + +"What a strange face!" said the guests among themselves. + +"Maybe there is great talent lurking in that unhappy creature," said one of +them. + +"Yes: it's a sad case,--a sad case," said another. + +"What a lovely face!... There is something extraordinary about it," said +Delesof. "Let us have a look at him."... + + +II. + +Albert by this time, not paying attention to any one, had raised his violin +to his shoulder, and was slowly crossing over to the piano, and tuning his +instrument. His lips were drawn into an expression of indifference, his +eyes were almost shut; but his lank, bony back, his long white neck, his +crooked legs, and disorderly black hair presented a strange but somehow not +entirely ridiculous appearance. After he had tuned his violin, he struck a +quick chord, and, throwing back his head, turned to the pianist who was +waiting to accompany him. "_Melancholie, G sharp_," he said, turning to the +pianist with a peremptory gesture. And immediately after, as though in +apology for his peremptory gesture, he smiled sweetly, and with the same +smile turned to his audience again. + +Tossing back his hair with the hand that held the bow, Albert stood at one +side of the piano, and, with a flowing motion of the bow, touched the +strings. Through the room there swept a pure, harmonious sound, which +instantly brought absolute silence. + +At first, it was as though a ray of unexpectedly brilliant light had +flashed across the inner world of each hearer's consciousness; and the +notes of the theme immediately followed, pouring forth abundant and +beautiful. + +Not one discordant or imperfect note distracted the attention of the +listeners. All the tones were clear, beautiful, and full of meaning. All +silently, with trembling expectation, followed the development of the +theme. From a state of tedium, of noisy gayety, or of deep drowsiness, into +which these people had fallen, they were suddenly transported to a world +whose existence they had forgotten. + +In one instant there arose in their souls, now a sentiment as though they +were contemplating the past, now of passionate remembrance of some +happiness, now the boundless longing for power and glory, now the feelings +of humility, of unsatisfied love, and of melancholy. + +Now bitter-sweet, now vehemently despairing, the notes, freely +intermingling, poured forth and poured forth, so sweetly, so powerfully, +and so spontaneously, that it was not so much that sounds were heard, as +that some sort of beautiful stream of poetry, long known, but now for the +first time expressed, gushed through the soul. + +At each note that he played, Albert grew taller and taller. At a little +distance, he had no appearance of being either crippled or peculiar. +Pressing the violin to his chin, and with an expression of listening with +passionate attention to the tones that he produced, he convulsively moved +his feet. Now he straightened himself up to his full height, now +thoughtfully leaned forward. + +His left hand, curving over spasmodically on the strings, seemed as though +it had swooned in its position, while it was only the bony fingers that +changed about spasmodically; the right hand moved smoothly, gracefully, +without effort. + +His face shone with complete, enthusiastic delight; his eyes gleamed with a +radiant, steely light; his nostrils quivered, his red lips were parted in +rapture. + +Sometimes his head bent down closer to his violin, his eyes almost closed, +and his face, half shaded by his long locks, lighted up with a smile of +genuine blissfulness. Sometimes he quickly straightened himself up, changed +from one leg to the other, and his pure forehead, and the radiant look +which he threw around the room, were alive with pride, greatness, and the +consciousness of power. Once the pianist made a mistake, and struck a false +chord. Physical pain was apparent in the whole form and face of the +musician. He paused for a second, and with an expression of childish anger +stamped his foot, and cried, "_Moll, ce moll!_" The pianist corrected his +mistake; Albert closed his eyes, smiled, and, again forgetting himself and +everybody else, gave himself up with beatitude to his work. Everybody who +was in the room while Albert was playing preserved an attentive silence, +and seemed to live and breathe only in the music. + +The gay officer sat motionless in a chair by the window, with his eyes +fixed upon the floor, and drawing long heavy sighs. The girls, awed by the +universal silence, sat along by the walls, only occasionally exchanging +glances expressive of satisfaction or perplexity. + +The fat smiling face of the hostess was radiant with happiness. The pianist +kept his eyes fixed on Albert's face, and while his whole figure from head +to foot showed his solicitude lest he should make some mistake, he did his +best to follow him. One of the guests, who had been drinking more heavily +than the rest, lay at full length on the sofa, and tried not to move lest +he should betray his emotion. Delesof experienced an unusual sensation. It +seemed as though an icy band, now contracting, now expanding, were pressed +upon his head. The roots of his hair seemed endued with consciousness; the +cold shivers ran down his back, something rose higher and higher in his +throat, his nose and palate were full of little needles, and the tears +stole down his cheeks. + +He shook himself, tried to swallow them back and wipe them away without +attracting attention, but fresh tears followed and streamed down his face. +By some sort of strange association of impressions, the first tones of +Albert's violin carried Delesof back to his early youth. + +Old before his time, weary of life, a broken man, he suddenly felt as +though he were a boy of seventeen again, self-satisfied and handsome, +blissfully dull, unconsciously happy. He remembered his first love for his +cousin who wore a pink dress, he remembered his first confession of it in +the linden alley; he remembered the warmth and the inexpressible charm of +the fortuitous kiss; he remembered the immensity and enigmatical mystery of +Nature as it surrounded them then. + +In his imagination as it went back in its flight, _she_ gleamed in a mist +of indefinite hopes, of incomprehensible desires, and the indubitable faith +in the possibility of impossible happiness. All the priceless moments of +that time, one after the other, arose before him, not like unmeaning +instants of the fleeting present, but like the immutable, full-formed, +reproachful images of the past. + +He contemplated them with rapture, and wept,--wept not because the time had +passed and he might have spent it more profitably (if that time had been +given to him again he would not have spent it any more profitably), but he +wept because it had passed and would never return. His recollections +evolved themselves without effort, and Albert's violin was their +mouthpiece. It said, "They have passed, forever passed, the days of thy +strength, of love, and of happiness; passed forever, and never will return. +Weep for them, shed all thy tears, let thy life pass in tears for these +days; this is the only and best happiness that remains to thee." + +At the end of the next variation, Albert's face grew serene, his eyes +flushed, great clear drops of sweat poured down his cheeks. The veins +swelled on his forehead; his whole body swayed more and more; his pale lips +were parted, and his whole figure expressed an enthusiastic craving for +enjoyment. Despairingly swaying with his whole body, and throwing back his +hair, he laid down his violin, and with a smile of proud satisfaction and +happiness gazed at the bystanders. Then his back assumed its ordinary +curve, his head sank, his lips grew set, his eyes lost their fire; and as +though he were ashamed of himself, timidly glancing round, and stumbling, +he went into the next room. + + +III. + +Something strange came over all the audience, and something strange was +noticeable in the dead silence that succeeded Albert's playing. It was as +though each desired, and yet dared not, to acknowledge the meaning of it +all. + +What did it mean,--this brightly lighted, warm room, these brilliant women, +the dawn just appearing at the windows, these hurrying pulses, and the pure +impressions made by the fleeting tones of music? But no one ventured to +acknowledge the meaning of it all; on the contrary, almost all, feeling +incapable of throwing themselves completely under the influence of what the +new impression concealed from them, rebelled against it. + +"Well, now, he plays mighty well," said the officer. + +"Wonderfully," replied Delesof, stealthily wiping his cheek with his +sleeve. + +"One thing sure, it's time to be going, gentlemen," said the gentleman who +had been lying on the sofa, straightening himself up a little. "We'll have +to give him something, gentlemen. Let us make a collection." + +At this time, Albert was sitting alone in the next room, on the sofa. As he +supported himself with his elbows on his bony knees, he smoothed his face +with his dirty, sweaty hand, tossed back his hair, and smiled at his own +happy thoughts. + +A large collection was taken up, and Delesof was chosen to present it. +Aside from this, Delesof, who had been so keenly and unwontedly affected by +the music, had conceived the thought of conferring some benefit upon this +man. + +It came into his head to take him home with him, to feed him, to establish +him somewhere,--in other words, to lift him from his vile position. + +"Well, are you tired?" asked Delesof, approaching him. Albert replied with +a smile. "You have creative talent; you ought seriously to devote yourself +to music, to play in public." + +"I should like to have something to drink," exclaimed Albert, as though +suddenly waking up. + +Delesof brought him some wine, and the musician greedily drained two +glasses. + +"What splendid wine!" he exclaimed. + +"What a lovely thing that _Melancholie_ is!" said Delesof. + +"Oh, yes, yes," replied Albert with a smile. "But pardon me, I do not know +with whom I have the honor to be talking; maybe you are a count or a +prince. Couldn't you let me have a little money?" He paused for a moment. +"I have nothing--I am a poor man: I couldn't pay it back to you." + +Delesof flushed, grew embarrassed, and hastened to hand the musician the +money that had been collected for him. + +"Very much obliged to you," said Albert, seizing the money. "Now let us +have some more music; I will play for you as much as you wish. Only let me +have something to drink, something to drink," he repeated, as he started to +his feet. + +Delesof gave him some more wine, and asked him to sit down by him. + +"Pardon me if I am frank with you," said Delesof. "Your talent has +interested me so much. It seems to me that you are in a wretched position." + +Albert glanced now at Delesof, now at the hostess, who just then came into +the room. + +"Permit me to help you," continued Delesof. "If you need any thing, then I +should be very glad if you would come and stay with me for a while. I live +alone, and maybe I could be of some service to you." + +Albert smiled, and made no reply. + +"Why don't you thank him?" said the hostess. "It seems to me that this +would be a capital thing for you.--Only I would not advise you," she +continued, turning to Delesof, and shaking her head warningly. + +"Very much obliged to you," said Albert, seizing Delesof's hand with both +his moist ones. "Only now let us have some music, please." + +But the rest of the guests were already making their preparations to +depart; and as Albert did not address them, they came out into the +ante-room. + +Albert bade the hostess farewell; and having taken his worn hat with wide +brim, and a last summer's _alma viva_, which composed his only protection +against the winter, he went with Delesof down the steps. + +As soon as Delesof took his seat in his carriage with his new friend, and +became conscious of that unpleasant odor of intoxication and filthiness +exhaled by the musician, he began to repent of the step that he had taken, +and to curse himself for his childish softness of heart and lack of reason. +Moreover, all that Albert said was so foolish and in such bad taste, and he +seemed so near a sudden state of beastly intoxication, that Delesof was +disgusted. "What shall I do with him?" he asked himself. + +After they had been driving for a quarter of an hour, Albert relapsed into +silence, took off his hat, and laid it on his knee, then threw himself into +a corner of the carriage, and began to snore.... The wheels crunched +monotonously over the frozen snow, the feeble light of dawn scarcely made +its way through the frosty windows. + +Delesof glanced at his companion. His long body, wrapped in his mantle, lay +almost lifeless near him. It seemed to him that a long head with large +black nose was swaying on his trunk; but on examining more closely he +perceived that what he took to be nose and face was the man's hair, and +that his actual face was lower down. + +He bent over, and studied the features of Albert's face. Then the beauty of +his brow and of his peacefully closed mouth once more charmed him. Under +the influence of nervous excitement caused by the sleepless hours of the +long night and the music, Delesof, as he looked at that face, was once more +carried back to the blessed world of which he had caught a glimpse once +before that night; again he remembered the happy and magnanimous time of +his youth, and he ceased to repent of his rashness. At that moment he loved +Albert truly and warmly, and firmly resolved to be a benefactor to him. + + +IV. + +The next morning when Delesof was awakened to go to his office, he saw, +with an unpleasant feeling of surprise, his old screen, his old servant, +and his clock on the table. + +"What did I expect to see if not the usual objects that surround me?" he +asked himself. + +Then he recollected the musician's black eyes and happy smile; the motive +of the _Melancholie_ and all the strange experiences of the night came back +into his consciousness. It was never his way, however, to reconsider +whether he had done wisely or foolishly in taking the musician home with +him. After he had dressed, he carefully laid out his plans for the day: he +took some paper, wrote out some necessary directions for the house, and +hastily put on his cloak and galoshes. + +As he went by the dining-room he glanced in at the door. Albert, with his +face buried in the pillow and lying at full length in his dirty, tattered +shirt, was buried in the profoundest slumber on the saffron sofa, where in +absolute unconsciousness he had been laid the night before. + +Delesof felt that something was not right: it disturbed him. "Please go for +me to Boriuzovsky, and borrow his violin for a day or two," said he to his +man; "and when he wakes up, bring him some coffee, and get him some clean +linen and some old suit or other of mine. Fix him up as well as you can, +please." + +When he returned home in the afternoon, Delesof, to his surprise, found +that Albert was not there. + +"Where is he?" he asked of his man. + +"He went out immediately after dinner," replied the servant. "He took the +violin, and went out, saying that he would be back again in an hour; but +since that time we have not seen him." + +"Ta, ta! how provoking!" said Delesof. "Why did you let him go, Zakhár?" + +Zakhár was a Petersburg lackey, who had been in Delesof's service for eight +years. Delesof, as a single young bachelor, could not help intrusting him +with his plans; and he liked to get his judgment in regard to each of his +undertakings. + +"How should I have ventured to detain him?" replied Zakhár, playing with +his watch-charms. "If you had intimated, Dmitri Ivánovitch, that you wished +me to keep him here, I might have kept him at home. But you only spoke of +his wardrobe." + +"Ta! how vexatious! Well, what has he been doing while I was out?" + +Zakhár smiled. + +"Indeed, he's a real artist, as you may say, Dmitri Ivánovitch. As soon as +he woke up he asked for some madeira: then he began to keep the cook and me +pretty busy. Such an absurd.... However, he's a very interesting character. +I brought him some tea, got some dinner ready for him; but he would not eat +alone, so he asked me to sit down with him. But when he began to play on +the fiddle, then I knew that you would not find many such artists at +Izler's. One might well keep such a man. When he played 'Down the Little +Mother Volga' for us, why, it was enough to make a man weep. It was too +good for any thing! The people from all the floors came down into our +entry to listen." + +"Well, did you give him some clothes?" asked the bárin. + +"Certainly I did: I gave him your dress-shirt, and I put on him an overcoat +of mine. You want to help such a man as that, he's a fine fellow." Zakhár +smiled. "He asked me what rank you were, and if you had had important +acquaintances, and how many _souls_ of peasantry you had." + +"Very good: but now we must send and find him; and henceforth don't give +him any thing to drink, otherwise you'll do him more harm than good." + +"That is true," said Zakhár in assent. "He doesn't seem in very robust +health: we used to have an overseer who, like him".... + +Delesof, who had already long ago heard the story of the drunken overseer, +did not give Zakhár time to finish, but bade him make every thing ready for +the night, and then go out and bring the musician back. + +He threw himself down on his bed, and put out the candle; but it was long +before he fell asleep, for thinking about Albert. + +"This may seem strange to some of my friends," said Delesof to himself, +"but how seldom it is that I can do any thing for any one beside myself! +and I ought to thank God for a chance when one presents itself. I will not +send him away. I will do every thing, at least every thing that I can, to +help him. Maybe he is not absolutely crazy, but only inclined to get drunk. +It certainly will not cost me very much. Where one is, there is always +enough to satisfy two. Let him live with me a while, and then we will find +him a place, or get him up a concert; we'll help him off the shoals, and +then there will be time enough to see what will come of it." An agreeable +sense of self-satisfaction came over him after making this resolution. + +"Certainly I am not a bad man: I might say I am far from being a bad man," +he thought. "I might go so far as to say that I am a good man, when I +compare myself with others." + +He was just dropping off to sleep when the sound of opening doors, and +steps in the ante-room, roused him again. "Well, shall I treat him rather +severely?" he asked himself; "I suppose that is best, and I ought to do +it." + +He rang. + +"Well, did you find him?" he asked of Zakhár, who answered his call. + +"He's a poor, wretched fellow, Dmitri Ivánovitch," said Zakhár, shaking his +head significantly, and closing his eyes. + +"What! is he drunk?" + +"Very weak." + +"Had he the violin with him?" + +"I brought it: the lady gave it to me." + +"All right. Now please don't bring him to me to-night: let him sleep it +off; and to-morrow don't under any circumstances let him out of the house." + +But before Zakhár had time to leave the room, Albert came in. + + +V. + +"You don't mean to say that you've gone to bed at this time," said Albert +with a smile. "I was there again, at Anna Ivánovna's. I spent a very +pleasant evening. We had music, told stories; there was a very pleasant +company there. Please let me have a glass of something to drink," he added, +seizing a carafe of water that stood on the table, "only not water." + +Albert was just as he had been the night before,--the same lovely smiling +eyes and lips, the same fresh inspired brow, and weak features. Zakhár's +overcoat fitted him as though it had been made for him, and the clean, +tall, stiffly-starched collar of the dress-shirt picturesquely fitted +around his delicate white neck, giving him a peculiarly childlike and +innocent appearance. + +He sat down on Delesof's bed, smiling with pleasure and gratitude, and +looked at him without speaking. Delesof gazed into Albert's eyes, and +suddenly felt himself once under the sway of that smile. All desire for +sleep vanished from him, he forgot his resolution to be stern: on the +contrary, he felt like having a gay time, to hear some music, and to talk +confidentially with Albert till morning. Delesof bade Zakhár bring a bottle +of wine, cigarettes, and the violin. + +"This is excellent," said Albert. "It's early yet, we'll have a little +music. I will play whatever you like." + +Zakhár, with evident satisfaction, brought a bottle of Lafitte, two +glasses, some mild cigarettes such as Albert smoked, and the violin. But, +instead of going off to bed as his bárin bade him, he lighted a cigar, and +sat down in the next room. + +"Let us talk instead," said Delesof to the musician, who was beginning to +tune the violin. + +Albert sat down submissively on the bed, and smiled pleasantly. + +"Oh, yes!" said he, suddenly striking his forehead with his hand, and +putting on an expression of anxious curiosity. The expression of his face +always foretold what he was going to say. "I wanted to ask you,"--he +hesitated a little,--"that gentleman who was there with you last +evening.... You called him N. Was he the son of the celebrated N.?" + +"His own son," replied Delesof, not understanding at all what Albert could +find of interest in him. + +"Indeed!" he exclaimed, smiling with satisfaction. "I instantly noticed +that there was something peculiarly aristocratic in his manners. I love +aristocrats. There is something splendid and elegant about an aristocrat. +And that officer who danced so beautifully," he went on to ask. "He also +pleased me very much, he was so gay and noble looking. It seems he is +called Adjutant N. N." + +"Who?" asked Delesof. + +"The one who ran into me when we were dancing. He must be a splendid man." + +"No, he is a silly fellow," replied Delesof. + +"Oh, no! it can't be," rejoined Albert hotly. "There's something very, very +pleasant about him. And he's a fine musician," added Albert. "He played +something from an opera. It's a long time since I have seen any one who +pleased me so much." + +"Yes, he plays very well; but I don't like his playing," said Delesof, +anxious to bring his companion to talk about music. "He does not understand +classic music, but only Donizetti and Bellini; and that's no music, you +know. You agree with me, don't you?" + +"Oh, no, no! Pardon me," replied Albert with a gentle expression of +vindication. "The old music is music; but modern music is music too. And in +the modern music there are extraordinarily beautiful things. Now, +'Somnambula,' and the _finale_ of 'Lucia,' and Chopin, and 'Robert'! I +often think,"--he hesitated, apparently collecting his thoughts,--"that if +Beethoven were alive, he would weep tears of joy to hear 'Somnambula.' It's +so beautiful all through. I heard 'Somnambula' first when Viardot and +Rubini were here. That was something worth while," he said, with shining +eyes, and making a gesture with both hands, as though he were casting +something from his breast. "I'd give a good deal, but it would be +impossible, to bring it back." + +"Well, but how do you like the opera nowadays?" asked Delesof. + +"Bosio is good, very good," was his reply, "exquisite beyond words; but she +does not touch me here," he said, pointing to his sunken chest. "A singer +must have passion, and she hasn't any. She is enjoyable, but she doesn't +torture you." + +"Well, how about Lablache?" + +"I heard him in Paris, in 'The Barber of Seville.' Then he was the only +one, but now he is old. He can't be an artist, he is old." + +"Well, supposing he is old, still he is fine in _morceaux d'ensemble_," +said Delesof, still speaking of Lablache. + +"Who said that he was old?" said Albert severely. "He can't be old. The +artist can never be old. Much is needed in an artist, but fire most of +all," he declared with glistening eyes, and raising both hands in the air. +And, indeed, a terrible inner fire seemed to glow throughout his whole +frame. "Ah, my God!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You don't know Petrof, do +you,--Petrof, the artist?" + +"No, I don't know him," replied Delesof with a smile. + +"How I wish that you and he might become acquainted! You would enjoy +talking with him. How he does understand art! He and I often used to meet +at Anna Ivánovna's, but now she is vexed with him for some reason or other. +But I really wish that you might make his acquaintance. He has great, great +talent." + +"Oh! Does he paint pictures?" asked Delesof. + +"I don't know. No, I think not; but he was an artist of the Academy. What +thoughts he had! Whenever he talks, it is wonderful. Oh, Petrof has great +talent, only he leads a very gay life!... It's too bad," said Albert with a +smile. The next moment he got up from the bed, took the violin, and began +to play. + +"Have you been at the opera lately?" asked Delesof. + +Albert looked round, and sighed. + +"Ah, I have not been able to!" he said, clutching his head. Again he sat +down by Delesof. "I will tell you," he went on to say, almost in a whisper. +"I can't go: I can't play there. I have nothing, nothing at all,--no +clothes, no home, no violin. It's a wretched life,--a wretched life!" he +repeated the phrase. "Yes, and why have I got into such a state? Why, +indeed? It ought not to have been," said he, smiling. "_Akh! Don Juan._" + +And he struck his head. + +"Now let us have something to eat," said Delesof. + +Albert, without replying, sprang up, seized the violin, and began to play +the _finale_ of the first act of "Don Juan," accompanying it with a +description of the scene in the opera. + +Delesof felt the hair stand up on his head, when he played the voice of the +dying commander. + +"No, I cannot play to-night," said Albert, laying down the instrument. "I +have been drinking too much." But immediately after he went to the table, +poured out a brimming glass of wine, drank it at one gulp, and again sat +down on the bed near Delesof. + +Delesof looked steadily at Albert. The latter occasionally smiled, and +Delesof returned his smile. Neither of them spoke, but the glance and smile +brought them close together into a reciprocity of affection. Delesof felt +that he was growing constantly fonder and fonder of this man, and he +experienced an inexpressible pleasure. + +"Were you ever in love?" he asked suddenly. Albert remained sunk in thought +for a few seconds, then his face lighted up with a melancholy smile. He +bent over toward Delesof, and gazed straight into his eyes. + +"Why did you ask me that question?" he whispered. "But I will tell you all +about it. I like you," he added, after a few moments of thought, and +glancing around. "I will not deceive you, I will tell you all, just as it +was, from the beginning." He paused, and his eyes took on a strange wild +appearance. "You know that I am weak in judgment," he said suddenly. "Yes, +yes," he continued. "Anna Ivánovna has told you about it. She tells +everybody that I am crazy. It isn't true, she says it for a joke; she is a +good woman, but I really have not been quite well for some time." Albert +paused again, and stood up, gazing with wide-opened eyes at the dark door. +"You asked me if I had ever been in love. Yes, I have been in love," he +whispered, raising his brows. "That happened long ago; it was at a time +when I still had a place at the theatre. I went to play second violin at +the opera, and she came into a parquet box at the left." + +Albert stood up, and bent over to Delesof's ear. "But no," said he, "why +should I mention her name? You probably know her, everybody knows her. I +said nothing, but simply looked at her: I knew that I was a poor artist, +and she an aristocratic lady. I knew that very well. I only looked at her, +and had no thoughts." + +Albert paused for a moment, as though making sure of his recollections. + +"How it happened I know not, but I was invited once to accompany her on my +violin.... Now I was only a poor artist!" he repeated, shaking his head and +smiling. "But no, I cannot tell you, I cannot!" he exclaimed, again +clutching his head. "How happy I was!" + +"What? did you go to her house often?" asked Delesof. + +"Once, only once.... But it was my own fault; I wasn't in my right mind. I +was a poor artist, and she an aristocratic lady. I ought not to have spoken +to her. But I lost my senses, I committed a folly. Petrof told me the +truth: 'It would have been better only to have seen her at the theatre.'" + +"What did you do?" asked Delesof. + +"Ah! wait, wait, I cannot tell you that." + +And, hiding his face in his hands, he said nothing for some time. + +"I was late at the orchestra. Petrof and I had been drinking that evening, +and I was excited. She was sitting in her box, and talking with some +general. I don't know who that general was. She was sitting at the very +edge of the box, with her arm resting on the rim. She wore a white dress, +with pearls on her neck. She was talking with him, but she looked at me. +Twice she looked at me. She had arranged her hair in such a becoming way! I +stopped playing, and stood near the bass, and gazed at her. Then, for the +first time, something strange took place in me. She smiled on the general, +but she looked at me. I felt certain that she was talking about me; and +suddenly I seemed to be not in my place in the orchestra, but was standing +in her box, and seizing her hand in that place. What was the meaning of +that?" asked Albert, after a moment's silence. + +"A powerful imagination," said Delesof. + +"No, no, ... I cannot tell," said Albert frowning. "Even then I was poor. I +hadn't any room; and when I went to the theatre, I sometimes used to sleep +there." + +"What, in the theatre?" asked Delesof. + +"Ah! I am not afraid of these stupid things. Ah! just wait a moment. As +soon as everybody was gone, I went to that box where she had been sitting, +and slept there. That was my only pleasure. How many nights I spent there! +Only once again did I have that experience. At night many things seemed to +come to me. But I cannot tell you much about them." Albert contracted his +brows, and looked at Delesof. "What did it mean?" he asked. + +"It was strange," replied the other. + +"No, wait, wait!" he bent over to his ear, and said in a whisper,-- + +"I kissed her hand, wept there before her, and said many things to her. I +heard the fragrance of her sighs, I heard her voice. She said many things +to me that one night. Then I took my violin, and began to play softly. And +I played beautifully. But it became terrible to me. I am not afraid of such +stupid things, and I don't believe in them, but my head felt terribly," he +said, smiling sweetly, and moving his hand over his forehead. "It seemed +terrible to me on account of my poor mind; something happened in my head. +Maybe it was nothing; what do you think?" + +Neither spoke for several minutes. + + _"Und wenn die Wolken sie verhüllen, + Die Sonne bleibt doch ewig klar._[54]" + +hummed Albert, smiling gently. "That is true, isn't it?" he asked. + + _"Ich auch habe gelebt und genossen."_[55] + +[Footnote 54: + + E'en though the clouds may veil it, + The sun shines ever clear. + +] + +[Footnote 55: + + I also have lived and rejoiced. + +] + +"Ah, old man Petrof! how this would have made things clear to you!" + +Delesof, in silence and with dismay, looked at his companion's excited and +colorless face. + +"Do you know the Juristen waltzes?" suddenly asked Albert in a loud voice, +and without waiting for an answer, jumped up, seized the violin, and began +to play the waltz. In absolute self-forgetfulness, and evidently imagining +that a whole orchestra was playing for him, Albert smiled, began to dance, +to shuffle his feet, and to play admirably. + +"Hey, we will have a good time!" he exclaimed, as he ended, and waved his +violin. "I am going," said he, after sitting down in silence for a little. +"Won't you come along too?" + +"Where?" asked Delesof in surprise. + +"Let us go to Anna Ivánovna's again. It's gay there,--bustle, people, +music." + +Delesof for a moment was almost persuaded. However, coming to his senses, +he promised Albert that he would go with him the next day. + +"I should like to go this minute." + +"Indeed, I wouldn't go." + +Albert sighed, and laid down the violin. + +"Shall I stay, then?" He looked over at the table, but the wine was gone; +and so, wishing him a good-night, he left the room. + +Delesof rang. "Look here," said he to Zakhár, "don't let Mr. Albert go +anywhere without asking me about it first." + + +VI. + +The next day was a holiday. Delesof, on waking, sat in his parlor, drinking +his coffee and reading a book. Albert, who was in the next room, had not +yet moved. Zakhár discreetly opened the door, and looked into the +dining-room. + +"Would you believe it, Dmitri Ivánovitch, there he lies asleep on the bare +sofa. I would not send him away for any thing, God knows. He's like a +little child. Indeed, he's an artist!" + +At twelve o'clock, there was a sound of yawning and coughing on the other +side of the door. + +Zakhár again crept into the dining-room; and the bárin heard his wheedling +voice, and Albert's gentle, beseeching voice. + +"Well, how is he?" asked Delesof, when Zakhár came out. + +"He feels blue, Dmitri Ivánovitch. He doesn't want to get dressed. He's so +cross. All he asks for is something to drink." + +"Now, if we are to get hold of him, we must strengthen his character," said +Delesof to himself. And, forbidding Zakhár to give him any wine, he again +devoted himself to his book; in spite of himself, however, listening all +the time for developments in the dining-room. + +But there was no movement there, only occasionally were heard a heavy chest +cough and spitting. Two hours passed. Delesof, after dressing to go out, +resolved to look in upon his guest. Albert was sitting motionless at the +window, leaning his head on his hands. + +He looked round. His face was sallow, morose, and not only melancholy but +deeply unhappy. He tried to welcome his host with a smile, but his face +assumed a still more woe-begone expression. It seemed as though he were on +the point of tears. + +With effort he stood up and bowed. "If I might have just a little glass of +simple vodka," he exclaimed with a supplicating expression. "I am so weak. +If you please!" + +"Coffee will be more strengthening, I would advise you." + +Albert's face lost its childish expression; he gazed coldly, sadly, out of +the window, and fell back into the chair. + +"Wouldn't you like some breakfast?" + +"No, thank you, I haven't any appetite." + +"If you want to play on the violin, you will not disturb me," said Delesof, +laying the instrument on the table. Albert looked at the violin with a +contemptuous smile. + +"No, I am too weak, I cannot play," he said, and pushed the instrument from +him. + +After that, in reply to all Delesof's propositions to go to walk, to go to +the theatre in the evening, or any thing else, he only shook his head +mournfully, and refused to speak. + +Delesof went out, made a few calls, dined out, and before the theatre hour, +he returned to his rooms to change his attire and find out how the musician +was getting along. + +Albert was sitting in the dark ante-room, and, with his head resting on his +hand, was gazing at the heated stove. He was neatly dressed, washed and +combed; but his eyes were sad and vacant, and his whole form expressed even +more weakness and debility than in the morning. + +"Well, have you had dinner, Mr. Albert?" asked Delesof. + +Albert nodded his head, and, after looking with a terrified expression at +Delesof, dropped his eyes. It made Delesof feel uncomfortable. + +"I have been talking to-day with a manager," said he, also dropping his +eyes. "He would be very glad to make terms with you, if you would like to +accept an engagement." + +"I thank you, but I cannot play," said Albert, almost in a whisper; and he +went into his room, and closed the door as softly as possible. After a few +minutes, lifting the latch as softly as possible, he came out of the room, +bringing the violin. Casting a sharp, angry look at Delesof, he laid the +instrument on the table, and again disappeared. + +Delesof shrugged his shoulders, and smiled. + +"What am I to do now? Wherein am I to blame?" he asked himself. + +"Well, how is the musician?" was his first question when he returned home +late that evening. + +"Bad," was Zakhár's short and ringing reply. "He sighs all the time, and +coughs, and says nothing at all, only he has asked for vodka four or five +times, and once I gave him some. How can we avoid killing him this way, +Dmitri Ivánovitch? That was the way the overseer".... + +"Well, hasn't he played on the fiddle?" + +"Didn't even touch it. I took it to him, twice--Well, he took it up slowly, +and carried it out," said Zakhár with a smile. "Do you still bid me refuse +him something to drink?" + +"Don't give him any thing to-day; we'll see what'll come of it. What is he +doing now?" + +"He has shut himself into the parlor." + +Delesof went into his library, took down a few French books, and the +Testament in German. "Put these books to-morrow in his room; and look out, +don't let him get away," said he to Zakhár. + +The next morning Zakhár informed his bárin that the musician had not slept +a wink all night. "He kept walking up and down his rooms, and going to the +sideboard to try to open the cupboard and door; but every thing, in spite +of his efforts, remained locked." + +Zakhár told how, while he was going to sleep, he heard Albert muttering to +himself in the darkness and gesticulating. + + * * * * * + +Each day Albert grew more gloomy and taciturn. It seemed as though he were +afraid of Delesof, and his face expressed painful terror whenever their +eyes met. He did not touch either book or violin, and made no replies to +the questions put to him. + +On the third day after the musician came to stay with him, Delesof returned +home late in the evening, tired and worried. He had been on the go all day, +attending to his duties. Though they had seemed very simple and easy, yet, +as is often the case, he had not made any progress at all, in spite of his +strenuous endeavors. Afterwards he had stopped at the club, and lost at +whist. He was out of spirits. + +"Well, God be with him," he replied to Zakhár, who had been telling him of +Albert's pitiable state. "To-morrow I shall be really worried about him. Is +he willing or not to stay with me, and follow my advice? No? Then it's +idle. I have done the best that I could." + +"That's what comes of trying to be a benefactor to people," said he to +himself. "I am putting myself to inconvenience for him. I have taken this +filthy creature into my rooms, which keeps me from receiving strangers in +the morning; I work and trot; and yet he looks upon me as some enemy who, +against his will, would keep him in pound. But the worst is, that he is not +willing to take a step in his own behalf. That's the way with them all." + +That word _all_ referred to people in general, and especially to those with +whom he had been associated in business that day. "But what is to be done +for him now? What is he contemplating? Why is he melancholy? Is he +melancholy on account of the debauch from which I rescued him? on account +of the degradation in which he has been? the humiliation from which I saved +him? Can it be that he has fallen so low that it is a burden for him to +look on a pure life?... + +"No, this was a childish action," reasoned Delesof. "Why should I undertake +to direct others, when it is as much as I can do to manage my own affairs?" + +The impulse came over him to let him go immediately, but after a little +deliberation he postponed it till the morning. + +During the night Delesof was aroused by the noise of a falling table in the +ante-room, and the sound of voices and stamping feet. + +"Just wait a little, I will tell Dmitri Ivánovitch," said Zakhár's voice; +Albert's voice replied passionately and incoherently. + +Delesof leaped up, and went with a candle into the ante-room. Zakhár in his +nightdress was standing against the door; Albert in cap and _alma viva_ was +trying to pull him away, and was screaming at him in a pathetic voice. + +"You have no right to detain me; I have a passport; I have not stolen any +thing from you. You must let me go. I will go to the police." + +"I beg of you, Dmitri Ivánovitch," said Zakhár, turning to his bárin, and +continuing to stand guard at the door. "He got up in the night, found the +key in my overcoat-pocket, and he has drunk up the whole decanter of sweet +vodka. Was that good? And now he wants to go. You didn't give me orders, +and so I could not let him out." + +Albert, seeing Delesof, began to pull still more violently on Zakhár. "No +one has the right to detain me! He cannot do it," he screamed, raising his +voice more and more. + +"Let him go, Zakhár," said Delesof. "I do not wish to detain you, and I +have no right to, but I advise you to stay till to-morrow," he added, +addressing Albert. + +"No one has the right to detain me. I am going to the police," screamed +Albert more and more furiously, addressing only Zakhár, and not heeding +Delesof. "Guard!" he suddenly shouted at the top of his voice. + +"Now, what are you screaming like that for? You see you are free to go," +said Zakhár, opening the door. + +Albert ceased screaming. "How did they dare? They were going to murder me! +No!" he muttered to himself as he put on his galoshes. Not offering to say +good-by, and still muttering something unintelligible, he went out of the +door. Zakhár accompanied him to the gate, and came back. + +"Thank the Lord, Dmitri Ivánovitch! Any longer would have been a sin," said +he to his bárin. "And now we must count the silver." + +Delesof only shook his head, and made no reply. There came over him a +lively recollection of the first two evenings which he and the musician had +spent together; he remembered the last wretched days which Albert had spent +there; and above all he remembered the sweet but absurd sentiment of +wonder, of love, and of sympathy, which had been aroused in him by the very +first sight of this strange man; and he began to pity him. + +"What will become of him now?" he asked himself. "Without money, without +warm clothing, alone at midnight!" He thought of sending Zakhár after him, +but now it was too late. + +"Is it cold out doors?" he asked. + +"A healthy frost, Dmitri Ivánovitch," replied the man. "I forgot to tell +you that you will have to buy some more firewood to last till spring." + +"But what did you mean by saying that it would last?" + + +VII. + +Out of doors it was really cold; but Albert did not feel it, he was so +excited by the wine that he had taken and by the quarrel. + +As he entered the street, he looked around him, and rubbed his hands with +pleasure. The street was empty, but the long lines of lights were still +brilliantly gleaming; the sky was clear and beautiful. "What!" he cried, +addressing the lighted window in Delesof's apartments; and then thrusting +his hands in his trousers pockets under his coat, and looking straight +ahead, he walked with heavy and uncertain steps straight up the street. + +He felt an absolute weight in his legs and abdomen, something hummed in his +head, some invisible power seemed to hurl him from side to side; but he +still plunged ahead in the direction of where Anna Ivánovna lived. + +Strange, disconnected thoughts rushed through his head. Now he remembered +his quarrel with Zakhár, now something recalled the sea and his first +voyage in the steamboat to Russia; now the merry night that he had spent +with some friend in the wine-shop by which he was passing; then suddenly +there came to him a familiar air singing itself in his recollections, and +he seemed to see the object of his passion and the terrible night in the +theatre. + +But notwithstanding their incoherence, all these recollections presented +themselves before his imaginations with such distinctness that when he +closed his eyes he could not tell which was nearer to the reality: what he +was doing, or what he was thinking. He did not realize and he did not feel +how his legs moved, how he staggered and hit against a wall, how he looked +around him, and how he made his way from street to street. + +As he went along the Little Morskaya, Albert tripped and fell. Collecting +himself in a moment, he saw before him some huge and magnificent edifice, +and he went toward it. + +In the sky not a star was to be seen, nor sign of dawn, nor moon, neither +were there any street-lights there; but all objects were perfectly +distinguishable. The windows of the edifice, which loomed up at the corner +of the street, were brilliantly lighted, but the lights wavered like +reflections. The building kept coming nearer and nearer, clearer and +clearer, to Albert. + +But the lights vanished the moment that Albert entered the wide portals. +Inside it was dark. He took a few steps under the vaulted ceiling, and +something like shades glided by and fled at his approach. + +"Why did I come here?" wondered Albert; but some irresistible power dragged +him forward into the depths of the immense hall. + +There stood some lofty platform, and around it in silence stood what seemed +like little men. "Who is going to speak?" asked Albert. No one answered, +but some one pointed to the platform. There stood now on the platform a +tall, thin man, with bushy hair and dressed in a variegated gown. Albert +immediately recognized his friend Petrof. + +"How strange! what is he doing here?" said Albert to himself. + +"No, brethren," said Petrof, pointing to something, "you did not appreciate +the man while he was living among you; you did not appreciate him! He was +not a cheap artist, not a merely mechanical performer, not a crazy, ruined +man. He was a genius, a great musical genius, who perished among you +unknown and unvalued." + +Albert immediately understood of whom his friend was speaking; but not +wishing to interrupt him, he hung his head modestly. "He, like a sheaf of +straw, was wholly consumed by the sacred fire which we all serve," +continued the voice. "But he has completely fulfilled all that God gave +him; therefore he ought to be considered a great man. You may despise him, +torture him, humiliate him," continued the voice, more and more +energetically, "but he has been, is, and will be immeasurably higher than +you all. He is happy, he is good. He loved you all alike, or cared for you, +it is all the same; but he has served only that with which he was so highly +endowed. He loved one thing,--beauty, the only infinite good in the world. +Oh, yes, what a man he is! Fall all of you before him. On your knees!" +cried Petrof in a thundering voice. + +But another voice mildly answered from another corner of the hall. "I do +not wish to bow my knee before him," said the voice. + +Albert instantly recognized Delesof. + +"Why is he great? And why should we bow before him? Has he conducted +himself in an honorable and righteous manner? Has he brought society any +advantage? Do we not know how he borrowed money, and never returned it; +how he carried off a violin that belonged to a brother artist, and pawned +it?" + +"My God! how did he know all that?" said Albert to himself, drooping his +head still lower. + +"Do we not know," the voice went on, "how he pandered to the lowest of the +low, pandered to them for money? Do we not know how he was driven out of +the theatre? How Anna Ivánovna threatened to hand him over to the police?" + +"My God! that is all true, but protect me," cried Albert. "You are the only +one who knows why I did so." + +"Stop, for shame!" cried Petrof's voice again. "What right have you to +accuse him? Have you lived his life? Have you experienced his enthusiasms?" + +"Right! right!" whispered Albert. + +"Art is the highest manifestation of power in man. It is given only to the +favored few, and it lifts the chosen to such an eminence that the head +swims, and it is hard to preserve its integrity. In art, as in every +struggle, there are heroes who bring all under subjection to them, and +perish if they do not attain their ends." + +Petrof ceased speaking; and Albert lifted his head, and tried to shout in a +loud voice, "Right! right!" but his voice died without a sound. + +"That is not the case with you. This does not concern you," sternly said +the artist Petrof, addressing Delesof. "Yes, humble him, despise him," he +continued, "for he is better and happier than all the rest of you." + +Albert, with rapture in his heart at hearing these words, could not contain +himself, but went up to his friend, and was about to kiss him. + +"Get thee gone, I do not know you," replied Petrof. "Go your own way, you +cannot come here." + +"Here, you drunken fellow, you cannot come here," cried a policeman at the +crossing. + +Albert hesitated, then collected all his forces, and, endeavoring not to +stumble, crossed over to the next street. + +It was only a few steps to Anna Ivánovna's. From the hall of her house a +stream of light fell on the snowy _dvor_, and at the gate stood sledges and +carriages. + +Clinging with both hands to the balustrade, he made his way up the steps, +and rang the bell. + +The maid's sleepy face appeared at the open door, and looked angrily at +Albert. + +"It is impossible," she cried; "I have been forbidden to let you in," and +she slammed the door. The sounds of music and women's voices floated down +to him. + +Albert sat down on the ground, and leaned his head against the wall, and +shut his eyes. At that very instant a throng of indistinct but correlated +visions took possession of him with fresh force, mastered him, and carried +him off into the beautiful and free domain of fancy. + +"Yes! he is better and happier," involuntarily the voice repeated in his +imagination. + +From the door were heard the sounds of a polka. These sounds also told him +that he was better and happier. In a neighboring church was heard the sound +of a prayer-bell; and the prayer-bell also told him that he was better and +happier. + +"Now I will go back to that hall again," said Albert to himself. "Petrof +must have many things still to tell me." + +There seemed to be no one now in the hall; and in the place of the artist +Petrof, Albert himself stood on the platform, and was playing on his violin +all that the voice had said before. + +But his violin was of strange make: it was composed of nothing but glass, +and he had to hold it with both hands, and slowly rub it on his breast to +make it give out sounds. The sounds were so sweet and delicious, that +Albert felt he had never before heard any thing like them. The more tightly +he pressed the violin to his breast, the more sweet and consoling they +became. The louder the sounds, the more swiftly the shadows vanished, and +the more brilliantly the walls of the hall were illuminated. But it was +necessary to play very cautiously on the violin, lest it should break. + +Albert played on the instrument of glass cautiously and well. He played +things the like of which he felt no one would ever hear again. + +He was growing tired, when a heavy distant sound began to annoy him. It was +the sound of a bell, but this sound seemed to have a language. + +"Yes," said the bell, with its notes coming from somewhere far off and high +up, "yes, he seems to you wretched; you despise him, but he is better and +happier than you. No one ever will play more on that instrument!" + +These words which he understood seemed suddenly so wise, so novel, and so +true, to Albert, that he stopped playing, and, while trying not to move, +lifted his eyes and his arms toward heaven. He felt that he was beautiful +and happy. Although no one was in the hall, Albert expanded his chest, and +proudly lifted his head, and stood on the platform so that all might see +him. + +Suddenly some one's hand was gently laid on his shoulder; he turned around, +and in the half light saw a woman. She looked pityingly at him, and shook +her head. He immediately became conscious that what he was doing was wrong, +and a sense of shame came over him. + +"Where shall I go?" he asked her. Once more she gazed long and fixedly at +him, and bent her head pityingly. She was the one, the very one whom he +loved, and her dress was the same; on her round white neck was the pearl +necklace, and her lovely arms were bare above the elbows. + +She took him in her arms, and bore him away through the hall. At the +entrance of the hall, Albert saw the moon and water. But the water was not +below as is usually the case, and the moon was not above; there was a white +circle in one place as sometimes happens. The moon and the water were +together,--everywhere, above and below, and on all sides and around them +both. Albert and his love darted off toward the moon and the water, and he +now realized that she whom he loved more than all in the world was in his +arms: he embraced her, and felt inexpressible felicity. + +"Is not this a dream?" he asked himself. But no, it was the reality, it was +more than reality: it was reality and recollection combined. + +Then he felt that the indescribable pleasure which he had felt during the +last moment was gone, and would never be renewed. + +"Why am I weeping?" he asked of her. She looked at him in silence, with +pitying eyes. Albert understood what she desired to say in reply. "Just as +when I was alive," he went on to say. She, without replying, looked +straight forward. + +"This is terrible! How can I explain to her that I _am_ alive?" he asked +himself in horror. "My God, I am alive! Do understand me," he whispered. + +"He is better and happier," said a voice. + +But something kept oppressing Albert ever more powerfully. Whether it was +the moon or the water, or her embrace or his tears, he could not tell, but +he was conscious that he could not say all that it was his duty to say, and +that all would be quickly over. + + * * * * * + +Two guests coming out from Anna Ivánovna's rooms stumbled against Albert +lying on the threshold. One of them went back to Anna Ivánovna, and called +her. "That was heartless," he said. "You might let a man freeze to death +that way." + +"_Akh!_ why, that is my Albert. See where he was lying!" exclaimed the +hostess. "Annushka, have him brought into the room; find a place for him +somewhere," she added, addressing the maid. + +"Oh! I am alive, why do you bury me?" muttered Albert, as they brought him +unconscious into the room. + + + + +TWO HUSSARS. + +_A TALE._ + +1856. + + Jomini, ay, Jomini, + But not a single word of vodka.[56] + +D. DAVUIDOF. + + +At the very beginning of this century, when there were no railways, no +macadamized roads, no gas or stearine candles, no low and springy sofas, no +unvarnished furniture, no disillusionized young men with eye-glasses, no +women philosophers of liberal tendencies, no dear Camilles, such as our +time has produced in abundance; in those naïve days when travellers made +the journey from Moscow to Petersburg by stage or carriage, and took with +them a whole kitchen of domestic preparations, and travelled for a week, +night and day, over soft roads, muddy or dusty as the case might be, pinned +their faith to Pozharsky cutlets, Valdaï bluebells, and pretzels; when +during the long autumn evenings tallow candles burned till they had to be +snuffed, and cast their rays on family circles of twenty or thirty people +(at balls, wax or spermaceti candles were set up in candelabra); when +furniture was placed with stiff precision; when our fathers were still +young, not merely by the absence of wrinkles and gray hair, but fought +duels for women, and were fain to rush from one end of a room to the other +to pick up a handkerchief dropped accidentally or otherwise, and our +mothers wore short waists and huge sleeves, and decided family affairs by +the drawing of lots; when charming Camilles avoided the light of day; in +the naïve period of Masonic lodges, of Martinists, and of the _Tugendbund_; +at the time of the Miloradovitches, Davuidofs, and Pushkins,--a meeting of +landed proprietors took place in the governmental city of K., and the +election of the college of nobles was drawing to a close. + +[Footnote 56: From the poem entitled, "The Song of an Old Hussar," in which +a veteran contrasts the mighty days of the past with the dilettanti +present. Denis Vasilyevitch Davuidof, who was an officer of hussars, died +in 1839.--TR.] + + +I. + +"Well, all right, it's all the same, be it in the hall," said a young +officer dressed in a shuba, and wearing a hussar's helmet, as he dismounted +from a travelling sledge in front of the best hotel of the city of K. + +"A great meeting, little father, your excellency,--a tremendous crowd," +said the hall-boy, who had already learned from the officer's man that it +was Count Turbin, and therefore honored him with the address of "your +excellency." "Madame Afrimova and her daughters have expressed the +intention of going away this evening; you can be accommodated with their +room as soon as it is vacated,--No. 11," the hall-boy went on to say, +noiselessly showing the count the way, and constantly turning round to look +at him. + +In the sitting-room, at a small table under a blackened full-length +portrait of the Emperor Alexander, sat a number of men, evidently belonging +to the local aristocracy, drinking champagne; and on one side were some +travelling merchants in blue shubas. + +The count entered the room, and calling Blücher, a huge gray boarhound that +accompanied him, he threw off his cloak, the collar of which was covered +with frost, and, after ordering vodka, sat down at the table in a short +blue-satin jacket, and entered into conversation with the gentlemen sitting +there. The latter, attracted toward the new-comer by his handsome and frank +exterior, offered him a glass of champagne. + +The count had begun to drink his glass of vodka; but now he also ordered a +bottle of champagne, in order to return the courtesy of his new companions. + +The driver came in to ask for vodka-money. + +"Sashka,"[57] cried the count, "give it to him." + +[Footnote 57: Diminished diminutive of Aleksandr.] + +The driver went out with Sashka, but quickly returned, holding the money in +his hands. + +"What! little father, 'slency, is that right? I did my best for you. You +promised me a half-ruble, and you have only given me a quarter!" + +"Sashka, give him a ruble." + +Sashka, hanging down his head, gazed at the driver's feet. + +"He will have enough," said he in his deep voice. "Besides, I haven't any +more money." + +The count drew from his pocket-book the two solitary blue notes[58] which +were in it, and gave one to the driver, who kissed his hand, and went off. +"I have come to the end," said the count, "my last five rubles." + +[Footnote 58: Blue notes were five rubles.] + +"True hussar style, count," said one of the nobles, whose mustaches, voice, +and a certain energetic freedom in the use of his legs, proclaimed him, +beyond a peradventure, to be a retired cavalryman. "Are you going to spend +some time here, count?" + +"I must have some money if I stay, otherwise I should not be very likely +to. Besides, there are no spare rooms, the Devil take it, in this cursed +tavern." + +"I beg of you, count," pursued the cavalryman, "wouldn't you like to come +in with me? My room is No. 7. If you wouldn't object to sleep there for the +present. We shall be here three days at least. To-day I was at the +marshal's: how glad he would be to see you!" + +"That's right, count, stay with us," urged another of the table companions, +a handsome young man. "What is your hurry? And besides, this happens only +once in three years,--these elections. We might get a glimpse of some of +our girls, count!" + +"Sashka, get me some clean linen. I am going to have a bath," said the +count, rising. "And then we will see; perhaps I may decide to pay my +respects to the marshal." + +Then he called the waiter, and said something to him in an undertone. The +waiter replied, with a laugh, "That is within human possibility," and went +out. + +"Well, then, little father, I have given orders to have my trunk taken to +your room," cried the count, as he went out of the door. + +"I shall consider it a favor: it delights me," replied the cavalryman as he +hastened to the door, and cried, "No.7; don't forget!" + +When the count was out of hearing, the cavalryman returned to his place, +and drawing his chair nearer to the _chinovnik_, and looking him straight +in his smiling eyes, said,-- + +"Well, he's the very one." + +"What one?" + +"I tell you that he's that very same hussar duellist,--let me see, the +famous Turbin. He knew me. I'll wager he knew me. I assure you, at Lebedyan +he and I were on a spree for three weeks, and were never sober once. That +was when I lost my remount. There was one little affair at that time,--we +were engaged in it together. Ah, he is a gay lad! isn't he, though?" + +"Indeed he is. What pleasant manners he has! There's no fault to be found +with him," replied the handsome young man. "How quickly we became +acquainted!... He isn't more than twenty-two, is he?" + +"He certainly would not seem so, would he?... But he's really more than +that. Well, now you want to know who he is, don't you? Who carried off +Megunova? He did. He killed Sablin. He kicked Matnyef out of the window. He +'did' Prince Nesterof out of three hundred thousand rubles. He's a regular +madcap. You ought to know him,--a gambler, duellist, seducer, but a +whole-souled fellow, a genuine hussar. We got talked about a good deal, but +if any one really understood what it meant to be a genuine hussar! Those +were great times." + +And the cavalryman began to tell his comrade of a drinking-bout with the +count, which had never taken place, nor could have taken place. It could +not have taken place, first, because he had never seen the count before, +and had retired from the service two years before the count had entered it; +and secondly, because this cavalryman had never served in the cavalry, but +had served four years as a very insignificant yunker in the Bielevsky +regiment; and just as soon as he was promoted to be ensign, he retired. + +But ten years before he had received an inheritance, and actually went to +Lebedyan; and there he spent seven hundred rubles with the cavalry +officers, and had had made for him an uhlan's uniform with orange lapels, +with the intention of entering the uhlans. His thought of entering the +cavalry, and his three weeks spent with the officers at Lebedyan, made the +very happiest and most brilliant period of his life; so that he began to +transfer his thought into a reality. Then, as he added remembrance to it, +he began actually to believe in his military past,--which did not prevent +him from being a worthy man through his kindness of heart and uprightness. + +"Yes, any one who has never served in the cavalry," he went on to say, +"will never understand us fellows." + +He sat astride of his chair, and, thrusting out his lower lip, went on in a +deep voice, "It happens you are riding along in front of the battalion. A +devil is under you, not a horse, prancing along; thus you sit on this +perfect devil. The battalion commander comes along. 'Lieutenant,' says he, +'I beg of you--your service is absolutely indispensable. You must lead the +battalion for the parade.' Very well, and so it goes. You look around, you +give a shout, you lead the brave fellows who are under your command. Ah! +the deuce take it! 'twas a glorious time!" + +The count came back from the bath, all ruddy, and with his hair wet, and +went directly to No. 7, where the cavalryman was already sitting in his +dressing-gown, with his pipe, and thinking with delight and some little +anxiety of the good fortune that had befallen him in sharing his room with +the famous Turbin. "Well, now," the thought came into his head, "suppose he +should take me, and strip me naked, and carry me outside the town limits, +and set me down in the snow, ... or smear me with tar ... or simply ... +But, no: he would not do such a thing to a comrade," he said, trying to +comfort himself. + +"Sashka, give Blücher something to eat," cried the count. + +Sashka made his appearance. He had been drinking glasses of vodka ever +since his arrival, and was beginning to be genuinely tipsy. + +"You have not been able to control yourself. You have been getting drunk, +_canaillya_!... Feed Blücher." + +"It won't kill him to fast.... You see, ... he's so plump," replied Sashka, +caressing the dog. + +"Now, none of your impudence. Go, and feed him." + +"All you care for is to have your dog fat; but if a man drinks a little +glass, then you pitch into him." + +"Hey! I'll strike you," cried the count with a voice that made the +window-panes rattle, and even scared the cavalryman somewhat. + +"You would better ask if _Sashka_ has had any thing to eat to-day. All +right, strike away, if a dog is more to you than a man," continued Sashka. + +But at that instant he received such a violent blow of the fist across the +face that he staggered, struck his head against the partition, and, +clutching his nose, leaped through the door, and threw himself down on a +bench in the corridor. + +"He has broken my teeth," he growled, wiping his bloody nose with one hand, +and with the other scratching Blücher's back, as the dog licked him. "He +has broken my teeth, Blüchka; and yet he is my count, and I would jump into +the fire for him, that's a fact. Because he's my count, do you understand, +Blüchka? And do you want something to eat?" + +After lying there a while, he got up, gave the dog his dinner, and, almost +sobered, went to serve his master, and get him his tea. + +"You would simply offend me," said the cavalryman timidly, standing in +front of the count, who was lying on the bed with his feet propped against +the partition. "Now, you see, I am an old soldier and comrade, I may say; +instead of letting you borrow of any one else, it would give me great +pleasure to let you have two hundred rubles. I haven't them with me +now,--only a hundred,--but I can get the rest to-day; don't refuse, you +would simply offend me, count!" + +"Thanks, little father," said Turbin, instantly perceiving what sort of +relationship would exist between them, and slapping the cavalryman on the +shoulder. "Thanks. Well, then, we'll go to the ball if you say so. But now +what shall we do? Tell me whom you have in your city: any pretty girls? +anybody ready for a spree? Who plays cards?" + +The cavalryman explained that there would be a crowd of pretty girls at the +ball; that the police commissioner,[59] Kolkof, who had just been +re-elected, was the greatest hand for sprees, only he lacked the spirit of +a genuine hussar, but still was a first-rate fellow; that Ilyushka's chorus +of gypsies had been singing at K. ever since the elections began; that +Stioshka[60] was the soloist, and that after the marshal's reception +everybody went there nowadays. And the stakes were pretty high. "Lukhnof, a +visitor here," he said, "is sweeping in the money; and Ilyin, a cornet of +uhlans, who rooms in No. 8, has already lost a pile. The game has already +begun there. They play there every evening; and he's a wonderfully fine +young fellow, I tell you, count, this Ilyin is. There's nothing mean about +him--he'd give you his last shirt." + +[Footnote 59: isprávnik.] + +[Footnote 60: Diminutive of Stepanida, Stephanie.] + +"Then let us go to his room. We will see what sort of men you have," said +the count. + +"Come on! come on! they will be mighty glad." + + +II. + +Ilyin, the cornet of uhlans, had not long been awake. The evening before, +he had sat down at the gambling-table at eight o'clock, and lost for +fifteen consecutive hours, till eleven o'clock that day. He had lost a +great amount, but exactly how much he did not know, because he had had +three thousand rubles of his money, and fifteen thousand belonging to the +treasury, which he had long ago mixed up with his own, and he did not dare +to settle his accounts lest his anticipations that he had made too great +inroads on the public money should be confirmed. + +He went to sleep about noon, and slept that heavy, dreamless sleep, +peculiar to very young men who have been losing heavily. Waking at six, +about the time that Count Turbin had arrived at the hotel, and seeing cards +and chalk and soiled tables scattered around him in confusion in the room, +he remembered with horror the evening's games, and the last card, a knave, +which had lost him five hundred rubles; but, still scarcely believing in +the reality, he drew out from under his pillow his money, and began to +count it. He recognized a few notes which, with corners turned down and +indorsements, had gone from hand to hand around the table; he remembered +all the particulars. He had lost his own three thousand rubles, and +twenty-five hundred belonging to the treasury had disappeared. + +The uhlan had been playing for four nights in succession. + +He had come from Moscow, where the public money had been intrusted to him. +At K. the post-superintendent had detained him under the pretext that there +were no post-horses, but in reality in accordance with his agreement with +the hotel-keeper to detain all visitors for a day. + +The uhlan, who was a gay young fellow, and had just received from his +parent three thousand rubles for his military equipment, was glad to spend +a few days in the city of K. during the elections, and counted on having a +good time. + +He knew a landed proprietor whose family lived there, and he was preparing +to call upon him and pay his addresses to his daughter, when the cavalryman +appeared, and made his acquaintance. That very evening, without malice +prepense, he took him down into the parlor, and introduced him to his +friends, Lukhnof and several other gamblers. From that time, the uhlan had +kept steadily at gaming, and not only had not called on the proprietor, but +had not thought of inquiring further for horses, and for four days had not +left his room. + +After he had dressed, and taken his tea, he went to the window. He felt an +inclination to go out so as to dispel the importunate recollections of the +game. He put on his cloak, and went into the street. + +The sun had just sunk behind the white houses with their red roofs. It was +already twilight. It was warm. The snow was softly falling in big, damp +flakes, in the muddy streets. His mind suddenly became filled with +unendurable melancholy at the thought that he had spent all that day in +sleep, and now the day was done. + +"This day which has gone, will never come back again," he said to himself. + +"I have wasted my youth," he suddenly exclaimed, not because he really felt +that he had wasted his youth,--he did not think about it at all,--but +simply this phrase came into his head. + +"What shall I do now?" he reasoned; "borrow of some one, and go away?" + +A lady was passing along the sidewalk. + +"What a stupid woman!" he said to himself for some reason. + +"There's no one I can borrow of. I have wasted my youth." + +He came to a block of stores. A merchant in a fox-skin shuba was standing +at the door of his shop, and inviting custom. + +"If I hadn't taken the eight, I should have won." + +A little old beggar-woman followed him, snivelling. + +"I have no one to borrow of." + +A gentleman in a bear-skin shuba passed him. A policeman was standing on +the corner. + +"What can I do that will make sensation? Fire a pistol at them? No! That +would be stupid. I have wasted my youth. _Akh!_ what a splendid harness +that is hanging in that shop! I should like to be riding behind a +troïka!... _Ekh!_ you fine fellows![61] I am going back. Lukhnof will be +there pretty soon, and we'll have a game." + +[Footnote 61: _golúbchiki_, little pigeons.] + +He returned to the hotel, and once more counted his money. No, he was not +mistaken the first time; twenty-five hundred rubles of public money were +missing, just as before. + +"I will put up twenty-five rubles first; the next time, a quarter stake; +then on seven, on fifteen, on thirty, and on sixty ... three thousand. I +will buy that harness, and start. He won't give me any odds, the villain! +I have wasted my youth!" + +This was what was passing through the uhlan's mind just as Lukhnof himself +came into the room. + +"Well, have you been up long, Mikháïlo Vasílyitch?" inquired Lukhnof, +deliberately removing from his thin nose his gold eye-glasses, and +carefully wiping them with a red silk handkerchief. + +"No, only just this minute. I had a splendid sleep!" + +"A new hussar has just come. He is staying with Zavalshevsky. Had you heard +about it?" + +"No, I hadn't. Well, no one seems to be here yet. I believe they have gone +to call on Priakhin. They'll be here very soon." + +In fact, in a short time there came into the room an officer of the +garrison, who was always hovering round Lukhnof; a Greek merchant with a +huge hooked nose, cinnamon complexion, and deep-set black eyes; a stout, +puffy proprietor, a brandy-distiller who gambled all night long, and always +made his stakes on the basis of half a ruble. All of these wished to begin +playing as promptly as possible, but the more daring players said nothing +about it; Lukhnof, in particular, with perfect equanimity, told stories of +rascality in Moscow. + +"Just think of it," said he, "Moscow, the metropolis, the capital; and +there they go out at night with crooks, dressed like demons; and they scare +the stupid people, and rob pedestrians, and that is the end of it. Do the +police notice it? No! It is astonishing!" + +The uhlan listened attentively to the tales of these highwaymen, but +finally got up and unobtrusively ordered cards to be brought. The stout +proprietor was the first to notice it. + +"Well, gentlemen, we are wasting golden moments. To work, let us to work!" + +"Yes, you won by the half-ruble last evening, and so you like it," +exclaimed the Greek. + +"It's a good time to begin," said the garrison officer. + +Ilyin looked at Lukhnof. Lukhnof, returning his gaze, went on calmly with +his story of the robbers who dressed themselves up like devils. "Will you +start the bank?" asked the uhlan. + +"Isn't it rather early?" + +"Byélof!" cried the uhlan, reddening for some reason or other; "bring me +something to eat.... I haven't had any dinner to-day, gentlemen. Bring some +champagne, and distribute the cards." + +A this moment, the count and Zavalshevsky entered. It proved that Turbin +and Ilyin were in the same division. They immediately struck up an +acquaintance, drank a glass of champagne, clinking their glasses together, +and in five minutes were calling each other "thou." + +It was evident that Ilyin made a very pleasant impression on the count. The +count smiled whenever he looked at him, and was amused at his freshness. + +"What a fine young uhlan!" he said, "what a mustache! what a splendid +mustache!" + +Ilyin's upper lip bore the first down of a mustache, that was as yet almost +white. + +"You were preparing to play, were you not?" asked the count. "Well, I +should like to win from you, Ilyin. I think that you must be a master," he +added smiling. + +"Yes, we were just starting in," replied Lukhnof, opening a pack of +cards.... "Aren't you going to join us, count?" + +"No, I won't to-night. If I did there wouldn't be any thing left of any of +you! When I take a hand I always break the bank. But I haven't any money +just now. I lost at Volotchok, at the station-house. It was by some sort of +infantry-man who wore rings; what a cheat he was! and he cleaned me out +completely." + +"Were you long there at the station?" asked Ilyin. + +"I staid there twenty-two hours. I shall not forget that station, curse it! +and the superintendent won't forget it either." + +"Why?" + +"I got there, you see; the superintendent comes out, rascally face, the +liar! 'There are no horses,' said he. Well, now I must tell you, I have +made a rule in such cases: when there are no horses, I keep on my shuba, +and go straight to the superintendent's room,--not the waiting-room, mind +you, but the superintendent's own room,--and I have all the windows and +doors opened, as though it were stifling. Well, that's what I did here. +Cold! you remember how cold it has been this last month; twenty degrees +below. The superintendent began to remonstrate. I knock his teeth in for +him. There was some old woman there; and some young girls and +peasant-women[62] set up a piping, were going to seize their pots and fly +to the village.... I go to the door, and say, 'Let me have horses, and I'll +go away: if you don't, I won't let you out, I'll freeze you all to death.'" + +[Footnote 62: _babas._] + +"What an admirable way!" said the puffy proprietor, bursting out into a +laugh. "That's the way one would freeze out cockroaches." + +"But I wasn't sufficiently on my guard: the superintendent and all his +women managed to get out and run away. Only the old woman remained on the +oven as my hostage. She kept sniffing, and offering prayers to God. Then we +entered into negotiations. The superintendent came back, and, standing at a +distance, tried to persuade me to let the old woman go. But I set Blücher +on him: Blücher is a magnificent dog to take care of superintendents. Even +then the rascal did not let me have horses till the next morning. And then +came along that footpad! I went into the next room, and began to play. Have +you seen Blücher?--Blücher! _Fiu_!" Blücher came running in. The players +received him with flattering attention, although it was evident that they +were anxious to get to work at entirely different matters. + +"By the way, gentlemen, why don't you begin your game? I beg of you, don't +let me interfere with you. You see I am a chatterbox," said Turbin. +"_Whether you love or not_, 'tis an excellent thing." + + +III. + +Lukhnof took two candles, brought out a huge dark-colored pocket-book full +of money; slowly, as though performing some sacrament, opened it on the +table; took out two one-hundred-ruble notes, and laid them on the cards. + +"There, just the same as last evening; the bank begins with two hundred," +said he, adjusting his glasses, and opening a pack of cards. + +"Very well," said Ilyin, not glancing at him, or interrupting his +conversation with Turbin. + +The game began. Lukhnof kept the bank with mechanical regularity, +occasionally pausing, and deliberately making notes, or looking sternly +over his glasses, and saying in a weak voice, "Throw." + +The stout proprietor talked louder than the rest, making various +calculations at the top of his voice, while he wet his clumsy fingers and +dog-eared his cards. + +The garrison officer silently wrote in a fine hand his account on a card, +turned down small corners, pressing them against the table. + +The Greek sat next the banker, attentively following the game with his deep +black eyes, as though waiting for something. + +Zavalshevsky, as he stood by the table, would suddenly become all of a +tremble, draw from his trousers-pocket a blue note or a red,[63] lay a card +on it, pound on it with his palm, and say, "Bring me luck, little seven!" +then he would bite his mustache, change from one leg to the other, and be +in a continual state of excitement until the card came out. + +[Footnote 63: Five or ten rubles.] + +Ilyin, who had been eating veal and cucumbers placed near him on the +haircloth sofa, briskly wiped his hands on his coat, and began to put down +one card after another. + +Turbin, who had taken his seat at first on the sofa, immediately noticed +that something was wrong. Lukhnof did not look at the uhlan, or say any +thing to him; but occasionally his eyes for an instant rested on the +uhlan's hands. The most of his cards lost. + +"If I could only trump that little card," exclaimed Lukhnof in reference to +one of the stout proprietor's cards. He was still making half-ruble wagers. + +"Trump Ilyin's instead: what would be the use of trumping mine?" replied +the proprietor. + +And, in point of fact, Ilyin's cards were trumped oftener than the others'. +He nervously tore up his losing card under the table, and with trembling +hands chose another. + +Turbin arose from the sofa, and asked the Greek to give him his place next +the banker. The Greek changed places; and the count, taking his chair, and +not moving his eyes, began to watch Lukhnof's hands attentively. + +"Ilyin," said he suddenly in his ordinary voice, which, entirely contrary +to his desire, drowned out the others, "why do you stick to those routine +cards? You don't know how to play!" + +"Supposing I don't, it's all the same." + +"You'll lose that way surely. Let me play against the bank for you." + +"No, excuse me, I beg of you. I'm always this way. Play for yourself if you +like." + +"I have told you that I am not going to play. But I should like to play for +you. I hate to see you losing so." + +"Ah, well! you see it's my luck." + +The count said nothing more, and leaning on his elbow began once more to +watch the banker's hand just as attentively as before. + +"Shameful!" he suddenly cried in a loud voice, dwelling on the word. + +Lukhnof glared at him. + +"Shameful, shameful!" he repeated still louder, staring straight into +Lukhnof's eyes. + +The game continued. + +"That is not right!" said Turbin again, as Lukhnof trumped one of Ilyin's +high cards. + +"What displeases you, count?" politely asked the banker with an air of +indifference. + +"Because you give Ilyin a simplum, and turn down your corners. That's what +is shameful!" + +Lukhnof made a slight motion with his shoulders and brows, signifying that +he was resigned to any fate, and then he went on with the game. + +"Blücher, _fiu_!" cried the count, rising; "over with him!" he added +quickly. Blücher, bumping against the sofa with his back, and almost +knocking the garrison officer from his feet, came leaping toward his +master, looking at every one and wagging his tail as though he would ask, +"Who is misbehaving here, hey?" + +Lukhnof laid down the cards, and moved his chair away. "This is no way to +play," said he. "I detest dogs. What kind of a game can you have if a whole +pack of hounds is to be brought in?" + +"Especially that kind of dog: they are called blood-suckers, if I am not +mistaken," suggested the garrison officer. + +"Well, are we to play or not, Mikháïlo Vasílyitch?" asked Lukhnof, +addressing the uhlan. + +"Don't bother us, count, I beg of you," said Ilyin, turning to Turbin. + +"Come here for a moment," said Turbin, taking Ilyin's arm, and drawing him +into the next room. + +There the count's words were perfectly audible, though he spoke in his +ordinary tone. But his voice was so powerful that it could always be heard +three rooms off. + +"Are you beside yourself? Don't you see that that man with the glasses is a +cheat of the worst order?" + +"Hey? Nonsense! Be careful what you say." + +"No nonsense! but quit it, I tell you. It makes no difference to me. +Another time I myself would have plucked you; but now I am sorry to see you +ruining yourself. Have you any public money left?" + +"No. What makes you think so about him?" + +"Brother, I have been over this same road, and I know the ways of these +professional gamblers. I tell you that the man in the glasses is a cheat. +Quit, please. I ask you as a comrade." + +"All right; I'll have just one more hand, and then have done with it." + +"I know what that 'one more' means: very well, we will see." + +They returned to the gaming-table. In one deal he laid down so many cards, +and they were trumped so badly, that he lost a large amount. + +Turbin rested his hand in the middle of the table, and said, "That's +enough! now let us be going." + +"No, I can't go yet; leave me, please," said Ilyin in vexation, shuffling +the bent cards and not looking at Turbin. + +"All right! the Devil be with you! Lose all you've got, if that please you; +but it's time for me to be going.--Come, Zavalshevsky, let us go to the +marshal's." + +And they went out. No one spoke, and Lukhnof did not make the bank until +the noise of their feet and of Blücher's paws had died away down the +corridor. + +"That's a madcap," said the proprietor, smiling. + +"Well, now he won't bother us any more," said the garrison officer in a +hurried whisper. + +And the game went on. + + +IV. + +The band, composed of the marshal's domestic serfs, were stationed in the +butler's pantry, which had been put in order on account of the ball, and, +having turned up the sleeves of their coats, had begun at the signal of +their leader to play the ancient polonaise "Aleksandr, Yelisaviéta;" and +under the soft, brilliant light of the wax candles, the couples began to +move in tripping measure through the great ballroom; a governor-general of +Catherine's time, with a star, taking out the gaunt wife of the marshal, +the marshal with the governor's wife, and so on through all the hierarchy +of the government in various combinations and variations,--when +Zavalshevsky in a blue coat with a huge collar, and epaulets on his +shoulders, and wearing stockings and pumps, and exhaling about him an odor +of jasmine with which he had plentifully drenched his mustaches, the +facings of his coat, and his handkerchief, entered with the handsome count, +who wore tight-fitting blue trousers and a red pelisse embroidered with +gold, and wearing on his breast the cross of Vladímir and a medal of 1812. + +The count was of medium height, but had an extremely handsome figure. His +clear blue eyes of remarkable brilliancy, and dark hair which was rather +long and fell in thick ringlets, gave his beauty a peculiar character. + +The count's presence at the ball was not unexpected. The handsome young +man who had seen him at the hotel had already spoken of him to the marshal. + +The impressions made by this announcement were of various kinds, but on the +whole were not altogether pleasant. + +"I suppose this young man will turn us into ridicule," was what the old +women and the men said to themselves. + +"Suppose he should run off with me," was what the wives and young ladies +thought, with more or less apprehension. + +As soon as the polonaise was finished, and the couples had made each other +low bows, once more the women formed little groups by themselves, and the +men by themselves. Zavalshevsky, proud and happy, led the count up to the +hostess. + +The marshal's wife, conscious of a certain inward trepidation lest this +hussar should make her the cause of some scandal before everybody, said +proudly and scornfully, as she turned away, "Very glad to see you. I hope +that you will dance." And then she looked at the count mistrustfully with +an expression that seemed to say, "Now, if you insult any woman, then you +are a perfect scoundrel after this." + +The count, however, quickly overcame this prejudice by his amiability, his +politeness, and his handsome jovial appearance; so that in five minutes the +expression on the face of the marshal's wife plainly declared to all who +stood around her, "I know how to manage all these men. He immediately +realized whom he was talking with. And now he will be charming to me all +the rest of the evening." + +Moreover, just then the governor, who had known his father, came up to the +count, and very graciously drew him to one side, and entered into +conversation with him, which still more pleased the fashionable society of +the town, and raised the count in their estimation. + +Then Zavalshevsky presented the count to his sister, a plump young widow, +who, ever since the count entered the room, had kept her big black eyes +fastened upon him. + +The count asked the little widow for the waltz which at that moment the +musicians had struck up, and it was his artistic dancing that conquered the +last vestiges of the popular prejudice. + +"Ah, he's a master at dancing!" said a stout lady, following the legs in +blue trousers which were flashing through the ballroom, and mentally +counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three,--he's a master." + +"How gracefully he moves his feet! how gracefully!" said another guest, who +did not stand very high in the governmental society. "How does he manage to +not hit any one with his spurs? Wonderful, very skilful!" + +The count, by his skill in dancing, eclipsed the three best dancers of the +city. These were, a governor's aide, a tall albino, who was famous for his +rapid dancing and because he held the lady pressed very close to his +breast; secondly, the cavalryman, who was famous for his graceful swaying +during the waltz, and for his frequent but light tapping with his heels; +and thirdly, a civilian of whom everybody said, that, though he was not +very strong-minded, yet he was an admirable dancer and the life of all +balls. + +In point of fact, this civilian from the beginning to the end of a ball +invariably invited all the ladies in the order in which they sat, did not +cease for a moment to dance, and only occasionally paused to wipe his +weary but still radiant face with his cambric handkerchief, which would +become wet through. + +The count had surpassed them all, and had danced with the three principal +ladies,--with the stout one, who was rich, handsome, and stupid; with the +middle-sized one, who was lean, and not particularly good-looking, but +handsomely dressed; and with the little one, who was not pretty, but very +witty. + +He had danced also with others,--with all the pretty women, and there were +many pretty women there. + +But the little widow, Zavalshevsky's sister, pleased the count more than +all the rest; with her he danced a quadrille and a schottische and a +mazurka. + +At first, when they took their places for the quadrille, he overwhelmed her +with compliments, comparing her to Venus and Diana, and to a rosebush, and +to some other flower besides. + +To all these amenities the little widow only bent her white neck, modestly +dropped her eyes, and, looking at her white muslin dress, changed her fan +from one hand to the other. + +When, at last, she said, "This is too much, count; you are jesting," etc., +her voice, which was rather guttural, betrayed such _naïve_ simplicity of +heart and amusing naturalness that the count, as he looked at her, actually +compared her, not to a flower or to a rosebush, but to some kind of a +pinkish-white wild-flower, exuberant and odorless, growing alone on a +virgin snow-drift in some far, far-distant land. + +Such a strange impression was made upon the count by this union of +_naïveté_ and unconventionality together with fresh beauty, that several +times, in the pauses of the conversation, when he looked silently into her +eyes or contemplated the loveliness of her arms and neck, the desire came +over him with such vehemence to take her into his arms and kiss her again +and again, that he was really obliged to restrain himself. + +The little widow was quite satisfied with the impression which she +perceived that she had made; but there was something in the count's +behavior that began to disquiet her, and fill her with apprehensions, +though the young hussar was not only flatteringly amiable, but even, to an +extravagant degree, deferential in his treatment of her. + +He ran to get orgeat for her, picked up her handkerchief, snatched a chair +from the hands of a scrofulous young proprietor, who was also anxious to +pay her attention, and who was not quick enough. But perceiving that these +assiduities, which were fashionable at that period, had little effect in +making the lady well-disposed, he began to amuse her by telling her +ridiculous anecdotes: he assured her that he was ready at a moment's notice +to stand on his head, or to crow like a cock, or to jump out of the window, +or to fling himself into a hole in the ice. + +This procedure was a brilliant success: the little widow became very gay; +she rippled with laughter, displaying her marvellous white teeth, and +became entirely satisfied with her cavalier. The count each moment grew +more and more enchanted with her, so that at the end of the quadrille he +was really in love with her. + +After the quadrille, when she was approached by her former admirer, a young +man of eighteen, the son of a very rich proprietor, the same scrofulous +young man from whom Turbin had snatched away the chair, she received him +with perfect coolness, and not one-tenth part of the constraint was +noticeable in her which she felt when she was with the count. + +"You are very kind," she said, all the time gazing at Turbin's back, and +unconsciously reckoning how many yards[64] of gold-lace were used for his +whole jacket. "You are very kind; you promised to come to take me for a +walk, and to bring me some comfits." + +[Footnote 64: _arshins._] + +"Well, I did come, Anna Fedorovna, but you weren't at home, and I left the +very best comfits for you," said the young man, in a voice that was very +thin, considering his height. + +"You always are provided with excuses; I don't need your comfits. Please do +not think".... + +"I begin to see, Anna Fedorovna, how you have changed toward me, and I know +why. But it is not right," he added, but without finishing his remark, +evidently owing to some powerful interior emotion, which caused his lips to +tremble strangely. + +Anna Fedorovna did not heed him, and continued to follow Turbin with her +eyes. The marshal, at whose house the ball was given,--a big, stout old +man, who had lost his teeth,--came up to the count, and, taking him by the +arm, invited him into his library to smoke and drink if he so desired. + +As soon as Turbin disappeared, Anna Fedorovna felt that there was +absolutely nothing for her to do in the ballroom, and slipping her hand +through the arm of a dried-up old maid, who was a friend of hers, went with +her into the dressing-room. + +"Well, what do you think of him? Is he nice?" asked the old maid. + +"Only it's terrible--the way he follows you up!" said Anna Fedorovna, going +to the mirror, and contemplating herself in it. + +Her face was aglow, her eyes were full of mischief, her color was +heightened; then suddenly imitating one of the ballet-dancers whom she had +seen during election time, she pirouetted round on one toe, and, laughing +her guttural but sweet laugh, she leaped up in the air, crossing her knees. + +"What a man he is! he even asked me for a _souvenir_," she confided to her +friend. "But he will ne-e-ver get one," she said, singing the last words, +and lifting one finger in the lilac-colored glove that reached to her +elbow. + +In the library where Turbin was conducted by the marshal, stood various +kinds of vodka, liqueurs, edibles,[65] and champagne. In a cloud of +tobacco-smoke the nobility were sitting, or walking up and down, talking +about the elections. + +[Footnote 65: _zakuski._] + +"When the whole of the high nobility of our district has honored him with +an election," exclaimed the newly elected isprávnik who was already +tolerably tipsy, "he certainly ought not to fail in his duties toward +society in general." + +The conversation was interrupted by the count's coming. All were presented +to him, and the isprávnik especially pressed his hand long between both of +his, and asked him several times to go with him after the ball to the new +tavern, where he would treat the gentlemen of the nobility, and where they +would hear the gypsies sing. + +The count accepted his invitation, and drank with him several glasses of +champagne. + +"Why aren't you dancing, gentlemen?" he asked, as he was about to leave the +library. + +"We aren't dancers," replied the isprávnik, laughing. "We prefer the wine, +count; and besides, all these young ladies have grown up under my eyes, +count. But still, I do sometimes take part in a schottische, count. I can +do it, count." + +"Come on then for a while," said Turbin. "Let us have some sport before we +go to the gypsies." + +"What say you, gentlemen? Let us come! Let us delight our host!" + +And the three gentlemen who, since the beginning of the ball, had been +drinking in the library and had very red faces, began to draw on their +gloves, some of black kid, another of knit silk, and were just going with +the count to the ballroom, when they were detained by the scrofulous young +man, who, pale as a sheet, and scarcely able to refrain from tears, came +straight up to Turbin. + +"You have an idea, because you are a count, you can run into people as if +you were at a fair," said he, with difficulty drawing his breath; "hence it +isn't fitting"-- + +Once more the stream of his speech was interrupted by the involuntary +trembling of his lips. + +"What?" cried Turbin, frowning suddenly, "what?... You're a baby," he +cried, seizing him by the arm, and squeezing it so that the blood rushed to +the young man's head, not so much from vexation as from fright. "What is +it? Do you want to fight? If so, I am at your service." + +Turbin had scarcely let go of his arm, which he had squeezed so powerfully, +when two nobles seized the young man by the sleeve, and carried him off +through a back door. + +"What! have you lost your wits? You've surely been drinking too much. We +shall have to tell your papa. What's the matter with you?" they asked. + +"No, I haven't been drinking; but he ran into me, and did not apologize. +He's a hog, that's what he is," whined the young man, now actually in +tears. + +Nevertheless they paid no attention to him, but carried him off home. + +"Never mind, count," said the isprávnik and Zavalshevsky assuringly. "He's +a mere child. They still whip him: he's only sixteen years old. It's hard +to tell what is to be done with him. What fly stung him? And his father is +such an honorable man! He's our candidate." + +"Well, the Devil take him if he refuses".... + +And the count returned to the ballroom, and, as gayly as before, danced the +schottische with the pretty little widow, and laughed heartily when he saw +the antics of the gentlemen who had come with him out of the library. There +was a general burst of merriment all through the ballroom when the +isprávnik tripped, and measured his length on the floor in the midst of the +dancers. + + +V. + +Anna Fedorovna, while the count was in the library, went to her brother, +and, for the very reason of her conviction that she ought to pretend to +feel very little interest in the count, she began to question him. + +"Who is this hussar that has been dancing with me? Tell me, brother." + +The cavalryman explained, to the best of his ability, what a great man this +hussar was, and in addition he told his sister that the count had stopped +there simply because his money had been stolen on the route: he himself had +loaned him a hundred rubles, but that was not enough. Couldn't his sister +let him have two hundred more? Zavalshevsky asked her not to say any thing +about this to any one, and, above all, not to the count. + +Anna Fedorovna promised to send the money the next day, and to keep it a +secret; but somehow or other, during the schottische, she had a terrible +desire to offer the count as much money as he needed. + +She deliberated, blushed, and at last, mastering her confusion, thus +addressed herself to the task:-- + +"My brother told me, count, that you had met with a misfortune on the road, +and hadn't any money. Now, if you need some, wouldn't you take some of me? +I should be terribly glad." + +But after she had thus spoken, Anna Fedorovna suddenly was overcome with +fright, and blushed. All the gayety had instantly vanished from the +count's face. + +"Your brother is a fool!" said he in a cutting tone. "You know, when a man +insults a man, then they fight a duel; but when a woman insults a man, then +what do they do? Do you know?" + +Poor Anna Fedorovna blushed to her ears with confusion. She dropped her +eyes, and made no reply. + +"They kiss the woman in public," said the count softly, bending over to +whisper in her ear. "Permit me, however, to kiss your little hand," he +added almost inaudibly, after a long silence, having some pity on his +lady's confusion. + +"Ah! only not quite yet," urged Anna Fedorovna, with a deep sigh. + +"But when, then? To-morrow I am going away early.... But really, you owe it +to me." + +"Well, then, of course it is impossible," said Anna Fedorovna smiling. + +"Only give me a chance to see you before to-morrow, so that I may kiss your +hand. I will find one." + +"How will you find one?" + +"That is my affair. I can do any thing to see you.... Is it agreed?" + +"Agreed." + +The schottische came to an end; they danced through the mazurka, and in it +the count did marvels, purloining handkerchiefs, bending on one knee, and +clinking his spurs in an extraordinary manner, after the Warsaw style, so +that all the old men came from their _boston_ to look into the ballroom; +and the cavalryman who was the best dancer confessed himself outdone. After +they had eaten supper, they danced still the _gross vater_, and began to +disperse. + +The count all this time did not take his eyes from the little widow. He had +not been insincere when he declared his readiness to throw himself into a +hole in the ice. + +Whether it was caprice or love or stubbornness, but that evening all the +strength of his mind had been concentrated into one desire,--to see and to +love her. + +As soon as he perceived that Anna Fedorovna was taking her farewell of the +hostess, he hastened to the servants' quarters, and thence, without his +shuba, to the place where the carriages were drawn up. + +"Anna Fedorovna Zaïtsova's equipage," he cried. + +A high four-seated carriage with lanterns moved out, and started to drive +up to the doorstep. + +"Stop!" shouted the count to the coachman, rushing up toward the carriage +through snow that was knee-deep. + +"What is wanted?" called the driver. + +"I want to get into the carriage," replied the count, opening the door as +the carriage moved, and trying to climb in. + +"Stop, you devil! stupid! Vaska![66] stop!" cried the coachman to the +postilion, and reining in the horses. "What are you getting into another +person's carriage for? This belongs to the Lady Anna Fedorovna, and not to +your grace." + +[Footnote 66: Diminutive of Vasili.] + +"Hush up, blockhead! _Na!_ there's a ruble for you; now come down and shut +the door!" said the count. + +But as the coachman did not move, he lifted the steps himself, and, +shutting the window, managed to pull the door to. + +In this, as in all ancient carriages, especially those upholstered in +yellow galloon, there was an odor of mustiness and burnt bristles. + +The count's legs were wet to the knees from melting snow, and almost +freezing in his thin boots and trousers; and his whole body was penetrated +by a cold like that of winter. + +The coachman was grumbling on his box, and seemed to be getting ready to +get down. But the count heard nothing and felt nothing. His face was aglow, +his heart was beating violently. He convulsively clutched the yellow strap, +thrust his head out of the side-window, and his whole being was +concentrated in expectation. + +He was not doomed to wait long. At the door-steps, they shouted, +"Zaïtsova's carriage!" The coachman shook his reins, the carriage swung on +its high springs; the lighted windows of the house passed one after another +by the carriage-windows. + +"See here, rogue, if you tell the lackey that I am here," said the count, +thrusting his head through the front window, and addressing the coachman, +"you'll feel my whip; but if you hold your tongue, I will give you ten +rubles more." + +He had scarcely time to close the window, when the carriage shook again +still more violently, and then the wheels came to a stop. + +He drew back as far as possible into the corner; he ceased to breathe; he +even shut his eyes, so apprehensive was he, lest his passionate expectation +should be disappointed. + +The door was opened; one after the other, with a creak, the steps were let +down; a woman's dress rustled, and the close atmosphere of the carriage +was impregnated by the odor of jasmine; a woman's dainty feet hurried up +the steps, and Anna Fedorovna, brushing against the count's leg with the +skirt of her cloak, which was loosely thrown about her, silently, and with +a deep sigh, took her place on the cushioned seat next him. + +Whether she saw him or not, no one could decide, not even Anna Fedorovna +herself: but when he took her hand, and said, "Now I will kiss your little +hand anyway," she evinced very little dismay. She said nothing, but let him +take her hand, which he covered with kisses, not stopping at the glove. + +The carriage rolled off. + +"Tell me something. You are not angry?" said he to her. + +She silently sank back into her corner, but suddenly, for some reason or +other, burst into tears, and let her head fall on his breast. + + +VI. + +The newly elected isprávnik, with his company, the cavalryman, and other +members of the nobility, had already been listening for some time to the +gypsies, and drinking at the new tavern, when the count, in a blue-lined +bear-skin shuba which had belonged to Anna Fedorovna's late husband, joined +them. + +"Little father, your excellency! we have almost given up expecting you," +said a squint-eyed black gypsy with brilliant teeth, who met him in the +entry and divested him of his shuba. "We haven't met since we were at +Lebedyan.... Stioshka has pined away on account of you." + +Stioshka, a slender young gypsy-girl[67] with a cherry red bloom on her +cinnamon-colored cheeks, with brilliant deep black eyes, shaded by long +eyelashes, also hurried to meet him. + +"Ah! dear little count![68] my sweetheart! This is a pleasure," she +exclaimed through her teeth, with a joyous smile. + +[Footnote 67: _tsiganotchka._] + +[Footnote 68: _grafchik! golubchik!_] + +Ilyushka himself came to greet Turbin, pretending that he was very glad to +see him. The old women, the wives, the young girls, hastened to the spot +and surrounded the guest. + +One would have said that he was a relative or a god-brother to them. + +Turbin kissed all the young gypsy girls on the lips; the old women and the +men kissed him on the shoulder or on the hand. + +The gentlemen were also very glad of the count's arrival; the more because +the festivity, having passed its apogee, was now becoming tame; every one +began to feel a sense of satiety. The wine, having lost its exhilarating +effect on the nerves, only served to load the stomach. Everybody had +discharged the last cannon of his wildness, and was looking around moodily. +All the songs had been sung, and ran in the heads of each, leaving a mere +impression of noise and confusion. + +Whatever any one did that was strange and wild, the rest began to look upon +it as nothing very entertaining or amusing. + +The isprávnik stretched out on the floor in shameless fashion at the feet +of some old woman, kicked his leg in the air, and began to cry,-- + +"Champagne!... The count has come!... Champagne!... He has come!... Now +give us champagne!... I will make a bath of champagne, and swim in it! +Gentlemen of the nobility, I love your admirable society!... Stioshka, sing +'The Narrow Road.'" + +The cavalryman was also very gay, but in a different fashion. He was +sitting in a corner of a sofa with a tall, handsome gypsy, Liubasha; and +with the consciousness that intoxication was beginning to cloud his eyes, +he kept blinking them, and swinging his head, and repeating the same words +over and over again: he was proposing in a whisper to the gypsy to fly with +him somewhere. + +Liubasha, smiling, listened to him as though what he said were very amusing +to her, and at the same time rather melancholy. Occasionally she cast her +glances at her husband, the squint-eyed Sashka, who was standing behind a +chair near her. In reply to the cavalryman's declaration of love, she bent +over to his ear, and begged him to buy her some perfume and a ribbon +without any one knowing it, so that the others should not see it. + +"Hurrah!" cried the cavalryman when the count came in. + +The handsome young man, with an expression of anxiety, was walking up and +down the room with solicitously steady steps, and humming an air from the +"Revolt in the Seraglio." + +An old _paterfamilias_, dragged out to see the gypsies through the +irresistible entreaties of the gentlemen of the nobility, who had told him +that if he staid away every thing would go to pieces, and in that case they +had better not go, was lying on a sofa where he had stretched himself out +immediately on his arrival; and no one paid any attention to him. + +A chinovnik, who had been there before, had taken off his coat, was sitting +with his legs on the table, and was rumpling up his hair, and thus proving +that he understood how to be dissipated. + +As soon as the count came in, the official unbuttoned his shirt-collar, and +lifted his legs still higher. The count's arrival generally gave new life +to the festivities. + +The gypsy girls, who had been scattered about the room, again formed their +circle. The count seated Stioshka, the soloist, on his knee, and ordered +more champagne to be brought. Ilyushka, with his guitar, stood in front of +the soloist, and began the _plyaska_, that is, the gypsy song and dance, +"When I walk upon the Street," "Hey! you Hussars," "Do you hear, do you +understand?" and others of the usual order. + +Stioshka sang splendidly. Her flexible, sonorous contralto, with its deep +chest notes, her smiles while she was singing, her mischievous, passionate +eyes, and her little foot which involuntarily kept time to the measure of +the song, her despairing wail at the end of each couplet,--this all touched +some resonant but tender chord. It was evident that she lived only in the +song that she was singing. + +Ilyushka, in his smile, his back, his legs, his whole being, carrying out +in pantomime the idea expressed in the song, accompanied it on his guitar, +and, fixing his eyes upon her as though he were hearing her for the first +time, attentively and carefully lifted and drooped his head with the rhythm +of the song. + +Then he suddenly straightened himself up as the singer sang the last note, +and, as though he felt himself superior to every one else in the world, +with proud deliberation kicked the guitar, turned it over, stamped his +foot, tossed back his locks, and looked at the chorus with a frown. + +All his body, from his neck to his toes, began to dance in every sinew. + +And twenty powerful, energetic voices, each trying to outdo the other in +making strange and extraordinary noises, were lifted in union. + +The old women sprang down from their chairs, waving their handkerchiefs, +and showing their teeth, and crying in rhythmic measure, each louder than +the other. The bassos, leaning their heads on one side, and swelling their +necks, bellowed from behind their chairs. + +When Stioshka emitted her high notes, Ilyushka brought his guitar nearer to +her as though trying to aid her; and the handsome young man, in his +enthusiasm, cried out that now they struck B-flat. + +When they came to the national dance, the Plyasovaya, and Duniasha, with +shoulders and bosom shaking, stepped in front of the count, and was passing +on, Turbin leaped from his place, took off his uniform, and, remaining only +in his red shirt, boldly joined her, keeping up the same measure, and +cutting with his feet such antics, that the gypsies laughed and exchanged +glances of approval. + +The isprávnik, who was sitting Turkish fashion, pounded his chest with his +fist, and cried "_Vivat!_" and then, seizing the count by the leg, began to +tell him that out of two thousand rubles, he had only five hundred left and +that he might do whatever he pleased, if only the count would permit him. + +The old _paterfamilias_ woke up, and wanted to go home, but they would not +let him. The handsome young man asked a gypsy girl to waltz with him. The +cavalryman, anxious to exalt himself by his friendship with the count, got +up from his corner, and embraced Turbin. "Ah, my turtle-dove!" he cried. +"Why must you leave us so soon? ha?" The count said nothing, being +evidently absorbed in thought. "Where did you go? Ah, you rascal, I know +where you went!" + +This familiarity somehow displeased the Count Turbin. Without smiling, he +looked in silence into the cavalryman's face, and suddenly gave him such a +terrible and grievous affront that the cavalryman was mortified, and for +some time did not know what to make of such an insult, whether it were a +joke or not a joke. At last he made up his mind that it was a joke; he +smiled, and returned to his gypsy, assuring her that he would really marry +her after Easter. + +Another song was sung, a third, they danced again; the round of gayety was +kept up, and every one continued to feel gay. There was no end to the +champagne. + +The count drank a great deal. His eyes seemed to grow rather moist, but he +did not grow dizzy; he danced still better than the rest, spoke without any +thickness, and even joined in a chorus, and supported Stioshka when she +sang "The sweet emotion of friendship." + +In the midst of the dance and song the merchant, who kept the hotel, came +to beg the guests to go home, as it was three o'clock in the morning. + +The count took the landlord by the throat, and ordered him to dance the +_prisiadka_. The merchant refused. The count snatched a bottle of +champagne, and standing the merchant on his head ordered him to stay so, +and then amid general hilarity poured the whole bottle over him. + +The dawn was already breaking. All were pale and weary except the count. + +"At all events, I must go to Moscow," said he, suddenly rising. "Come with +me, all of you, to my room, children.... See me off, and let us have some +tea." + +All accompanied him with the exception of the sleeping proprietor, who +still remained there; they piled into three sledges that were waiting at +the door, and drove off to the hotel. + + +VII. + +"Have the horses put in!" cried the count, as he entered the sitting-room +of the hotel with all his friends including the gypsies. + +"Sashka,--not the gypsy Sashka, but mine,--tell the superintendent that if +the horses are poor I will flog him. Now give us some tea. Zavalshevsky, +make some tea; I am going to Ilyin's; I want to find how things have gone +with him," added Turbin; and he went out into the corridor, and directed +his steps to the uhlan's room. + +Ilyin was just through playing, and, having lost all his money down to his +last kopek, had thrown himself face down on the worn-out haircloth sofa, +and was picking the hairs out one by one, sticking them in his mouth, +biting them into two, and spitting them out again. + +Two tallow candles, one of which was already burnt down to the paper, stood +on the card-cluttered ombre-table, and mingled their feeble rays with the +morning light which was beginning to shine through the window. + +The uhlan's mind was vacant of all thought: that strange thick fog of the +gambling-passion muffled all the capabilities of his mind so that there was +not even room for regret. + +Once he endeavored to think what was left for him to do, how he should get +away without a kopek, how he should pay back the fifteen thousand rubles +of public money that he had lost in gambling, what his colonel would say, +what his mother would say, what his comrades would say; and such fear came +over him, and such disgust at himself, that, in his anxiety to rid himself +of the thought of it, he arose and began to walk up and down through the +room, trying only to walk on the cracks of the floor; and then once more he +began to recall all the least details of the evening. + +He vividly imagined that he was winning the whole back again: he takes a +nine, and lays down a king of spades on two thousand rubles; a queen lies +at the right, at the left an ace, at the right a king of diamonds--and all +was lost! but if he had had a six at the right and a king of diamonds at +the left, then he would have won it all back, he would have staked all +again on P, and would have won back his fifteen thousand rubles, then he +would have bought a good pacer of the colonel, an extra pair of horses, and +a phaëton. And what else besides? Ah! indeed it would have been a splendid, +splendid thing! + +Again he threw himself down on the sofa, and began to bite the hairs once +more. + +"Why are they singing songs in No. 7?" he wondered. "It must be, they are +having a jollification in Turbin's room. I'm of a good mind to go there, +and have a little drink." + +Just at this moment the count came in. + +"Well, have you been losing, brother, hey?" he cried. + +"I will pretend to be asleep, otherwise I shall have to talk with him, and +I really want to sleep now." + +Nevertheless Turbin went up to him, and laid his hand caressingly on his +head.... "Well, my dear little friend, have you been losing? have you had +bad luck? Tell me." + +Ilyin made no reply. + +The count took him by the arm. + +"I have been losing. What is it to you?" muttered Ilyin, in a sleepy voice +expressing indifference and vexation; he did not change his position. + +"Every thing?" + +"Well, yes. What harm is there in it? All! What is it to you?" + +"Listen: tell me the truth, as to a comrade," said the count, who, under +the influence of the wine that he had been drinking, was disposed to be +tender, and continued to smooth the other's hair. "You know I have taken a +fancy to you. Tell me the truth. If you have lost the public money, I will +help you; if you don't, it will be too late.... Was it public money?" + +Ilyin leaped up from the sofa. + +"If you wish me to tell you, don't speak to me so, because ... and I beg of +you don't speak to me.... I will blow my brains out--that's the only thing +that's left for me now!" he exclaimed with genuine despair, letting his +head sink into his hands, and bursting into tears, although but the moment +before he had been calmly thinking about his horses. + +"_Ekh!_ you're a pretty young girl! Well, who might not have the same thing +happen to him? It isn't as bad as it might be; perhaps we can straighten +things out: wait for me here." + +The count hastened from the room. + +"Where is the _pomyeshchik_[69] Lukhnof's room?" he demanded of the +hall-boy. + +[Footnote 69: Landed proprietor.] + +The hall-boy offered to show the count the way. The count in spite of the +objections of the lackey, who said that his master had only just come in +and was preparing to retire, entered the room. + +Lukhnof in his dressing-gown was sitting in front of a table, counting over +a number of packages of bank-notes piled up before him. On the table was a +bottle of Rheinwein, of which he was very fond. He had procured himself +this pleasure from his winnings. + +Coldly, sternly, Lukhnof looked at the count over his glasses, affecting +not to recognize him. + +"It seems that you do not know me," said the count, proceeding toward the +table with resolute steps. + +Lukhnof recognized the count, and asked,-- + +"What is your pleasure?" + +"I wish to play with you," said Turbin, sitting down on the sofa. + +"Now?" + +"Yes." + +"Another time I should be most happy, count; but now I am tired, and am +getting ready to go to bed. Won't you have some wine? It is excellent +wine." + +"But I wish to play with you for a little while _now_." + +"I am not prepared to play any more. Maybe some of the other guests will. +_I will not_, count! I beg of you to excuse me." + +"Then you will not?" + +Lukhnof shrugged his shoulders as though to express his regret at not being +able to fulfil the count's desires. + +"Will you not play under any consideration?" + +The same gesture. + +"I am very desirous of playing with you.... Say, will you play, or not?" + +Silence. + +"Will you play?" asked the count a second time. + +The same silence, and a quick glance over his glasses at the count's face, +which was beginning to grow sinister. + +"Will you play?" cried the count in a loud voice, striking his hand on the +table so violently that the bottle of Rheinwein toppled over and the wine +ran out. "You have been cheating, have you not? Will you play? I ask you +the third time." + +"I have told you, no! This is truly strange, count, ... perfectly +unjustifiable, to come this way, and put your knife at a man's throat," +remarked Lukhnof, not lifting his eyes. + +A brief silence followed, during which the count's face grew paler and +paler. Suddenly Lukhnof received a terrible blow on the head, which stunned +him. He fell back on the divan, trying to grasp the money, and screamed in +a penetratingly despairing tone, such as was scarcely to be expected from +him, he was always so calm and imposing in his deportment. + +Turbin gathered up the remaining bank-notes that were lying on the table, +pushed away the servant who had come to his master's assistance, and with +quick steps left the room. + +"If you wish satisfaction, I am at your service; I shall be in my room for +half an hour yet,--No. 7," added the count, turning back as he reached the +door. + +"Villain! thief!" cried a voice from within the room.... "I will have +satisfaction at law!" + +Ilyin, who had not paid any heed to the count's promise to help him, was +still lying on the sofa in his room, drowned in tears of despair. + +The count's caresses and sympathy had awakened him to a consciousness of +the reality, and now, amidst the fog of strange thoughts and recollections +which filled his mind, it made itself more and more felt. + +His youth, rich in hopes, honor, his social position, the dreams of love +and friendship, were all destroyed forever. The fountain of his tears began +to run dry, a too calm feeling of hopelessness took possession of him; and +the thought of suicide, now bringing no sense of repulsion or terror, more +and more frequently recurred to him. + +At this moment the count's firm steps were heard. + +On Turbin's face were still visible the last traces of his recent wrath, +his hands trembled slightly; but in his eyes shone a kindly gayety and +self-satisfaction. + +"There! It has been won back for you!" he cried, tossing upon the table +several packages of bank-notes. "Count them; are they all there? Then come +as soon as possible to the sitting-room; I am going off right away," he +added, as though he did not perceive the tremendous revulsion of joy and +gratefulness which rushed over the uhlan's face. Then, humming a gypsy +song, he left the room. + + +VIII. + +Sashka, tightening his girdle, was waiting for the horses to be harnessed, +but was anxious to go first and get the count's cloak, which, with the +collar, must have been worth three hundred rubles, and return that +miserable blue-lined shuba to that rascally man who had exchanged with the +count at the marshal's. But Turbin said that it was not necessary, and went +to his room to change his clothes. + +The cavalryman kept hiccoughing as he sat silently by his gypsy maiden. The +isprávnik called for vodka, and invited all the gentlemen to come and +breakfast with him, promising them that his wife would, without fail, dance +the national dance with the gypsies. + +The handsome young man was earnestly arguing with Ilyushka that there was +more soul in the piano-forte, and that it was impossible to take B-flat on +the guitar. The chinovnik was gloomily drinking tea in one corner, and +apparently the daylight made him feel ashamed of his dissipation. + +The gypsies were conversing together in Romany, and urging that they should +once more enliven the gentlemen; to which Stioshka objected, declaring that +it would only vex the _barorai_,--that is, in Romany, count or prince, or +rather great bárin. + +For the most part, the last spark of the orgy was dying out. + +"Well, then, one more song for a farewell, and then home with you," +exclaimed the count, fresh, gay, and radiant above all the others, as he +came into the room ready dressed in his travelling suit. + +The gypsies had again formed their circle, and were just getting ready to +sing, when Ilyin came in with a package of bank-notes in his hand, and drew +the count to one side. + +"I had only fifteen thousand rubles of public money, but you gave me +sixteen thousand three hundred," said the uhlan; "this is yours, of +course." + +"That's a fine arrangement. Let me have it." + +Ilyin handed him the money, looking timidly at the count, and opened his +mouth to say something; but then he reddened so painfully that the tears +came into his eyes, and he seized the count's hand, and began to squeeze +it. + +"Away with you, Ilyushka ... listen to me! Now, here's your money, but you +must accompany me with your songs to the city limits!" And he threw on his +guitar the thirteen hundred rubles which Ilyin had brought him. But the +count had forgotten to repay the cavalryman the one hundred rubles which he +had borrowed of him the evening before. + +It was now ten o'clock in the morning. The little sun was rising above the +housetops, the streets were beginning to fill with people, the merchants +had long ago opened their shops, nobles and chinovniks were riding up and +down through the streets, and ladies were out shopping, when the band of +gypsies, the isprávnik, the cavalryman, the handsome young fellow, Ilyin, +and the count who was wrapped up in his blue-lined bear-skin shuba, came +out on the door-steps of the hotel. + +It was a sunny day, and it thawed. Three hired tróïkas, with their tails +knotted, and splashing through the liquid mud, pranced up to the steps; and +the whole jolly company prepared to take their places. The count, Ilyin, +Stioshka, Ilyushka, and Sashka the count's man,[70] mounted the first +sledge. + +[Footnote 70: _denshchik._] + +Blücher was beside himself with delight, and, wagging his tail, barked at +the shaft-horse. + +The other gentlemen, together with the gypsies, men and women, climbed into +the other sledges. From the very hotel the sledges flew off side by side, +and the gypsies set up a merry chorus and song. + +The tróïkas, with the songs and jingling bells, dashed through the whole +length of the city to the gates, compelling all the equipages which they +met to rein up on the very sidewalks. + +Merchants and passers-by who did not know them, and especially those who +did, were filled with astonishment to see nobles of high rank, in the midst +of "the white day," dashing through the streets with intoxicated gypsies, +singing at the tops of their voices. + +When they reached the city limits, the tróïkas stopped, and all the party +took farewell of the count. + +Ilyin, who had drunk considerable at the leave-taking, and had all the time +been driving the horses, suddenly became melancholy, and began to urge the +count to stay just one day more; but when he was assured that this was +impossible, quite unexpectedly threw himself into his arms, and began to +kiss his new friend, and promised him that as soon as he got to camp, he +would petition to be transferred into the regiment of hussars in which +Count Turbin served. + +The count was extraordinarily hilarious; he tipped into a snow-drift the +cavalryman, who, since morning, had definitely taken to saying _thou_ to +him; he set Blücher on the isprávnik; he took Stioshka into his arms, and +threatened to carry her off with him to Moscow; but at last he tucked +himself into the sledge, and stationed Blücher by his side, who was always +ready to ride. Sashka took his place on the box, after once more asking the +cavalryman to secure the count's cloak from _them_, and to send it to him. +The count cried "Go on,"[71] took off his cap, waved it over his head, and +whistled in post-boy fashion to the horses. The tróïkas parted company. + +[Footnote 71: _próshol._] + +As far as the eye could see, stretched a monotonous snow-covered plain, +over which wound the yellowish muddy ribbon of the road. + +The bright sunlight, dancing, glistened on the melting snow, which was +covered with a thin crust of transparent ice, and pleasantly warmed the +face and back. + +The steam arose from the sweaty horses. The bells jingled. + +A peasant[72] with a creaking sledge, heavily loaded, slowly turned out +into the slushy snow, twitching his hempen reins, and tramping with his +well-soaked sabots.[73] + +[Footnote 72: _muzhík._] + +[Footnote 73: _lapti._] + +A stout, handsome peasant woman, with a child wrapped in a sheep-skin on +her lap, who was seated on another load, used the end of her reins to whip +up a white mangy-tailed old nag. + +Suddenly the count remembered Anna Fedorovna. + +"Turn round!" he cried. + +The driver did not understand. + +"Turn round and drive back; back to the city! Be quick about it." The +tróïka again passed the city gate, and quickly drew up in front of the +boarded steps of the Zaïtsova dwelling. + +The count briskly mounted the steps, passed through the vestibule and the +parlor, and finding the widow still asleep he took her in his arms, lifting +her from her bed, and kissed her sleeping eyes again and again, and then +darted back to the sledge. + +Anna Fedorovna awoke from her slumber, and demanded, "What has happened?" + +The count took his seat in his sledge, shouted to the driver, and now no +longer delaying, and thinking not of Lukhnof nor of the little widow, nor +of Stioshka, but only of what was awaiting him in Moscow, rapidly left the +city of K. behind him. + + +IX. + +A score of years have passed. Much water has run since then, many men have +died, many children have been born, many have grown up and become old; +still more thoughts have been born and perished. Much that was beautiful +and much that was ugly in the past have disappeared; much that is beautiful +in the new has been brought forth, and still more that is incomplete and +abortive of the new has appeared in God's world. + +Count Feódor Turbin was long ago killed in a duel with some foreigner whom +he struck on the street with his long whip. His son, who was as like him as +two drops of water, had already reached the age of two or three and twenty, +and was a lovely fellow, already serving in the cavalry. + +Morally the young Count Turbin was entirely different from his father. +There was not a shadow of those fiery, passionate, and in truth be it said, +corrupt inclinations, peculiar to the last century. + +Together with intelligence, cultivation, and inherited natural gifts, a +love for the proprieties and amenities of life, a practical view of men and +circumstances, wisdom and forethought, were his chief characteristics. + +The young count made admirable progress in his profession; at twenty-three +he was already lieutenant.... When war broke out, he came to the conclusion +that it would be more for his interests to enter the regular army; and he +joined a regiment of hussars as captain of cavalry, where he soon was given +command of a battalion. + +In the month of May, 1848, the S. regiment of hussars was on its way +through the government of K., and the very battalion which the young Count +Turbin commanded was obliged to be quartered for one night at Morozovka, +Anna Fedorovna's village. Anna Fedorovna was still alive, but was now so +far from being young that she no longer called herself young, which, for a +woman, means much. + +She had grown very stout, and this, it is said, restores youth in a woman. +But that was not the worst of it: over her pale, stout flesh was a net-work +of coarse, flabby wrinkles. She no longer went to the city, she even found +it hard to mount into her carriage; but still she was just as good-natured +and as completely vacant-minded as ever,--the truth might safely be told, +now that it was no longer palliated by her beauty. + +Under her roof lived her daughter Liza, a rustic Russian belle of +twenty-three summers, and her brother, our acquaintance the cavalryman, who +had spent all his patrimony in behalf of others, and now, in his old age, +had taken refuge with Anna Fedorovna. + +The hair on his head had become perfectly gray; his upper lip was sunken, +but the mustache that it wore was carefully dyed. Wrinkles covered not only +his brow and cheeks, but also his nose and neck; and yet his weak bow-legs +gave evidence of the old cavalryman. + +Anna Fedorovna's whole family and household were gathered in the small +parlor of the ancient house. The balcony door and windows, looking out into +a star-shaped garden shaded by lindens, were open. Anna Fedorovna, in her +gray hair and a lilac-colored gown,[74] was sitting on the sofa, before a +small round mahogany table, shuffling cards. The old brother, dressed in +spruce white pantaloons and a blue coat, had taken up his position near the +window, knitting strips of white cotton on a fork, an occupation which his +niece had taught him, and which gave him great enjoyment, as he had nothing +else to do, his eyes not being strong enough to enable him to read +newspapers, which was his favorite occupation. Near him Pímotchka, a +_protégée_ of Anna Fedorovna, was studying her lessons under the guidance +of Liza, who with wooden knitting-needles was knitting stockings of +goat-wool for her uncle. + +[Footnote 74: _katsavéïka._] + +The last rays of the setting sun, as always at this time, threw under the +linden alley their soft reflections on the last window-panes and the little +_étagère_ which stood near it. + +In the garden it was so still that one could hear the swift rush of a +swallow's wings, and so quiet in the room that Anna Fedorovna's gentle +sigh, or the old man's cough as he kept changing the position of his legs, +was the only sound. + +"How does this go, Lízanka? show me, please. I keep forgetting," said Anna +Fedorovna, pausing in the midst of her game of patience. Liza, without +stopping her work, went over to her mother, and, glancing at the cards, +"Ah!" says she. "You have mixed them all up, dear mamasha," said she, +arranging the cards. "That is the way they should be placed. Now they come +as you desired," she added, secretly withdrawing one card. + +"Now you are always managing to deceive me! You said that it would go." + +"No, truly; it goes, I assure you. It has come out right." + +"Very well, then; very well, you rogue! But isn't it time for tea?" + +"I have just ordered the samovár heated. I will go and see about it +immediately. Shall we have it brought here?... Now, Pímotchka, hasten and +finish your lessons, and we will go and take a run." + +And Liza started for the door. + +"Lízotchka! Lízanka!" cried her uncle, steadfastly regarding his fork, +"again it seems to me I have dropped a stitch. Arrange it for me, my +darling."[75] + +[Footnote 75: _golúbchik._] + +"In a moment, in a moment. First I must have the sugar broken up." + +And in point of fact, within three minutes, she came running into the room, +went up to her uncle, and took him by the ear. + +"That's to pay you for dropping stitches," said she laughing. "You have not +been knitting as I taught you." + +"Now, that'll do, that'll do, adjust it for me; there seems to be some sort +of a knot." + +Liza took the fork, pulled out a pin from her kerchief, which was blown +back a little by the breeze coming through the window, picked it out a +couple of times, and handed it back to her uncle. + +"Now you must kiss me for that," said she, putting up her rosy cheek toward +him, and re-adjusting her kerchief. "You shall have rum in your tea to-day. +To-day is Friday, you see." + +And again she went to the tea-room. + +"Uncle dear, come and look! some hussars are riding up toward the house!" +her ringing voice was heard to say. Anna Fedorovna and her brother hastened +into the tea-room, the windows of which faced the village, and looked at +the hussars. Very little was to be seen; through the cloud of dust it could +be judged only that a body of men was advancing. + +"What a pity, sister," remarked the uncle to Anna Fedorovna, "what a pity +that we are so cramped, and the wing is not built yet, so that we might +invite the officers here. Officers of the hussars! they are such glorious, +gay young fellows! I should like to have a glimpse at them." + +"Well, I should be heartily glad, but you know yourself that there is +nowhere to put them: my sleeping-room, Liza's room, the parlor, and then +your room,--judge for yourself. Mikháïlo Matveef has put the +_stárosta's_[76] house in order for them; he says it will be nice there." + +[Footnote 76: Village elder.] + +"But we must find you a husband, Lízotchka, among them,--a glorious +hussar!" said the uncle. + +"No, I do not want a hussar: I want an uhlan. Let me see, you served among +the uhlans, didn't you, uncle?... I don't care to know these hussars. They +say they are desperate fellows." + +And Liza blushed a little, and then once more her ringing laugh was heard. +"There's Ustiushka running: we must ask her what she saw," said she. Anna +Fedorovna sent to have Ustiushka brought in. + +"She has no idea of sticking to her work, she must always be running off to +look at the soldiers," said Anna Fedorovna.... "Now, where have they lodged +the officers?" + +"With the Yeremkins, your ladyship. There are two of them, such lovely men! +One of them is a count, they tell me." + +"What's his name?" + +"Kazárof or Turbínof. I don't remember, excuse me." + +"There now, you're a goose, you don't know how to tell any thing at all. +You might have remembered his name!" + +"Well, I'll run and find out." + +"I know that you are quite able to do that. But no, let Danílo +go.--Brother, go and tell him to go; have him ask if there is not something +which the officers may need; every thing must be done in good form; have +them understand that it is the lady of the house who has sent to find out." + +The old people sat down again in the tea-room, and Liza went to the +servants' room to put the lumps of sugar in the sugar-bowl. Ustiushka was +telling them there about the hussars. + +"O my dear young lady, what a handsome man he is! that count!" she said, +"absolutely a little cherubim,[77] with black eyebrows. You ought to have +such a husband as that; what a lovely little couple you would make!" The +other maids smiled approvingly; the old nurse, sitting by the window with +her stocking, sighed, and, drawing a long breath, murmured a prayer. + +[Footnote 77: _kherubimchik._] + +"It seems to me that the hussars have given you a great deal of pleasure," +said Liza. "You are a master hand at description. Bring me the _mors_,[78] +Ustiushka, please; we must give the officers something sour to drink." And +Liza, laughing, went out with the sugar-bowl. + +[Footnote 78: A sour beverage made of cranberries.] + +"But I should like to see what sort of a man this hussar is,--whether he is +brunet or blondin. And I imagine he would not object to making our +acquaintance. But he will go away, and never know that I was here and was +thinking about him. And how many have passed by me in this way! No one ever +sees me except uncle and Ustiushka! How many times I have arranged my hair, +how many pairs of cuffs I have put on, and yet no one ever sees me or falls +in love with me," she thought with a sigh, contemplating her white, plump +hand. + +"He must be tall, and have big eyes, and a nice little black mustache.... +No! I am already over twenty-two, and no one has ever fallen in love with +me except the pock-marked Iván Ipátuitch. And four years ago I was still +better-looking; and so my girlhood has gone, and no one is the better for +it. Ah! I am an unhappy country maiden!" + +Her mother's voice, calling her to bring the tea, aroused the country +maiden from this momentary revery. + +She shook her little head, and went into the tea-room. + +The best things always happen unexpectedly; and the more you try to force +them, the worse they come out. In the country it is rare that any attempt +is made to impart education, and therefore when a good one is found it is +generally a surprise. And thus it happened, in a notable degree, in the +case of Liza. Anna Fedorovna, through her own lack of intelligence and +natural laziness, had not given Liza any education at all; had not taught +her music, nor the French language which is so indispensable. But the girl +had fortunately been a healthy, bright little child: she had intrusted her +to a wet-nurse and a day-nurse; she had fed her, and dressed her in print +dresses and goat-skin shoes, and let her run wild and gather mushrooms and +berries; had her taught reading and arithmetic by a resident seminarist. +And thus, as fate would have it, at the age of sixteen, she found in her +daughter a companion, a soul who was always cheerful and good-natured, and +the actual mistress of the house. + +Through her goodness of heart, Anna Fedorovna always had in her house some +_protégée_, either a serf or some foundling. Liza, from the time she was +ten years old, had begun to take care of them; to teach them, clothe them, +take them to church, and keep them still when they were inclined to be +mischievous. + +Then her old broken-down but good-natured uncle made his appearance, and he +had to be taken care of like a child. Then the domestic servants and the +peasants began to come to the young mistress with their desires and their +ailments; and she treated them with elderberry, mint, and spirits of +camphor. Then the domestic management of the house fell into her hands +entirely. Then came the unsatisfied craving for love, which found +expression only in nature and religion. + +Thus Liza, by chance, grew into an active, good-naturedly cheerful, +self-poised, pure, and deeply religious young woman. + +To be sure, she had her little fits of jealousy and envy when she saw, all +around her in church, her neighbors dressed in new, fashionable hats that +came from K.; she was sometimes vexed to tears by her old, irritable +mother, and her caprices; she had her dreams of love in the most absurd and +even the crudest forms, but her healthy activity, which she could not +shirk, drove them away; and now, at twenty-two, not a single spot, not a +single compunction, had touched the fresh, calm soul of this maiden, now +developed into the fulness of perfect physical and moral beauty. + +Liza was of medium height, rather plump than lean; her eyes were brown, +small, with a soft dark shade on the lower lid; she wore her flaxen hair in +a long braid. + +In walking she took long steps, and swayed like a duck, as the saying is. + +The expression of her face, when she was occupied with her duties, and +nothing especially disturbed her, seemed to say to all who looked into it, +"Life in this world is good and pleasant to one who has a heart full of +love, and a pure conscience." + +Even in moments of vexation, of trouble, of unrest, or of melancholy, in +spite of her tears, of the drawing-down of the left brow, of the compressed +lips, of the petulance of her desires, even then in the dimples of her +cheeks, in the corners of her mouth, and in her brilliant eyes, so used to +smile and rejoice in life,--even then there shone a heart good and upright, +and unspoiled by knowledge. + + +X. + +It was still rather warm, though the sun was already set, when the +battalion arrived at Morozovka. In front of them, along the dusty village +street, trotted a brindled cow, separated from the herd, bellowing, and +occasionally stopping to look round, and never once perceiving that all she +had to do was to turn out and let the battalion pass. + +Peasants, old men, women, children, and domestic serfs, crowding both sides +of the road, gazed curiously at the hussars. + +Through a thick cloud of dust the hussars rode along on raven-black horses, +curvetting and occasionally snorting. + +At the right of the battalion, gracefully mounted on beautiful black +steeds, rode two officers. One was the commander, Count Turbin; the other a +very young man, who had recently been promoted from the yunkers; his name +was Polózof. + +A hussar, in a white kittel, came from the best of the cottages, and, +taking off his cap, approached the officers. + +"What quarters have been assigned to us?" asked the count. + +"For your excellency?" replied the quartermaster, his whole body +shuddering. "Here at the _stárosta's_; he has put his cottage in order. I +tried to get a room at the mansion,[79] but they said no; the proprietress +is so ill-tempered." + +[Footnote 79: _barsky dvor._] + +"Well, all right," said the count, dismounting and stretching his legs as +he reached the _stárosta's_ cottage. "Tell me, has my carriage come?" + +"It has deigned to arrive, your excellency," replied the quartermaster, +indicating with his cap the leathern carriage-top which was to be seen +inside the gate, and then hastening ahead into the entry of the cottage, +which was crowded with the family of serfs, gathered to have a look at the +officer. + +He even tripped over an old woman, as he hastily opened the door of the +neatly cleaned cottage, and stood aside to let the count pass. + +The cottage was large and commodious, but not perfectly clean. The German +body-servant,[80] dressed like a bárin, was standing in the cottage, and, +having just finished setting up the iron bed, was taking out clean linen +from a trunk. + +[Footnote 80: _kammerdiener._] + +"_Phu!_ what a nasty lodging!" exclaimed the count in vexation. "Diádenko! +Is it impossible to find me better quarters at the proprietor's or +somewhere?" + +"If your excellency command, I will go up to the mansion," replied +Diádenko; "but the house is small and wretched, and seems not much better +than the cottage." + +"Well, that's all now. You can go." + +And the count threw himself down on the bed, supporting his head with his +hands. + +"Johann!" he cried to his body-servant; "again you have made a hump in the +middle. Why can't you learn to make a bed decently?" + +Johann was anxious to make it over again. + +"No, you need not trouble about it now!... Where's my dressing-gown?" he +proceeded to ask in a petulant voice. The servant gave him the +dressing-gown. + +The count, before he put it on, examined the skirt. "There it is! You have +not taken that spot out! Could it be possible for any one to be a worse +servant than you are?" he added, snatching the garment from the servant's +hands, and putting it on. "Now tell me, do you do this way on purpose? Is +tea ready?" + +"I haven't had time to make it," replied Johann. + +"Fool!" + +After this, the count took a French novel which was at hand, and read for +some time without speaking; but Johann went out into the entry to blow up +the coals in the samovár. + +It was plain to see that the count was in a bad humor; it must have been +owing to weariness, to the dust on his face, to his tightly-fitting +clothes, and to his empty stomach. "Johann!" he cried again, "give me an +account of those ten rubles. What did you get in town?" + +The count looked over the account which the servant handed him, and made +some dissatisfied remarks about the high prices paid. + +"Give me the rum for the tea." + +"I did not get any rum," said Johann. + +"Delightful! How many times have I told you always to have rum?" + +"I didn't have money enough." + +"Why didn't Polózof buy it? You might have got some from his man." + +"The cornet Polózof? I do not know. He bought tea and sugar." + +"Beast! Get you gone. You are the only man who has the power to exhaust my +patience! You know that I always take rum in my tea when I am on the +march." + +"Here are two letters one of the staff brought for you," said the +body-servant. + +The count, as he lay on the bed, tore open the letters, and began to read +them. At this moment the cornet came in with gay countenance, having +quartered the battalion. + +"Well, how is it, Turbin? It's first-rate here, seems to me. I am tired +out, I confess it. It has been a warm day." + +"First-rate! I should think so! A dirty, stinking hut! and no rum, thanks +to you. Your stupid did not buy any, nor this one either. You might have +said something anyway!" + +And he went on with his reading. After he had read the letter through, he +crumpled it up, and threw it on the floor. + +"_Why_ didn't you buy some rum?" the cornet in a whisper demanded of his +servant in the entry. "Didn't you have any money?" + +"Well, why should we be always the ones to spend the money? I have enough +to spend for without that, and _his_ German does nothing but smoke his +pipe,--that's all." + +The second letter was evidently not disagreeable, because the count smiled +as he read it. + +"Who's that from?" asked Polózof, returning to the room, and trying to +arrange for himself a couch on the floor, near the oven. + +"From Mina," replied the count gayly, handing him the letter. "Would you +like to read it? What a lovely woman she is! Now, she's better than our +young ladies, that's a fact. Just see what feeling and what wit in that +letter! There's only one thing that I don't like,--she asks me for money!" + +"No, that's not pleasant," replied the cornet. + +"Well it's true I promised to give her some; but this expedition--And +besides, if I am commander of the battalion, at the end of three months I +will send some to her. I should not regret it; she's really a lovely woman. +Isn't she?" he asked with a smile, following with his eyes Polózof's +expression as he read the letter. + +"Horribly misspelled, but sweet; it seems to me she really loves you," +replied the cornet. + +"Hm! I should think so! Only these women truly love when they do love." + +"But who was that other letter from?" asked the cornet, pointing to the one +which he had read. + +"That? Oh, that's from a certain man, very ugly, to whom I owe a gambling +debt, and this is the third time that he has reminded me of it. I can't pay +it to him now. It's a stupid letter," replied the count, evidently nettled +by the recollection of it. + +The two officers remained silent for some little time. The cornet, who, it +seemed, had come under Turbin's influence, drank his tea without speaking, +though he occasionally cast a glance at the clouded face of the handsome +count, who gazed steadily out of the window. He did not venture to renew +the conversation. + +"Well, then, I think it can be accomplished without difficulty," suddenly +exclaimed the count, turning to Polózof, and gayly nodding his head. "If we +who are in the line get promoted this year, yes, and if we take part in +some engagement, then I can overtake my former captains of the guard." + +They were drinking their second cup of tea, and the conversation was still +dwelling on this theme, when the old Danílo came with the message from Anna +Fedorovna. + +"And she would also like to know whether you are not pleased to be the son +of Feódor Ivánovitch Turbin," he added, on his own responsibility, as he +had found out the officer's name, and still remembered the late count's +visit to the city of K. "Our mistress,[81] Anna Fedorovna, used to be very +well acquainted with him." + +[Footnote 81: _báruinya._] + +"He was my father. Now tell the lady that I am very much obliged, but that +I need nothing; only, if it would not be possible to give me a cleaner room +in the mansion, say, or somewhere." + +"Now, why did you do that?" asked Polózof after Danílo had gone. "Isn't it +just the same thing? For one night isn't it just as well here? And it will +put them to inconvenience." + +"There it is again! It seems to me we have had enough of being sent round +among these smoky hovels.[82] It's easy enough to see that you are not a +practical man. Why shouldn't we seize the opportunity, when we can, of +sleeping, even if it's for only one night, like decent men? And they, +contrary to what you think, will be mighty glad. There's only one thing +objectionable. If this lady used to know my father," continued the count, +with a smile that discovered his white gleaming teeth,--"somehow I always +feel a little ashamed of my late papasha; there's always some scandalous +story, or some debt or other. And so I can't endure to meet any of my +father's acquaintances. However, that was an entirely different age," he +added seriously. + +[Footnote 82: _kúrnaya izbá_, a peasant's hut without chimney.] + +"Oh! I did not tell you," rejoined Polózof. "I recently met Ilyin, the +brigade commander of uhlans. He is very anxious to see you; he is +passionately fond of your father." + +"I think that he is terrible trash, that Ilyin. But the worst is that all +these gentlemen who imagine that they knew my father in order to make +friends with me, insist upon telling me, as though it were very pleasant +for me to hear, about escapades of his that make me blush. It is true I am +not impulsive, and I look upon things dispassionately; while he was too +hot-spirited a man, and sometimes he played exceedingly reprehensible +tricks. However, that was all due to his time. In our day and generation, +maybe, he would have been a very sensible man, for he had tremendous +abilities; one must give him credit for that." + +In a quarter of an hour the servant returned, and brought an invitation for +them to come and spend the night at the mansion. + + +XI. + +As soon as Anna Fedorovna learned that the officer of hussars was the son +of Count Feódor Turbin, she was thrown into a great state of excitement. + +"Oh! great heavens![83] he is my darling! Danílo! run, hurry, tell them the +lady invites them to stay at her house," she cried, in great agitation, and +hastening to the servants' room. "Lízanka! Ustiushka! You must have your +room put in order, Liza. You can go into your uncle's room; and you, +brother,--brother, you can sleep to-night in the parlor. It's for only one +night." + +[Footnote 83: _bátiuzhki moï!_] + +"That's nothing, sister! I would sleep on the floor." + +"He must be a handsome fellow, I think, if he's like his father. Only let +me see him, the turtle-dove! You shall see for yourself, Liza. Ah! his +father was handsome! Where shall we put the table? Let it go there," said +Anna Fedorovna, running about here and there. "There now, bring in two +beds; get one from the overseer, and get from the _étagère_ the glass +candlestick which my brother gave me for my birthday, and put in a wax +candle." + +At last all was ready. Liza, in spite of her mother's interference, +arranged her room in her own way for the two officers. + +She brought out clean linen sheets, fragrant of mignonnette, and had the +beds made; she ordered a carafe of water and candles near it on the little +table. She burned scented paper in the girls' room, and moved her own +little bed into her uncle's chamber. + +Anna Fedorovna gradually became calm, and sat down again in her usual +place; she even took out her cards; but instead of shuffling them, she +leaned on her fat elbow, and gave herself up to her thoughts. + +"How time has gone! how time has gone!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "It is +long! long! isn't it? I seem to see him now! _Akh!_ he was a scamp!" + +And the tears came into her eyes. "Now here is Lízanka, but she isn't at +all what I was at her age. She is a nice girl; but no, not quite.... + +"Lízanka, you had better wear your mousselin-de-laine dress this evening." + +"But are you going to invite them down-stairs, mamasha? You had better not +do it," rejoined Liza, with a feeling of invincible agitation at the +thought of seeing the officers. "You had better not, mamasha!" + +In point of fact, she did not so much desire to see them, as she felt +apprehensive of some painful pleasure awaiting her, as it seemed to her. + +"Perhaps they themselves would like to make our acquaintance, Lízotchka," +said Anna Fedorovna, glancing at her daughter's hair, and at the same time +thinking, "No, not such hair as I had at her age. No, Lízotchka, how much I +could wish for you!" And she really wished something very excellent for her +daughter, but she could scarcely look forward to a match with the count; +she could not desire such a relationship as she herself had formed with his +father; but that something good would come of it, she wished very, very +much for her daughter. She possibly had the desire to live over again in +her daughter's happiness all the life which she lived with the late count. + +The old cavalryman was also somewhat excited by the count's coming. He went +to his room, and shut himself up in it. At the end of a quarter of an hour, +he re-appeared dressed in a Hungarian coat and blue pantaloons; and with a +troubled-happy expression of countenance, such as a girl wears when she +puts on her first ball-dress, he started for the room assigned to the +guests. + +"We shall have a glimpse of some of the hussars of to-day, sister. The late +count was indeed a genuine hussar. We shall see! we shall see!" + +The officers had by this time come in by the back entrance, and were in the +room that had been put at their service. + +"There now," said the count, stretching himself out in his dusty boots on +the bed which had just been made for him, "if we aren't better off here +than we were there in that hovel with the cockroaches!" + +"Better? of course; but think what obligations we are putting ourselves +under to the people here." + +"What rubbish! You must always be a practical man. They are mighty glad to +have us, of course. Fellow!" cried the count, "ask some one to put a +curtain up at this window, else there'll be a draught in the night." + +At this moment the old man came in to make the acquaintance of the +officers. Though he was somewhat confused, he did not fail to tell how he +had been a comrade of the late count's, who had been very congenial to him, +and he even went so far as to say that more than once he had been under +obligations to the late count. Whether he meant, in speaking of the +obligations to the late count, a reference to the hundred rubles which the +count had borrowed and never returned, or to his throwing him into the +snow-drift, or to the slap in the face, the old man failed to explain. + +However, the count was very urbane with the old cavalryman, and thanked him +for his hospitality. + +"You must excuse us if it is not very luxurious, count,"--he almost said +"your excellency," as he had got out of the habit of meeting with men of +rank. "My sister's house is rather small. As for the window here, we will +find something to serve as a curtain right away, and it will be +first-rate," added the little old man; and under the pretext of going for a +curtain, but really because he wanted to give his report about the officers +as quickly as possible, he left the room. The pretty little Ustiushka came, +bringing her mistress's shawl to serve as a curtain. She was also +commissioned to ask if the gentlemen would not like some tea. + +The cheerful hospitality had had a manifestly beneficent influence upon the +count's spirits. He laughed and jested with Ustiushka gayly, and went to +such lengths that she even called him a bad man; he asked her if her +mistress was pretty, and in reply to her question whether he would like +some tea, replied that she might please bring him some, but above all, as +his supper was not ready, he would like some vodka now, and a little lunch, +and some sherry if there was any. + +The old uncle was in raptures over the young count's politeness, and +praised to the skies the young generation of officers, saying that the men +of the present day were far preferable to those of the past. + +Anna Fedorovna could not agree to that,--no one could be any better than +Count Feódor Ivánovitch,--and she was beginning to grow seriously angry, +and remarked dryly, "For you, brother, the one who flatters you last is the +best! Without any question, the men of our time are better educated, but +still Feódor Ivánovitch could dance the schottische, and was so amiable +that everybody in his day, you might say, was stupid compared to him! only +he did not care for any one else beside me. Oh, certainly there were fine +men in the old time!" + +At this moment came the message requesting the vodka, the lunch, and the +sherry. + +"There now, just like you, brother! You never do things right. We ought to +have had supper prepared.... Liza, attend to it, that's my darling." + +Liza hastened to the storeroom for mushrooms and fresh cream butter, and +told the cook to prepare beef cutlets. + +"How much sherry is there? Haven't you any left, brother?" + +"No, sister; I never have had any." + +"What! no sherry? but what is it you drink in your tea?" + +"That is rum, Anna Fedorovna." + +"Isn't that the same thing? Give them some of that. It is all the same, +it'll make no difference. Or would it not be better to invite them down +here, brother? You know all about it. They would not be offended, I +imagine, would they?" + +The cavalryman assured her that he would answer for it that the count, in +his goodness of heart, would not decline, and that he would certainly bring +them. + +Anna Fedorovna went off to put on, for some reason or other, her gros-grain +dress and a new cap; but Liza was so busy that she had no time to take off +her pink gingham dress with wide sleeves. Moreover, she was terribly +wrought up; it seemed to her that something astonishing, like a very low +black cloud, was sweeping down upon her soul. + +This count-hussar, this handsome fellow, seemed to her an absolutely novel +and unexpected but beautiful creature. His character, his habits, his +words, it seemed to her, must be something extraordinary, such as had never +come into the range of her experience. All that he thought and said must be +bright and true; all that he did must be honorable; his whole appearance +must be beautiful. She could have no doubt of that. If he had demanded not +merely a lunch and sherry, but even a bath in spirits of salvia, she would +not have been surprised, she would not have blamed him, and she would have +been convinced that this was just and reasonable. + +The count immediately accepted when the cavalryman brought him his sister's +invitation; he combed his hair, put on his coat, and took his cigar-case. + +"Will you come?" he asked of Polózof. + +"Indeed we had better not go," replied the cornet; "_ils feront des frais +pour nous recevoir_." + +"Rubbish! it will make them happy. Besides, I have been making +inquiries ... there's a pretty daughter here.... Come along," said the +count in French. + +"_Je vous en prie, messieurs_," said the cavalryman, merely for the sake of +giving them to understand that he also could speak French, and understood +what the officers were saying. + + +XII. + +Liza, red in the face and with downcast eyes, was ostensibly occupied with +filling up the teapot, and did not dare to look at the officers as they +entered the room. + +Anna Fedorovna, on the contrary, briskly jumped up and bowed, and without +taking her eyes from the count's face began to talk to him, now finding an +extraordinary resemblance to his father, now presenting her daughter, now +offering him tea, meats, or jelly-cakes. + +No one paid any attention to the cornet, thanks to his modest behavior; and +he was very glad of it, because it gave him a chance, within the limits of +propriety, to observe and study the details of Liza's beauty, which had +evidently come over him with the force of a surprise. + +The uncle listening to his sister's conversation had a speech ready on his +lips, and was waiting for a chance to relate his cavalry experiences. + +The count smoked his cigar over his tea, so that Liza had great difficulty +in refraining from coughing, but he was very talkative and amiable; at +first, in the infrequent pauses of Anna Fedorovna's conversation, he +introduced his own stories, and finally he took the conversation into his +own hands. + +One thing struck his listeners as rather strange: in his talk he often used +words, which, though not considered reprehensible in his own set, were +here rather audacious, so that Anna Fedorovna was a little abashed, and +Liza blushed to the roots of her hair. But this the count did not notice, +and continued to be just as natural and amiable as ever. + +Liza filled the glasses in silence, not putting them into the hands of the +guests, but pushing them toward them; she had not entirely recovered from +her agitation, but listened eagerly to the count's anecdotes. + +The count's pointless tales, and the pauses in the conversation, gradually +re-assured her. The bright things that she had expected from him were not +forthcoming, nor did she find in him that surpassing elegance for which she +had confusedly hoped. Even as soon as the third glass of tea, when her +timid eyes once encountered his, and he did not avoid them, but continued +almost too boldly to stare at her, with a lurking smile, she became +conscious of a certain feeling of hostility against him; and she soon +discovered that there was not only nothing out of the ordinary in him, but +that he was very little different from those whom she had already seen; in +fact, that there was no reason to be afraid of him. She noticed that he had +long and neat finger-nails, but otherwise there was no mark of special +beauty about him. + +Liza suddenly, not without some inward sorrow, renouncing her dream, +regained her self-possession; and only the undemonstrative cornet's glance, +which she felt fixed upon her, disquieted her. + +"Perhaps it is not the count, but the other," she said to herself. + + +XIII. + +After tea, the old lady invited her guests into the other room, and again +sat down in her usual place. "But perhaps you would like to rest, count?" +she asked. "Well, then, what would you like to amuse yourselves with, my +dear guests?" she proceeded to ask after she had been assured to the +contrary. "You play cards, do you not, count?--Here, brother, you might +take a hand in some game or other."... + +"Why, you yourself can play _préférence_," replied the cavalryman. "You had +better take a hand, then. The count will play, will he not? And you?" + +The officers were agreeable to every thing that might satisfy their amiable +hosts. + +Liza brought from her room her old cards which she used for divining +whether her mother would speedily recover of a cold, or whether her uncle +would return on such and such a day from the city if he chanced to have +gone there, or whether her neighbor would be in during the day, and other +like things. These cards, though they had been in use for two months, were +less soiled than those which Anna Fedorovna used for the same purpose. + +"Perhaps you are not accustomed to playing for small stakes," suggested the +uncle. "Anna Fedorovna and I play for half-kopeks, and then she always gets +the better of all of us." + +"Ah! make your own arrangements. I shall be perfectly satisfied," said the +count. + +"Well, then, be it in paper kopeks for the sake of our dear guests; only +let me gain, as I am old," said Anna Fedorovna, settling herself in her +chair, and adjusting her mantilla. "Maybe I shall win a ruble of them," +thought Anna Fedorovna, who in her old age felt a little passion for cards. + +"If you would like, I will teach you to play with tablets," said the count, +"and with the _miséries_. It is very jolly." + +Everybody was delighted with this new Petersburg fashion. The uncle went so +far as to assert that he knew it, and that it was just the same thing as +_boston_, but that he had forgotten somewhat about it. + +Anna Fedorovna did not comprehend it at all; and it took her so long to get +into it, that she felt under the necessity of smiling and nodding her head +assuringly, to give the impression that she now understood, and that now it +was all perfectly clear to her. But there was no little amusement created +when in the midst of the game Anna Fedorovna, with ace and king blank, +called "_misérie_," and remained with the six. She even began to grow +confused, smiled timidly, and hastened to assure them that she had not as +yet become accustomed to the new way. + +Nevertheless they put down the points against her, and many of them too; +the more because the count, through his practice of playing on large +stakes, played carefully, led very prudently, and never at all understood +what the cornet meant by sundry raps with his foot under the table, or why +he made such stupid blunders in playing. + +Liza brought in more jelly-cakes, three kinds of preserves, and apples +cooked in some manner with port-wine; and then, standing behind her +mother's chair, she looked on at the game, and occasionally watched the +officers, and especially the count's white hands with their delicate long +finger-nails, as he with such skill, assurance, and grace, threw the cards, +and took the tricks. + +Once more Anna Fedorovna, with some show of temper going beyond the others, +bid as high as seven, and lost three points; and when, at her brother's +instigation, she tried to make some calculation, she found herself utterly +confused and off the track. + +"It's nothing, mamasha; you'll win it back again," said Liza, with a smile, +anxious to rescue her mother from her ridiculous position. "Some time +you'll put a fine on uncle: then he will be caught." + +"But you might help me, Lízotchka," cried Anna Fedorovna, looking with an +expression of dismay at her daughter; "I don't know how this".... + +"But I don't know how to play this either," rejoined Liza, carefully +calculating her mother's losses. "But if you go on at this rate, mamasha, +you will lose a good deal, and Pímotchka will not have her new dress," she +added in jest. + +"Yes, in this way it is quite possible to lose ten silver rubles," said the +cornet, looking at Liza, and anxious to draw her into conversation. + +"Aren't we playing for paper money?" asked Anna Fedorovna, gazing round at +the rest. + +"I don't know, I am sure," replied the count. "But I don't know how to +reckon in bank-notes. What are they? what do you mean by bank-notes?"[84] + +[Footnote 84: _Assignatsii._] + +"Why, no one nowadays reckons in bank-notes," explained the cavalryman, who +was playing like a hero and was on the winning side. + +The old lady ordered some sparkling wine, drank two glasses herself, grew +quite flushed, and seemed to abandon all hope. One braid of her gray hair +escaped from under her cap, and she did not even put it up. It was evident +that she thought herself losing millions, and that she was entirely ruined. +The cornet kept nudging the count's leg more and more emphatically. The +count was noting down the old lady's losses. + +At last the game came to an end. In spite of Anna Fedorovna's efforts to +bring her reckoning higher than it should be, and to pretend that she had +been cheated in her account, and that it could not be correct, in spite of +her dismay at the magnitude of her losses, at last the account was made +out, and she was found to have lost nine hundred and twenty points. + +"Isn't that equal to nine paper rubles?" she asked again and again; and she +did not begin to realize how great her forfeit was, until her brother, to +her horror, explained that she was "out" thirty-two and a half paper +rubles, and that it was absolutely necessary for her to pay it. + +The count did not even sum up his gains, but, as soon as the game was over, +arose and went over to the window where Liza was arranging the lunch, and +putting potted mushrooms on a plate. There he did with perfect calmness and +naturalness what the cornet had been anxious and yet unable to effect all +the evening,--he engaged her in conversation about the weather. + +The cornet at this time was brought into a thoroughly unpleasant +predicament. Anna Fedorovna, in the absence of the count and Liza, who had +managed to keep her in a jovial frame of mind, became really angry. + +"Indeed, it is too bad that we have caused you to lose so heavily," said +Polózof, in order to say something. "It is simply shameful." + +"I should think these tablets and _miséries_ were something of your own +invention. I don't know any thing about them. How many paper rubles does +the whole amount to?" she demanded. + +"Thirty-two rubles, thirty-two and a half," insisted the cavalryman, who, +from the effect of having been on the winning side, was in a very waggish +frame of mind. "Give him the money, sister.... Give it to him." + +"I will give all I owe, only you must not ask for any more. No, I shall +never win it back in my life." + +And Anna Fedorovna went to her room, all in excitement, hurried back, and +brought nine paper rubles. Only on the old man's strenuous insistence she +was induced to pay the whole sum. Polózof had some fear that the old lady +would pour out on him the vials of her wrath if he entered into +conversation with her. He silently, without attracting attention, turned +away, and rejoined the count and Liza, who were talking at the open window. + +On the table, which was now spread for the supper, stood two tallow +candles, whose flame occasionally flickered in the gentle breeze of the +mild May night. Through the window opening into the garden came a very +different light from that which filled the room. The moon, almost at its +full, already beginning to lose its golden radiance, was pouring over the +tops of the lofty lindens, and making brighter and brighter the delicate +fleecy clouds that occasionally overcast it. + +From the pond, the surface of which, silvered in one place by the moon, +could be seen through the trees, came the voices of the frogs. In the +sweet-scented lilac-bush under the very window, which from time to time +slowly shook its heavy-laden blossoms, birds were darting and fluttering. + +"What marvellous weather!" said the count, as he joined Liza, and sat down +in the low window-seat. "I suppose you go to walk a good deal, don't you?" + +"Yes," rejoined Liza, not experiencing the slightest embarrassment in the +count's company. "Every morning, at seven o'clock, I make the tour of the +estate, and sometimes I take a walk with Pímotchka,--mamma's _protégée_." + +"It's pleasant living in the country," cried the count, putting his monocle +to his eye, and gazing first at the garden, and then at Liza. "But don't +you like to take a walk on moonlight nights?" + +"No. Three years ago my uncle and I used to go out walking every moonlight +night. He had some sort of strange illness,--insomnia. Whenever there was a +full moon, he could not sleep. His room like this opens into the garden, +and the window is low. The moon shines right into it." + +"Strange," remarked the count. "Then this is your room." + +"No, I only sleep there for this one night. You occupy my room." + +"Is it possible? ... oh, good heavens![85] I shall never in the world +forgive myself for the trouble that I have caused," said the count, casting +the monocle from his eye as a sign of sincerity.... "If I had only known +that I was going to".... + +[Footnote 85: _Akh! Bozhe moï!_] + +"How much trouble was it? On the contrary, I am very glad. My uncle's room +is so nice and jolly: there's a low window there. I shall sit down in it +before I go to bed, or perhaps I shall go down, out into the garden, and +take a little walk." + +"What a glorious girl!" said the count to himself, replacing the monocle, +and staring at her, and while pretending to change his seat in the window, +trying to touch her foot with his. "And how shrewdly she gave me to +understand that I might meet her in the garden at the window, if I would +come down!" + +Liza even lost in the count's eyes a large share of her charm, so easy did +the conquest of her seem to him. + +"And how blissful it must be," said the count dreamily, gazing into the +shadow-haunted alley, "to spend such a night in the garden with the object +of one's love!" + +Liza was somewhat abashed by these words, and by a second evidently +deliberate pressure upon her foot. Before she thought, she made some reply +for the sake of dissimulating her embarrassment. + +She said, "Yes, it is splendid to walk in the moonlight." + +There was something disagreeable about the whole conversation. She put the +cover on the jar from which she had been taking the mushrooms, and was just +turning from the window, when the cornet came toward her, and she felt a +curiosity to know what kind of a man he was. + +"What a lovely night!" said he. + +"They can only talk about the weather," thought Liza. + +"What a wonderful view!" continued the cornet, "only I should think it +would be tiresome," he added through a strange propensity, peculiar to him, +of saying things sure to offend the people who pleased him very much. + +"Why should you think so? Always the same cooking and always the same dress +might become tiresome; but a lovely garden can never be tiresome when you +enjoy walking, and especially when there's a moon rising higher and higher. +From my uncle's room you can see the whole pond. I shall see it from there +to-night." + +"And you haven't any nightingales at all, have you?" asked the count, +greatly put out, because Polózof had come and prevented him from learning +the exact conditions of the rendezvous. + +"Oh, yes, we always have them; last year the hunters caught one; and last +week there was one that sang beautifully, but the district inspector[86] +came along with his bells, and scared him away.... Three years ago my uncle +and I used to sit out in the covered alley, and listen to one for two hours +at a time." + +[Footnote 86: _stanovói._] + +"What is this chatterbox telling you about?" inquired the old uncle, +joining the trio. "Aren't you ready for something to eat?" + +At supper, the count by his reiterated praise of the viands, and his +appetite, succeeded somewhat in pacifying Anna Fedorovna's unhappy state of +mind. Afterwards the officers made their adieux, and went to their room. +The count shook hands with the old cavalier, and, to Anna Fedorovna's +surprise, with her, without offering to kiss her hand; and he also squeezed +Liza's hand, at the same time looking straight into her eyes, and craftily +smiling his pleasing smile. This glance again somewhat disconcerted the +maiden. "He is very handsome," she said to herself, "only he is quite too +conceited." + + +XIV. + +"Well, now, aren't you ashamed?" exclaimed Polózof, when the two officers +had reached the privacy of their chamber. "I tried to lose, and I kept +nudging you under the table. Now aren't you really ashamed? The poor old +lady was quite beside herself." + +The count burst into a terrible fit of laughter. + +"A most amusing dame! How abused she felt!" + +And again he began to laugh so heartily that even Johann, who was standing +in front of him, cast down his eyes to conceal a smile. "And here is the +son of an old family friend! Ha, ha, ha!" continued the count in a gale of +laughter. + +"No, indeed, it is not right. I felt really sorry for her," said the +cornet. + +"What rubbish! How young you are! What! did you think that I was going to +lose? Why should I lose? I only lose when I don't know any better. Ten +rubles, brother, will come in handy. You must look on life in a practical +way, or else you will always be a fool." + +Polózof made no answer: in the first place, he wanted to think by himself +about Liza, who seemed to him to be an extraordinarily pure and beautiful +creature. + +He undressed, and lay down on the clean soft bed which had been made ready +for him. + +"How absurd all these honors and the glory of war!" he thought to himself, +gazing at the window shaded by the shawl, through the interstices of which +crept the pale rays of the moon. "Here is happiness--to live in a quiet +nook, with a gentle, bright, simple-hearted wife; that is enduring, true +happiness." + +But somehow he did not communicate these imaginations to his friend; and he +did not even speak of the rustic maiden, though he felt sure that the count +was also thinking about her. + +"Why don't you undress?" he demanded of the count, who was walking up and +down the room. + +"Oh, I don't feel like sleeping! Put out the candle if you like," said he. +"I can undress in the dark." + +And he continued to walk up and down. + +"He does not feel sleepy," repeated Polózof, who after the evening's +experiences felt more than ever dissatisfied with the count's influence +upon him, and disposed to revolt against it. "I imagine," he reasoned, +mentally addressing Turbin, "what thoughts are now trooping through that +well-combed head of yours. And I saw how she pleased you. But you are not +the kind to appreciate that simple-hearted, pure-minded creature. Mina is +the one for you, you want the epaulets of a colonel.--Indeed, I have a mind +to ask him how he liked her." + +And Polózof was about to address him, but he deliberated: he felt that not +only he was not in the right frame of mind to discuss with him if the +count's glance at Liza was what he interpreted it to be, but that he should +not have the force of mind necessary for him to disagree with him, so +accustomed was he to submit to an influence which for him grew each day +more burdensome and unrighteous. + +"Where are you going?" he asked, as the count took his cap and went to the +door. + +"I am going to the stable; I wish to see if every thing is all right." + +"Strange!" thought the cornet; but he blew out the candle, and, trying to +dispel the absurdly jealous and hostile thoughts that arose against his +former friend, he turned over on the other side. + +Anna Fedorovna meantime, having crossed herself, and kissed her brother, +her daughter, and her _protégée_, as affectionately as usual, also retired +to her room. + +Long had it been since the old lady had experienced in a single day so many +powerful sensations. She could not even say her prayers in tranquillity; +all the melancholy but vivid remembrances of the late count, and of this +young dandy who had so ruthlessly taken advantage of her, kept coming up in +her mind. + +Nevertheless she undressed as usual, and drank a half glass of kvas which +stood ready on the little table near the bed, and lay down. Her beloved cat +came softly into the room. Anna Fedorovna called her, and began to stroke +her fur, and listen to her purring; but still she could not go to sleep. + +"It is the cat that disturbs me," she said to herself, and pushed her away. +The cat fell to the floor softly, and, slowly waving her bushy tail, got +upon the oven;[87] and then the maid, who slept in the room on the floor, +brought her felt, and put out the candle, after lighting the night-lamp. + +[Footnote 87: The _lezhanka_, a part of the oven built out as a sort of +couch.] + +At last the maid began to snore; but sleep still refused to come to Anna +Fedorovna, and calm her excited imagination. The face of the hussar +constantly arose before her mental vision, when she shut her eyes; and it +seemed to her that it appeared in various strange guises in her room, when +she opened her eyes and looked at the commode, at the table, and her white +raiment hanging up in the feeble light of the night-lamp. Then it seemed +hot to her in the feather-bed, and the ticking of the watch on the table +seemed unendurable; exasperating to the last degree, the snoring of the +maid. She wakened her, and bade her cease snoring. + +Again the thoughts of the old count and of the young count, and of the game +of _préférence_, became strangely mixed in her mind. Now she seemed to see +herself waltzing with the former count; she saw her own round white +shoulders, she felt on them some one's kisses, and then she saw her +daughter in the young count's embrace. + +Once more Ustiushka began to snore.... + +"No, it's somehow different now, the men aren't the same. _He_ was ready to +fling himself into the fire for my sake. Yes, I was worth doing it for! But +this one, have no fear, is sound asleep like a goose, instead of wooing. +How his father fell on his knees, and said, 'Whatever you desire I will do, +I could kill myself in a moment; what do you desire?' And he would have +killed himself, if I had bade him!"... + +Suddenly the sound of bare feet was heard in the corridor; and Liza with a +shawl thrown over her came in pale and trembling, and almost fell on her +mother's bed.... + +After saying good-night to her mother, Liza had gone alone to the room that +had been her uncle's. Putting on a white jacket, throwing a handkerchief +round her thick long braids, she put out the light, opened the window, and +curled up in a chair, turning her dreamy eyes to the pond which was now all +shining with silver brilliancy. + +All her ordinary occupations and interests came up before her now in an +entirely different light. Her capricious old mother, unreasoning love for +whom had become a part of her very soul, her feeble but amiable old uncle, +the domestics, the peasants who worshipped their young mistress, the milch +cows and the calves; all this nature which was forever the same in its +continual death and resurrection, amid which she had grown up, with love +for others, and with the love of others for her,--all this that gave her +that gentle, agreeable peace of mind,--suddenly seemed to her something +different; it all seemed to her dismal, superfluous. + +It was as though some one said to her, "Fool, fool! For twenty years you +have been occupied in trivialities, you have been serving others without +reason, and you have not known what life, what happiness, were!" + +This was what she thought now as she gazed down into the depths of the +motionless moonlit garden, and the thought came over her with vastly more +force than ever before. And what was it that induced this train of thought? +It was not in the least a sudden love for the count, as might easily be +supposed. On the contrary, he did not please her. It might rather have been +the cornet of whom she was thinking; but he was homely, poor, and taciturn. + +"No, it isn't that," she said to herself. + +Her ideal was so charming! It was an ideal which might have been loved in +the midst of this night, in the midst of this nature, without infringing +its supernal beauty; an ideal not in the least circumscribed by the +necessity of reducing it to coarse reality. + +In days gone by, her lonely situation, and the absence of people who might +have attracted her, caused that all the strength of the love which +Providence has implanted impartially in the hearts of each one of us, was +still intact and potential in her soul. But now she had been living too +long with the pathetic happiness of feeling that she possessed in her heart +this something, and occasionally opening the mysterious chalice of her +heart, of rejoicing in the contemplation of its riches, ready to pour out +without stint on some one all that it contained. + +God grant that she may not have to take this melancholy delight with her to +the tomb! But who knows if there be any better and more powerful delight, +or if it is not the only true and possible one? + +"O Father in heaven," she thought, "is it possible that I have lost my +youth and my happiness, and that they will never return?... Will they never +return again? is it really true?" + +She gazed in the direction of the moon at the bright far-off sky, studded +with white wavy clouds, which, as they swept on toward the moon, blotted +out the little stars. + +"If the moon should seize that little cloud above it, then it means that it +is true," she thought. A thin smoke-like strip of cloud passed over the +lower half of the brilliant orb, and gradually the light grew fainter on +the turf, on the linden tops, on the pond: the black shadows of the trees +grew less distinct. And as though to harmonize with the gloomy shade which +was enveloping nature, a gentle breeze stirred through the leaves, and +brought to the window the dewy fragrance of the leaves, the moist earth, +and the blooming lilacs. + +"No, it is not true!" she said, trying to console herself; "but if the +nightingale should sing this night, then I should take it to mean that all +my forebodings are nonsense, and that there is no need of losing hope." + +And long she sat in silence, as though expecting some one, while once more +all grew bright and full of life; and then again and again the clouds +passed over the moon, and all became sombre. + +She was even beginning to grow drowsy, as she sat there by the window, when +she was aroused by the nightingale's melodious trills clearly echoing +across the pond. The rustic maiden opened her eyes. Once more, with a new +enjoyment, her whole soul was dedicated to that mysterious union with the +nature which so calmly and serenely spread out before her. + +She leaned on both elbows. A certain haunting sensation of gentle +melancholy oppressed her heart; and tears of pure, deep love, burning for +satisfaction, good consoling tears, sprang to her eyes. + +She leaned her arms on the window-sill, and rested her head upon them. Her +favorite prayer seemed of its own accord to arise in her soul, and thus she +fell asleep with moist eyes. + +The pressure of some one's hand awakened her. She started up. But the touch +was gentle and pleasant. The hand squeezed hers with a stronger pressure. + +Suddenly she realized the true state of things, screamed, tore herself +away; and trying to make herself believe that it was not the count who, +bathed in the brilliant moonlight, was standing in front of her window, she +hastened from the room. + + +XV. + +It was indeed the count. When he heard the maiden's cry, and the cough of +the watchman who was coming from the other side of the fence in reply to +the shriek, he had the sensation of being a thief caught in the act, and +started to run across the dew-drenched grass, so as to hide in the depths +of the garden. + +"Oh, what a fool I was!" he said instinctively. "I frightened her. I ought +to have been more gentle, to have wakened her by gentle words. Oh! I am a +beast, a blundering beast." + +He paused and listened. The watchman had come through the wicket-gate into +the garden, dragging his cane along the sanded walk. + +He must hide. He went toward the pond. The frogs made him tremble as they +hastily sprang from under his very feet into the water. There, +notwithstanding his wet feet, he crouched down on his heels, and, began to +recall all he had done,--how he had crept through the hedge, found her +window, and at last caught a glimpse of a white shadow; how several times, +while on the watch for the least noise, he had hastened away from the +window; how at one moment it seemed to him that doubtless she was waiting +for him with vexation in her heart that he was so dilatory, and the next +how impossible it seemed that she would make an appointment with him so +easily; and how, finally coming to the conclusion, that, through the +embarrassment naturally felt by a country maiden, she was only pretending +to be asleep, he had resolutely gone up to the window, and seen clearly her +position, and then suddenly, for some occult reason, had run away again; +and only after a powerful effort of self-control, being ashamed of his +cowardice, he had gone boldly up to her and touched her on the hand. + +The watchman again coughed, and, shutting the squeaky gate, went out of the +garden. The window in the young girl's room was shut, and the wooden +shutters inside were drawn. + +The count was terribly disappointed to see this. He would have given a good +deal to have a chance to begin it all over again; he would not have acted +so stupidly. + +"A marvellous girl! what freshness! simply charming! And so I lost her. +Stupid beast that I was." + +However, as he was not in the mood to go to sleep yet, he walked, as chance +should lead, along the path, through the linden alley, with the resolute +steps of a man who has been angry. And now for him also this night brought, +as its gifts of reconciliation, a strange, calming melancholy, and a +craving for love. + +The clay path, here and there dotted with sprouting grass or dry twigs, was +lighted by patches of pale light where the moon sent its rays straight +through the thick foliage of the lindens. Here and there a bending bough, +apparently overgrown with gray moss, gleamed on one side. The silvered +foliage occasionally rustled. + +At the house there was no light in the windows; all sounds were hushed, +only the nightingale filled with his song all the immensity of silent and +glorious space. + +"My God! what a night! what a marvellous night!" thought the count, +breathing in the fresh fragrance of the garden. "Something makes me feel +blue, as though I were dissatisfied with myself and with others, and +dissatisfied with my whole life. But what a splendid, dear girl! Perhaps +she was really offended." Here his fancies changed. He imagined himself +there in the garden with this district maiden in various and most +remarkable situations; then his mistress Mina supplanted the maiden's +place. + +"What a fool I am! I ought simply to have put my arm around her waist, and +kissed her." + +And with this regret the count returned to his room. The cornet was not yet +asleep. He immediately turned over in bed, and looked at the count. + +"Aren't you asleep?" asked the count. + +"No." + +"Shall I tell you what happened?" + +"Well." + +"No, I'd better not tell you.... Yes, I will too. Move your legs over a +little." + +And the count, who had already given up vain regret for his unsuccessful +intrigue, sat down with a gay smile on his comrade's bed. "Could you +imagine that the young lady of the house gave me a rendezvous?" + +"What is that you say?" screamed Polózof, leaping up in bed. + +"Well, now listen." + +"But how? When? It can't be!" + +"See here: while you were making out your accounts in _préférence_, she +told me that she would this night be sitting at the window, and that it was +possible to get in at that window. Now, this is what it means to be a +practical man: while you were there reckoning up with the old woman, I was +arranging this little affair. You yourself heard her say right out in your +presence, that she was going to sit at the window to-night, and look at +the pond." + +"Yes, but she said that without any meaning in it." + +"I am not so sure whether she said it purposely or otherwise. Maybe she did +not wish to come at it all at once, only it looked like that. But a +wretched piece of work came out of it. Like a perfect fool I spoilt the +whole thing," he added, scornfully smiling at himself. + +"Well, what is it? Where have you been?" + +The count told him the whole story, with the exception of his irresolute +and repeated advances. "I spoilt it myself; I ought to have been bolder. +She screamed, and ran away from the window." + +"Then she screamed and ran away?" repeated the cornet, replying with a +constrained smile to the count's smile, which had such a long and powerful +influence upon him. + +"Yes, but now it's time to go to sleep." + +Polózof again turned his back to the door, and lay in silence for ten +minutes. God knows what was going on in his soul; but when he turned over +again, his face was full of passion and resolution. + +"Count Turbin," said he in a broken voice. + +"Are you dreaming, or not?" replied the count calmly. "What is it, cornet +Polózof?" + +"Count Turbin, you are a scoundrel," cried Polózof, and he sprang from the +bed. + + +XVI. + +The next day the battalion departed. The officers did not see any of the +household, or bid them farewell. Neither did they speak together. + +It was understood that they were to fight their duel when they came to the +next halting-place. But Captain Schultz, a good comrade, an admirable +horseman, who was loved by everybody in the regiment, and had been chosen +by the count for his second, succeeded in arranging the affair in such a +manner that not only they did not fight, but that no one in the regiment +knew about the matter; and Turbin and Polózof, though their old relations +of friendship were never restored, still said "thou," and met at meals and +at the gaming-table. + + + + +THREE DEATHS + +_A TALE._ + +1859. + + +I. + +It was autumn. + +Along the highway came two equipages at a brisk pace. In the first carriage +sat two women. One was a lady, thin and pale. The other, her maid, with a +brilliant red complexion, and plump. Her short, dry locks escaped from +under a faded cap; her red hand, in a torn glove, put them back with a +jerk. Her full bosom, incased in a tapestry shawl, breathed of health; her +restless black eyes now gazed through the window at the fields hurrying by +them, now rested on her mistress, now peered solicitously into the corners +of the coach. + +Before the maid's face swung the lady's bonnet on the rack; on her knees +lay a puppy; her feet were raised by packages lying on the floor, and could +almost be heard drumming upon them above the noise of the creaking of the +springs, and the rattling of the windows. + +The lady, with her hands resting in her lap and her eyes shut, feebly +swayed on the cushions which supported her back, and, slightly frowning, +struggled with a cough. + +She wore a white nightcap, and a blue neckerchief twisted around her +delicate pale neck. A straight line, disappearing under the cap, parted her +blonde hair, which was smoothly pomaded; and there was a dry, deathly +appearance about the whiteness of the skin in this simple parting. The +withered and rather sallow skin was loosely drawn over her delicate and +pretty features, and there was a hectic flush on the cheeks and +cheek-bones. Her lips were dry and restless, her thin eyelashes had lost +their curve, and a cloth travelling capote made straight folds over her +sunken chest. Although her eyes were closed, her face gave the impression +of weariness, irascibility, and habitual suffering. + +The lackey, leaning back, was napping on the coach-box. The hired +driver,[88] shouting in a clear voice, urged on his four powerful and +sweaty horses, occasionally looking back at the other driver, who was +shouting just behind them in an open barouche. The tires of the wheels, in +their even and rapid course, left wide parallel tracks on the limy mud of +the highway. + +[Footnote 88: _yamshchik._] + +The sky was gray and cold, a moist mist was falling over the fields and the +road. It was suffocating in the carriage, and smelt of eau-de-cologne and +dust. The invalid leaned back her head, and slowly opened her eyes. Her +great eyes were brilliant, and of a beautiful dark color. "Again!" said +she, nervously pushing away with her beautiful attenuated hand the end of +her maid's cloak, which occasionally hit against her knee. Her mouth +contracted painfully. + +Matriósha raised her cloak in both hands, lifting herself up on her strong +legs, and then sat down again, farther away. Her fresh face was suffused +with a brilliant scarlet. + +The invalid's handsome dark eyes eagerly followed the maid's motions; and +then with both hands she took hold of the seat, and did her best to raise +herself a little higher, but her strength was not sufficient. + +Again her mouth became contracted, and her whole face took on an expression +of unavailing, angry irony. + +"If you would only help me.... Ah! It's not necessary. I can do it myself. +Only have the goodness not to put those pillows behind me.... On the whole, +you had better not touch them, if you don't understand!" + +The lady closed her eyes, and then again, quickly raising the lids, gazed +at her maid. + +Matriósha looked at her, and gnawed her red lower lip. A heavy sigh escaped +from the sick woman's breast; but the sigh was not ended, but was merged in +a fit of coughing. She scowled, and turned her face away, clutching her +chest with both hands. When the coughing fit was over, she once more shut +her eyes, and continued to sit motionless. The coach and the barouche +rolled into the village. Matriósha drew her fat hand from under her shawl, +and made the sign of the cross. + +"What is this?" demanded the lady. + +"A post-station, madame." + +"Why did you cross yourself, I should like to know?" + +"The church, madame." + +The lady looked out of the window, and began slowly to cross herself, +gazing with all her eyes at the great village church, in front of which the +invalid's carriage was now passing. + +The two vehicles came to a stop together at the post-house. The sick +woman's husband and the doctor dismounted from the barouche, and came to +the coach. + +"How are you feeling?" asked the doctor, taking her pulse. + +"Well, my dear, aren't you fatigued?" asked the husband, in French. +"Wouldn't you like to go out?" + +Matriósha, gathering up the bundles, squeezed herself into the corner, so +as not to interfere with the conversation. + +"No matter, it's all the same thing," replied the invalid. "I will not get +out." + +The husband, after standing there a little while, went into the post-house. +Matriósha, jumping from the carriage, tiptoed across the muddy road, into +the enclosure. + +"If I am miserable, there is no reason why the rest of you should not have +breakfast," said the sick woman, smiling faintly to the doctor, who was +standing by her window. + +"It makes no difference to them how I am," she remarked to herself as the +doctor, turning from her with slow step, started to run up the steps of the +station-house. "They are well, and it's all the same to them. O my God!" + +"How now, Eduard Ivánovitch," said the husband, as he met the doctor, and +rubbing his hands with a gay smile. "I have ordered my travelling-case +brought; what do you say to that?" + +"That's worth while," replied the doctor. + +"Well now, how about _her_?" asked the husband with a sigh, lowering his +voice and raising his brows. + +"I have told you that she cannot reach Moscow, much less Italy, especially +in such weather." + +"What is to be done, then? Oh! my God! my God!" + +The husband covered his eyes with his hand.... "Give it here," he added, +addressing his man, who came bringing the travelling-case. + +"You'll have to stop somewhere on the route," replied the doctor, shrugging +his shoulders. + +"But tell me, how can that be done?" rejoined the husband. "I have done +every thing to keep her from going: I have spoken to her of our means, and +of our children whom we should have to leave behind, and of my business. +She would not hear a word. She has made her plans for living abroad, as +though she were well. But if I should tell her what her real condition is, +it would kill her." + +"Well, she is a dead woman now: you may as well know it, Vasíli Dmítritch. +A person cannot live without lungs, and there is no way of making lungs +grow again. It is melancholy, it is hard, but what is to be done about it? +It is my business and yours to make her last days as easy as possible. It +is the confessor that is needed here." + +"Oh, my God! Now just perceive how I am situated, in speaking to her of her +last will. Let come whatever may, yet I cannot speak of that. And yet you +know how good she is." + +"Try at least to persuade her to wait until the roads are frozen," said the +doctor, shaking his head significantly: "something might happen during the +journey." + + * * * * * + +"Aksiúsha, oh, Aksiúsha!" cried the superintendent's daughter, throwing a +cloak over her head and tiptoeing down the muddy back steps. "Come along. +Let us have a look at the Shirkínskaya lady: they say she's got +lung-trouble, and they're taking her abroad. I never saw how any one looked +in consumption." + +Aksiúsha jumped down from the door-sill; and the two girls, hand in hand, +hurried out of the gates. Shortening their steps, they walked by the coach, +and stared in at the lowered window. The invalid bent her head toward them; +but when she saw their inquisitiveness, she frowned and turned away. + +"Oh, de-e-ar!" said the superintendent's daughter, vigorously shaking her +head.... "How wonderfully pretty she used to be, and how she has changed! +It is terrible! Did you see? Did you see, Aksiúsha?" + +"Yes, but how thin she is!" assented Aksiúsha. "Let us go by and look +again; we'll make believe go to the well. Did you see, she turned away from +us; still I got a good view of her. Isn't it too bad, Masha?" + +"Yes, but what terrible mud!" replied Masha, and both of them started to +run back within the gates. + +"It's evident that I have become a fright," thought the sick woman.... "But +we must hurry, hurry, and get abroad, and there I shall soon get well." + +"Well, and how are you, my dear?" inquired the husband, coming to the +carriage with still a morsel of something in his mouth. + +"Always one and the same question," thought the sick woman, "and he's even +eating!" + +"It's no consequence," she murmured between her teeth. + +"Do you know, my dear, I am afraid that this journey in such weather will +only make you worse. Eduard Ivánovitch says the same thing. Hadn't we +better turn back?" + +She maintained an angry silence. + +"The weather will improve maybe, the roads will become good, and that would +be better for you; then at least we could start all together." + +"Pardon me. If I had not listened to you so long, I should at this moment +be at Berlin and have entirely recovered." + +"What's to be done, my angel? it was impossible, as you know. But now if +you would wait a month, you would be ever so much better; I could finish up +my business, and we could take the children with us." + +"The children are well, and I am ill." + +"But just see here, my love, if in this weather you should grow worse on +the road.... At least we should be at home." + +"What is the use of being at home?... _Die_ at home?" replied the invalid +peevishly. + +But the word _die_ evidently startled her, and she turned upon her husband +a supplicating and inquiring look. He dropped his eyes, and said nothing. + +The sick woman's mouth suddenly contracted in a childish fashion, and the +tears sprang to her eyes. Her husband covered his face with his +handkerchief, and silently turned from the carriage. + +"No, I will go," cried the invalid; and lifting her eyes to the sky, she +clasped her hands, and began to whisper incoherent words. "My God! why must +it be?" she said, and the tears flowed more violently. She prayed long and +fervently, but still there was just the same sense of constriction and pain +in her chest, just the same gray melancholy in the sky and the fields and +the road; just the same autumnal mist, neither thicker nor more tenuous, +but ever the same in its monotony, falling on the muddy highway, on the +roofs, on the carriage, and on the sheep-skin coats of the drivers, who +were talking in strong, gay voices, as they were oiling and adjusting the +carriage. + + +II. + +The coach was ready, but the driver loitered. He had gone into the driver's +cottage,[89] where it was warm, close, dark, and suffocating; smelling of +human occupation, of cooking bread, of cabbage, and of sheep-skin garments. + +[Footnote 89: _izbá._] + +Several drivers were in the room; the cook was engaged near the oven, on +top of which lay a sick man wrapped up in pelts. + +"Uncle Khveódor! hey! Uncle Khveódor," called a young man, the driver, in a +tulup, and with his knout in his belt, coming into the room, and addressing +the sick man. + +"What do you want, rattlepate? What are you calling to Fyédka[90] for?" +demanded one of the drivers. "There's your carriage waiting for you." + +[Footnote 90: Fyédka and Fyédya are diminutives of Feódor, Theodore.] + +"I want to borrow his boots. Mine are worn out," replied the young fellow, +tossing back his curls and straightening his mittens in his belt. "Why? is +he asleep? Say, Uncle Khveódor!" he insisted, going to the oven. + +"What is it?" a weak voice was heard saying, and a blowsy, emaciated face +was lifted up from the oven. + +A broad, gaunt hand, bloodless and covered with hairs, pulled up his +overcoat over the dirty shirt that covered his bony shoulder. "Give me +something to drink, brother; what is it you want?" + +The young fellow handed him a small dish of water. + +"I say, Fyédya," said he, hesitating, "I reckon you won't want your new +boots now; let me have them? Probably you won't need them any more." + +The sick man dropping his weary head down to the lacquered bowl, and +dipping his thin, hanging mustache in the brown water, drank feebly and +eagerly. + +His tangled beard was unclean; his sunken, clouded eyes were with +difficulty raised to the young man's face. When he had finished drinking, +he tried to raise his hand to wipe his wet lips, but his strength failed +him, and he wiped them on the sleeve of his overcoat. Silently, and +breathing with difficulty through his nose, he looked straight into the +young man's eyes, and tried to collect his strength. + +"Maybe you have promised them to some one else?" said the young driver. "If +that's so, all right. The worst of it is, it is wet outside, and I have to +go out to my work, and so I said to myself, 'I reckon I'll ask Fyédka for +his boots; I reckon he won't be needing them.' But maybe you will need +them,--just say".... + +Something began to bubble up and rumble in the sick man's chest; he bent +over, and began to strangle, with a cough that rattled in his throat. + +"Now I should like to know where he would need them?" unexpectedly snapped +out the cook, angrily addressing the whole hovel. "This is the second month +that he has not crept down from the oven. Just see how he is all broken up! +and you can hear how it must hurt him inside. Where would he need boots? +They would not think of burying him in new ones! And it was time long ago, +God pardon me the sin of saying so. Just see how he chokes! He ought to be +taken from this hovel to another, or somewhere. They say there's hospitals +in the city; but what's you going to do? he takes up the whole room, and +that's too much. There isn't any room at all. And yet you are expected to +keep neat." + +"Hey! Seryóha, come along, take your place, the people are waiting," cried +the head man of the station, coming to the door. + +Seryóha started to go without waiting for his reply, but the sick man +during his cough intimated by his eyes that he was going to speak. + +"You can take the boots, Seryóha," said he, conquering the cough and +getting his breath a little. "Only, do you hear, buy me a stone when I am +dead," he added hoarsely. + +"Thank you, uncle; then I will take them, and as for the +stone,--_éï-éï!_--I will buy you one." + +"There, children, you are witnesses," the sick man was able to articulate, +and then once more he bent over and began to choke. + +"All right, we have heard," said one of the drivers. "But run, Seryóha, or +else the stárosta will be after you again. You know Lady Shirkínskaya is +sick." + +Seryóha quickly pulled off his ragged, unwieldy boots, and flung them under +the bench. Uncle Feódor's fitted his feet exactly, and the young driver +could not keep his eyes off them as he went to the carriage. + +"_Ek!_ what splendid boots! Here's some grease," called another driver with +the grease-pot in his hand, as Seryóha mounted to his box and gathered up +the reins. "Get them for nothing?" + +"So you're jealous, are you?" cried Seryóha, lifting up and tucking around +his legs the tails of his overcoat. "Off with you, my darlings," he cried +to the horses, cracking his knout; and the coach and barouche with their +occupants, trunks, and other belongings, were hidden in the thick autumnal +mist, and rapidly whirled away over the wet road. + +The sick driver remained on the oven in the stifling hovel, and, not being +able to throw off the phlegm, by a supreme effort turned over on the +other-side, and stopped coughing. + +Till evening there was a continual coming and going, and eating of meals in +the hovel, and the sick man was not noticed. Before night came on, the cook +climbed upon the oven, and pulled off the sheep-skin from his legs. + +"Don't be angry with me, Nastásya," murmured the sick man. "I shall soon +leave you your room." + +"All right, all right, it's of no consequence. But what is the matter with +you, uncle? Tell me." + +"All my innards are gnawed out, God knows what it is!" + +"And I don't doubt your gullet hurts you when you cough so?" + +"It hurts me all over. My death is at hand, that's what it is. _Okh! Okh! +Okh!_" groaned the sick man. + +"Now cover up your legs this way," said Nastásya, comfortably arranging the +overcoat so that it would cover him, and then getting down from the oven. + +During the night the hovel was faintly lighted by a single taper. Nastásya +and a dozen drivers were sleeping, snoring loudly, on the floor and the +benches. Only the sick man feebly choked and coughed, and tossed on the +oven. + +In the morning no sound was heard from him. + +"I saw something wonderful in my sleep," said the cook, as she stretched +herself in the early twilight the next morning. "I seemed to see Uncle +Khveódor get down from the oven, and go out to cut wood. 'Look here,' says +he, 'I'm going to help you, Násya;' and I says to him, 'How can you split +wood?' but he seizes the hatchet, and begins to cut so fast, so fast that +nothing but chips fly. 'Why,' says I, 'ain't you been sick?'--'No,' says +he, 'I am well,' and he kind of lifted up the axe, and I was scared; and I +screamed and woke up. He can't be dead, can he?--Uncle Khveódor! hey, +uncle!" + +Feódor did not move. + +"Now he can't be dead, can he? Go and see," said one of the drivers who had +just waked up. The emaciated hand, covered with reddish hair, that hung +down from the oven, was cold and pale. + +"Go tell the superintendent; it seems he is dead," said the driver. + +Feódor had no relatives. He was a stranger. On the next day they buried him +in the new burying-ground behind the grove; and Nastásya for many days had +to tell everybody of the dream which she had seen, and how she had been the +first to discover that Uncle Feódor was dead. + + +III. + +Spring had come. + +Along the wet streets of the city swift streamlets ran purling between bits +of ice; bright were the colors of people's dresses and the tones of their +voices, as they hurried along. In the walled gardens, the buds on the trees +were bourgeoning, and the fresh breeze swayed their branches with a soft +gentle murmur. Everywhere transparent drops were forming and falling.... + +The sparrows chattered incoherently, and fluttered about on their little +wings. On the sunny side, on the walls, houses, and trees, all was full of +life and brilliancy. The sky, and the earth, and the heart of man +overflowed with youth and joy. + +In front of a great seignorial mansion, in one of the principal streets, +fresh straw was laid; in the house lay that same invalid whom we saw +hastening abroad. + +Near the closed doors of the house stood the sick lady's husband, and a +lady well along in years. On a sofa sat the confessor, with cast-down eyes, +holding something wrapped up under his stole.[91] In one corner, in a +Voltaire easy-chair, reclined an old lady, the sick woman's mother, weeping +violently. + +[Footnote 91: Called _epitrachilion_ in the Greek Church.] + +Near her the maid stood holding a clean handkerchief, ready for the old +lady's use when she should ask for it. Another maid was rubbing the old +lady's temples, and blowing on her gray head underneath her cap. + +"Well, Christ be with you, my dear," said the husband to the elderly lady +who was standing with him near the door: "she has such confidence in you; +you know how to talk with her; go and speak with her a little while, my +darling, please go!" + +He was about to open the door for her; but his cousin held him back, +putting her handkerchief several times to her eyes, and shaking her head. + +"There, now she will not see that I have been weeping," said she, and, +opening the door herself, went to the invalid. + +The husband was in the greatest excitement, and seemed quite beside +himself. He started to go over to the old mother, but after taking a few +steps he turned around, walked the length of the room, and approached the +priest. + +The priest looked at him, raised his brows toward heaven, and sighed. The +thick gray beard also was lifted and fell again. + +"My God! my God!" said the husband. + +"What can you do?" exclaimed the confessor, sighing and again lifting up +his brows and beard, and letting them drop. + +"And the old mother there!" exclaimed the husband, almost in despair. "She +will not be able to endure it. You see, she loved her so, she loved her so, +that she.... I don't know. You might try, holy father,[92] to calm her a +little, and persuade her to go away." + +[Footnote 92: _bátiushka._] + +The confessor arose and went over to the old lady. + +"It is true, no one can appreciate a mother's heart," said he, "but God is +compassionate." + +The old lady's face was suddenly convulsed, and a hysterical sob shook her +frame. + +"God is compassionate," repeated the priest, when she had grown a little +calmer. "I will tell you, in my parish there was a sick man, and much worse +than Márya Dmítrievna, and he, though he was only a shopkeeper,[93] was +cured in a very short time, by means of herbs. And this very same +shopkeeper is now in Moscow. I have told Vasíli Dmítrievitch about him; it +might be tried, you know. At all events, it would satisfy the invalid. With +God, all things are possible." + +[Footnote 93: _meshchánin._] + +"No, she won't get well," persisted the old lady. "Why should God have +taken her, and not me?" + +And again the hysterical sobbing overcame her so violently that she fainted +away. + +The invalid's husband hid his face in his hands, and rushed from the room. + +In the corridor the first person whom he met was a six-year-old boy, who +was chasing his little sister with all his might and main. + +"Do you bid me take the children to their mamma?" inquired the nurse. + +"No, she is not able to see them. They distract her." + +The lad stopped for a moment, and after looking eagerly into his father's +face, he cut a dido with his leg, and with merry shouts ran on. "I'm +playing she's a horse, papásha," cried the little fellow, pointing to his +sister. + +Meantime, in the next room, the cousin had taken her seat near the sick +woman, and was skilfully bringing the conversation by degrees round so as +to prepare her for the thought of death. The doctor stood by the window, +mixing some draught. + +The invalid in a white dressing-gown, all surrounded by cushions, was +sitting up in bed, and gazed silently at her cousin. + +"Ah, my dear!" she exclaimed, unexpectedly interrupting her, "don't try to +prepare me; don't treat me like a little child! I am a Christian woman. I +know all about it. I know that I have not long to live; I know that if my +husband had heeded me sooner, I should have been in Italy, and possibly, +yes probably, should have been well by this time. They all told him so. But +what is to be done? it's as God saw fit. We all of us have sinned, I know +that; but I hope in the mercy of God, that all will be pardoned, ought to +be pardoned. I am trying to sound my own heart. I also have committed many +sins, my love. But how much I have suffered in atonement! I have tried to +bear my sufferings patiently".... + +"Then shall I have the confessor come in, my love? It will be all the +easier for you, after you have been absolved," said the cousin. + +The sick woman dropped her head in token of assent. "O God! pardon me a +sinner," she whispered. + +The cousin went out, and beckoned to the confessor. "She is an angel," she +said to the husband, with tears in her eyes. The husband wept. The priest +went into the sick-room; the old lady still remained unconscious, and in +the room beyond all was perfectly quiet. At the end of five minutes the +confessor came out, and, taking off his stole, arranged his hair. + +"Thanks be to the Lord, she is calmer now," said he. "She wishes to see +you." + +The cousin and the husband went to the sick-room. The invalid, gently +weeping, was gazing at the images. + +"I congratulate you, my love," said the husband. + +"Thank you. How well I feel now! what ineffable joy I experience!" said the +sick woman, and a faint smile played over her thin lips. "How merciful God +is! Is it not so? He is merciful and omnipotent!" And again with an eager +prayer she turned her tearful eyes towards the holy images. + +Then suddenly something seemed to occur to her mind. She beckoned to her +husband. + +"You are never willing to do what I desire," said she in a weak and +querulous voice. + +The husband, stretching his neck, listened to her submissively. + +"What is it, my love?" + +"How many times I have told you that these doctors don't know any thing! +There are uneducated women doctors: they make cures. That's what the good +father said.... A shopkeeper.... send for him".... + +"For whom, my love?" + +"Good heavens! you can never understand me." And the dying woman frowned, +and closed her eyes. + +The doctor came to her, and took her hand. Her pulse was evidently growing +feebler and feebler. He made a sign to the husband. The sick woman remarked +this gesture, and looked around in fright. The cousin turned away to hide +her tears. + +"Don't weep, don't torment yourselves on my account," said the invalid. +"That takes away from me my last comfort." + +"You are an angel!" exclaimed the cousin, kissing her hand. + +"No, kiss me here. They only kiss the hands of those who are dead. My God! +my God!" + +That same evening the sick woman was a corpse, and the corpse in the +coffin lay in the parlor of the great mansion. In the immense room, the +doors of which were closed, sat the clerk,[94] and with a monotonous voice +read the Psalms of David through his nose. + +[Footnote 94: _diachók._] + +The bright glare from the wax candles in the lofty silver candelabra fell +on the white brow of the dead, on the heavy waxen hands, on the stiff folds +of the cerement which brought out into awful relief the knees and the feet. + +The clerk, not varying his tones, continued to read on steadily, and in the +silence of the chamber of death his words rang out and died away. +Occasionally from distant rooms came the voice of children and their +romping. + +"_Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled; thou takest away their breath, +they die and return to their dust._ + +"_Thou sendest forth thy Spirit, they are created; and thou renewest the +face of the earth._ + +"_The glory of the Lord shall endure forever: the Lord shall rejoice in his +works._" + +The face of the dead was stern and majestic. But there was no motion either +on the pure cold brow, or the firmly closed lips. She was all attention. +But did she perhaps now understand these grand words? + + +IV. + +At the end of a month, over the grave of the dead a stone chapel was +erected. Over the driver's there was as yet no stone, and only the fresh +green grass sprouted over the mound that served as the sole record of the +past existence of a man. + +"It will be a sin and a shame, Seryóha," said the cook at the station-house +one day, "if you don't buy a gravestone for Khveódor. You kept saying, +'It's winter, winter,' but now why don't you keep your word? I heard it +all. He has already come back once to ask why you don't do it; if you don't +buy him one, he will come again, he will choke you." + +"Well, now, have I denied it?" urged Seryóha. "I am going to buy him a +stone, as I said I would. I can get one for a ruble and a half. I have not +forgotten about it; I'll have to get it. As soon as I happen to be in town, +then I'll buy him one." + +"You ought at least to put up a cross, that's what you ought to do," said +an old driver. "It isn't right at all. You're wearing those boots now." + +"Yes. But where could I get him a cross? You wouldn't want to make one out +of an old piece of stick, would you?" + +"What is that you say? Make one out of an old piece of stick? No; take your +axe, go out to the wood a little earlier than usual, and you can hew him +out one. Take a little ash-tree, and you can make one. You can have a +covered cross. If you go then, you won't have to give the watchman a little +drink of vodka. One doesn't want to give vodka for every trifle. Now, +yesterday I broke my axletree, and I go and hew out a new one of green +wood. No one said a word." + +Early the next morning, almost before dawn, Seryóha took his axe, and went +to the wood. + +Over all things hung a cold, dead veil of falling mist, as yet untouched by +the rays of the sun. + +The cast gradually grew brighter, reflecting its pale light over the vault +of heaven still covered by light clouds. Not a single grass-blade below, +not a single leaf on the topmost branches of the tree-top, waved. Only from +time to time could be heard the sounds of fluttering wings in the thicket, +or a rustling on the ground broke in upon the silence of the forest. + +Suddenly a strange sound, foreign to this nature, resounded and died away +at the edge of the forest. Again the noise sounded, and was monotonously +repeated again and again, at the foot of one of the ancient, immovable +trees. A tree-top began to shake in an extraordinary manner; the juicy +leaves whispered something; and the warbler, sitting on one of the +branches, flew off a couple of times with a shrill cry, and, wagging its +tail, finally perched on another tree. + +The axe rang more and more frequently; the white chips, full of sap, were +scattered upon the dewy grass, and a slight cracking was heard beneath the +blows. + +The tree trembled with all its body, leaned over, and quickly straightened +itself with a fearful shudder on its base. + +For an instant all was still, then once more the tree bent over; a crash +was heard in its trunk; and tearing the thicket, and dragging down the +branches, it plunged toward the damp earth. + +The noise of the axe and of footsteps ceased. + +The warbler uttered a cry, and flew higher. The branch which she grazed +with her wings shook for an instant, and then came to rest like all the +others with their foliage. + +The trees, more joyously than ever, extended their branches over the new +space that had been made in their midst. + +The first sunbeams, breaking through the cloud, gleamed in the sky, and +shone along the earth and heavens. + +The mist, in billows, began to float along the hollows; the dew, gleaming, +played on the green foliage; translucent white clouds hurried along their +azure path. + +The birds hopped about in the thicket, and, as though beside themselves, +voiced their happiness; the juicy leaves joyfully and contentedly whispered +on the tree-tops; and the branches of the living trees slowly and +majestically waved over the dead and fallen tree. + + + + +A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS. + + +I. + +A Russian of rank was serving as an officer in the army of the Caucasus. +His name was Zhilin. + +There came to him one day a letter from his home. His aged mother wrote +him: "I am now getting along in years, and before I die I should like to +see my beloved son. Come and bid me farewell, lay me in the ground, and +then with my blessing return again to your service. And I have been finding +a bride for you, and she is intelligent and handsome and has property. If +you like, you can marry and settle down together." + +Zhilin cogitated, "It is very true: the old lady has been growing feeble; +maybe I shall not have a chance to see her again. Let us go, and if the +bride is pretty--then I might marry." + +He went to his colonel, got his leave of absence, took his farewell of his +comrades, gave the soldiers of his command nine gallons[95] of vodka as a +farewell treat, and made his arrangements to depart. + +[Footnote 95: Four _vedros_, equivalent exactly to 8.80 gallons.] + +There was war at that time in the Caucasus. The roads were not open for +travel either by day or night. If any of the Russians rode or walked +outside of the fortress, the Tatars were likely either to kill him or +carry him off to the mountains. And it was arranged that twice a week an +escort of soldiers should go from fortress to fortress. In front and behind +marched the soldiers, and the travellers rode in the middle. + +It was now summer-time. At sunrise the baggage-train was made up behind the +fortification; the guard of soldiery marched ahead, and the procession +moved along the road. + +Zhilin was on horseback, and his effects were on a cart that formed part of +the train. + +They had twenty-five versts[96] to travel. The train marched slowly; +sometimes the soldiers halted; sometimes a wagon-wheel came off, or a horse +balked, and all had to stop and wait. + +[Footnote 96: Sixteen and a half miles.] + +The sun was already past the zenith, but the train had only gone half way, +so great were the dust and heat. The sun was baking hot, and nowhere was +there shelter. A bald steppe; not a tree or a shrub on the road. + +Zhilin rode on ahead, occasionally stopping and waiting till the train +caught up with him. He would listen, and hear the signal on the horn to +halt again. And Zhilin thought, "Would I better go on alone without the +soldiers? I have a good horse under me; if I fall in with the Tatars, I can +escape. Or shall I wait?" + +He kept stopping and pondering. And just then another officer, also on +horseback, rode up to him; his name was Kostuilin, and he had a musket. + +He said, "Zhilin, let us ride on ahead together. I am so hungry that I +cannot stand it any longer, and the heat too,--you could wring my shirt +out!" Kostuilin was a heavy, stout, ruddy man, and the sweat was dripping +from him. + +Zhilin reflected, and said, "And your musket is loaded?" + +"It is." + +"All right, let us go. Only one condition: not to separate." + +And they started on up the road. They rode along the steppe, talking and +looking on each side. There was a wide sweep of view. As soon as the steppe +came to an end, the road went into a pass between two mountains. + +And Zhilin said, "I must ride up on that mountain, and reconnoitre, +otherwise you see they might come down from the mountain and surprise us." + +But Kostuilin said, "What is there to reconnoitre? Let us go ahead." + +Zhilin did not heed him. + +"No," says he, "you wait for me here below. I'll just glance around." + +And he spurred his horse up the mountain to the left. + +The horse that Zhilin rode was a hunter; he had bought him out of a drove +of colts, paying a hundred rubles for him, and he had himself trained him. +He bore him up the steep slope as on wings. He had hardly reached the +summit when before him less than seven hundred feet distant mounted Tatars +were standing,--thirty men. + +He saw them, and started to turn back, but the Tatars had caught sight of +him; they set out in pursuit of him, unstrapping their weapons as they +gallop. Zhilin dashes down the precipice with all the speed of his horse, +and cries to Kostuilin, "Fire your gun!" and to his horse he says, though +not aloud, "Little mother, carry me safely, don't stumble; if you trip, I +am lost. If we get back to the gun, we won't fall into their hands." + +But Kostuilin, instead of waiting for him, as soon as he saw the Tatars, +galloped on with all his might toward the fortress. With his whip he +belabored his horse, first on one side, then on the other; all that could +be seen through the dust, was the horse switching her tail. + +Zhilin saw that his case was desperate. The gun was gone; nothing was to be +done with a sabre alone. He turned his horse back toward the train; he +thought he might escape that way. + +But in front of him, he sees that six are galloping down the steep. His +horse is good, but theirs are better; and besides, they have got the start +of him. He started to wheel about, and was going to dash ahead again, but +his horse had got momentum, and could not be held back; he flew straight +down toward them. + +He sees a red-bearded Tatar approaching him on a gray mare. He is gaining +on him; he gnashes his teeth; he is getting his gun ready. + +"Well," thinks Zhilin, "I know you devils; if you should take me prisoner, +you would put me in a hole, and flog me with a whip. I won't give myself up +alive." + +Now, Zhilin was not of great size, but he was an uhlan. He drew his sabre, +spurred his horse straight at the red-bearded Tatar. He says to himself, +"Either I will crush him with my horse, or I will hack him down with my +sabre." + +Zhilin, however, did not reach the place on horseback; suddenly behind him, +gun-shots were fired at the horse. The horse fell headlong, and pinned +Zhilin's leg to the ground. + +He tried to arise; but already ill-smelling Tatars were sitting on him, and +pinioning his hands behind his back. + +He burst from them, knocking the Tatars over; but three others had +dismounted from their horses, and began to beat him on the head with their +gun-stocks. + +His sight failed him, and he staggered. + +The Tatars seized him, took from their saddles extra saddle-girths, bent +his arms behind his back, fastened them with a Tatar knot, and lifted him +up. + +They took his sabre from him, pulled off his boots, made a thorough search +of him, pulled out his money and his watch, tore his clothes all to pieces. + +Zhilin glanced at his horse. The poor beast lay as he had fallen, on his +side, and was kicking, vainly trying to rise. In his head was a hole, and +from the hole the black blood was pouring; the dust for an arshin around +was wet with it. + +A Tatar went to the horse to remove the saddle. He was still kicking, so +the man took out his dagger, and cut his throat. The throat gave a +whistling sound, a trembling ran over the body, and all was over. + +The Tatars took off the saddle and the other trappings. The one with the +red beard mounted his horse, and the others lifted Zhilin behind him to +keep him from falling; they fastened him with the reins to the Tatar's +belt, and thus they carried him off to the mountains. + +Zhilin sat behind, swaying and bumping his face against the stinking +Tatar's back. + +All that he could see before him was the healthy Tatar back, and the sinewy +neck, and a smooth-shaven nape, showing blue beneath the cap. + +Zhilin's head ached; the blood trickled into his eyes. And it was +impossible for him to get a more comfortable position on the horse, or wipe +away the blood. His arms were so tightly bound that his collar-bones ached. +They rode long from mountain to mountain; they forded a river; then they +entered a highway, and rode along a valley. Zhilin tried to follow the +route that they took him; but his eyes were glued together with blood, and +it was impossible for him to turn round. + +It began to grow dark; they crossed still another river, and began to climb +a rocky mountain. There was an odor of smoke. The barking of dogs was +heard. + +They had reached an _aul_.[97] + +[Footnote 97: _Aul_ = Tatar's village.--_Author's note._] + +The Tatars dismounted. The Tatar children came running up, and surrounded +Zhilin, whistling and exulting. Finally they began to fling stones at him. + +The Tatar drove away the children, lifted Zhilin from the horse, and called +a servant. + +A Nogáï, with prominent cheek-bones, came at the call. He wore only a +shirt. The shirt was torn; his whole breast was bare. The Tatar said +something to him. The servant brought a foot-stock. It consisted of two +oaken blocks provided with iron rings, and in one of the rings was a clamp +with a lock. They unfastened Zhilin's arms, put on the stock, and took him +to a barn, pushed him in, and shut the door. + +Zhilin fell on the manure. As he lay there, he felt round in the darkness, +and when he had found a place that was less foul, he stretched himself out. + + +II. + +Zhilin scarcely slept that night. The nights were short. He saw through a +crack that it was growing light. Zhilin got up, widened the crack, and +managed to look out. + +Through the crack he could see a road leading down from the mountain; at +the right, a Tatar _saklia_[98] with two trees near it. A black dog was +lying on the road; a she-goat with her kids was walking by, all of them +shaking their tails. + +[Footnote 98: A mountain-hut in the Caucasus.] + +He saw coming down the mountain a young Tatar girl in a variegated shirt, +ungirdled, in pantalettes and boots; her head was covered with a kaftan, +and on it she bore a great tin water-jug. + +She walked along, swaying and bending her back, and holding by the hand a +little Tatar urchin, with shaven head, who wore a single shirt. + +After the Tatar maiden had passed with her water-jug, the red-bearded Tatar +of the evening before came out, wearing a silk beshmet, a silver dagger in +his belt, and sandals on his bare feet. On his head was a high cap of +sheep-skin, dyed black, and with the point hanging down. He came out, +stretched himself, stroked his red beard. He paused, gave some order to the +servant, and went off somewhere. + +Then two children on horseback came along on their way to the +watering-trough. The hind-quarters of the horses were wet. + +Other shaven-headed youngsters, with nothing but shirts on, and nothing on +their legs, formed a little band, and came to the barn; they got a dry +stick, and stuck it through the crack. + +Zhilin growled "_ukh_" at them. The children began to cry, and scatter in +every direction as fast as their legs would carry them; only their bare +knees glistened. But Zhilin began to be thirsty; his throat was parched. He +said to himself, "I wonder if they won't come to look after me?" + +Suddenly the barn-doors are thrown open. + +The red Tatar came in, and with him another, of slighter stature and of +dark complexion. His eyes were bright and black, his cheeks ruddy, his +little beard well trimmed, his face jolly and always enlivened with a grin. + +The dark man's clothing was still richer: a silk beshmet of blue silk, +embroidered with gold lace. In his belt, a great silver dagger; handsome +morocco slippers embroidered with silver, and over the fine slippers he +wore a larger pair of stout ones. His cap was tall, of white lamb's wool. + +The red Tatar came in, muttered something, gave vent to some abusive +language, and then stood leaning against the wall, fingering his dagger, +and scowling under his brows at Zhilin, like a wolf. + +But the dark Tatar, nervous and active, and always on the go, as though he +were made of springs, came straight up to Zhilin, squatted down on his +heels, showed his teeth, tapped him on the shoulder, began to gabble +something in his own language, winked his eyes, and, clucking his tongue, +kept saying, "A fine Russ, a fine Russ!"[99] + +[Footnote 99: _Urus_ in Tatar.] + +Zhilin did not understand him, and said, "Drink; give me some water." + +The dark one grinned. + +"A fine Russ!" and all the time he kept babbling. + +Zhilin signified by his hands and lips that they should give him water. + +The dark one understood, grinned, put his head out of the door, and cried, +"Dina!" + +A young girl came running in,--a slender, lean creature of thirteen, with a +face like the dark man's. Evidently she was his daughter. + +She was dressed in a long blue shirt with wide sleeves and without a belt. +On the bottom, on the breast, and on the cuffs it was relieved with red +trimmings. She wore on her legs pantalettes and slippers, and over the +slippers another pair with high heels. On her neck was a necklace wholly +composed of half-ruble pieces. Her head was uncovered; she had her hair in +a black braid, and on the braid was a ribbon, and to the ribbon were +attached various ornaments and a silver ruble. + +Her father gave her some command. She ran out, and quickly returned, +bringing a little tin pitcher. After she had handed him the water, she also +squatted on her heels in such a way that her knees were higher than her +shoulders. + +She sits that way, and opens her eyes, and stares at Zhilin while he +drinks, as though he were some wild beast. + +Zhilin offered to return the pitcher to her. She darted away like a wild +goat. Even her father laughed. + +He sent her after something else. She took the pitcher, ran out, and +brought back some unleavened bread on a small round board, and again +squatted down, and stared without taking her eyes from him. + +The Tatars went out, and again bolted the door. + +After a while the Nogáï also comes to Zhilin, and says, "_Aï-da, khozyáïn, +aï-da!_" + +But he does not know Russian either. Zhilin, however, perceived that he +wished him to go somewhere. + +Zhilin hobbled out with his clog; it was impossible to walk, so he had to +drag one leg. The Nogáï led the way for him. + +He sees before him a Tatar village, of half a score of houses, and the +native mosque with its minaret. + +In front of one house stood three horses saddled. Lads held them by the +bridle. From this house came the dark Tatar, and waved his hand, signifying +that Zhilin was to come to him. He grinned, and kept saying something in +his own tongue, and went into the house. + +Zhilin followed him. + +The room was decent; the walls were smoothly plastered with clay. Against +the front wall were placed feather-beds; on the sides hung costly rugs; on +the rugs were guns, pistols, and sabres, all silver-mounted. + +On one side a little oven was set in, on a level with the floor. + +The floor was of earth, clean as a threshing-floor, and the whole of the +front portion was covered with felt; rugs were distributed over the felt, +and on the rugs were down pillows. + +On the rugs were sitting some Tatars in slippers only,--the dark Tatar, the +red-bearded one, and three guests. Behind their backs, down cushions were +placed; and before them on wooden plates were pancakes of millet-flour, and +melted butter in a cup, and the Tatar beer, called _buza_, in a pitcher. +They ate with their fingers, and all dipped into the butter. + +The dark man leaped up, bade Zhilin sit on one side, not on a rug but on +the bare floor; going back again to his rug, he handed his guests cakes and +_buza_. + +The servant showed Zhilin his place; he himself took off his shoes, placed +them by the door in a row with the slippers of the other guests, and took +his seat on the felt as near as possible to his masters; and while they eat +he looks at them, and his mouth waters. + +After the Tatars had finished eating, a Tatar woman entered, dressed in the +same sort of shirt as the girl wore, and in pantalettes; her head was +covered with a handkerchief. She carried out the butter and the cakes, and +brought a handsome finger-bowl, and a pitcher with a narrow nose. + +The Tatars finished washing their hands, then they folded their arms, knelt +down, and puffed on all sides, and said their prayers. They talked in their +own tongue. + +Then one of the guests, a Tatar, approached Zhilin, and began to speak to +him in Russian. "Kazi Muhamet made you prisoner," said he, pointing to the +red-bearded Tatar; "and he has given you to Abdul Murat," indicating the +dark one. "_Abdul Murat is now your master._"[100] + +[Footnote 100: _khozyáïn._] + +Zhilin said nothing. + +Abdul Murat began to talk, all the time pointing toward Zhilin, and grinned +as he talked-: "_soldat Urus, korosho Urus_." + +The interpreter went on to say, "He commands you to write a letter home, +and have them send money to ransom you. As soon as money is sent, he will +set you free." + +Zhilin pondered a little, and then said, "Does he wish a large ransom?" + +The Tatars took counsel together, and then the interpreter said,-- + +"Three thousand silver rubles." + +"No," replied Zhilin, "I can't pay that." + +Abdul leaped up, began to gesticulate and talk to Zhilin; he seemed all the +time to think that Zhilin understood him. + +The interpreter translated his words. "He means," says he, "how much will +you give?" + +Zhilin after pondering a little said, "Five hundred rubles." + +Then the Tatars all began to talk at once. Abdul began to scream at the +red-bearded Tatar. He grew so excited as he talked, that the spittle flew +from his mouth. + +But the red-bearded Tatar only frowned, and clucked with his tongue. + +When all became silent again, the interpreter said, "Five hundred rubles is +not enough to buy you of your master. He himself has paid two hundred for +you. Kazi Muhamet was in debt to him. He took you for the debt. Three +thousand rubles; it is no use to send less. But if you don't write, they +will put you in a hole, and flog you with a whip." + +"_Ekh!_" thinks Zhilin, "the more cowardly one is, the worse it is for +him." He leaped to his feet, and said,-- + +"Now you tell him, dog that he is, that if he thinks he is going to +frighten me, then I will not give him a single kopek nor will I write. I am +not afraid of you, and you will never make me afraid of you, you dog!" The +interpreter translated this, and again they all began to talk at once. + +They gabbled a long time, then the dark one got up and came to Zhilin. + +"_Urus_," says he, "_jigit, jigit Urus!_" + +The word _jigit_ among them signifies a brave young man. And he grinned, +said something to the interpreter, and the interpreter said, "Give a +thousand rubles." Zhilin would not give in. "I will not pay more than five +hundred. But if you kill me, you will get nothing at all." + +The Tatars consulted together, sent out the servant, and they themselves +looked first at the door, then at Zhilin. + +The servant returned, followed by a rather stout man in bare feet and +almost stripped. His feet also were in stocks. + +Zhilin made an exclamation: he recognized Kostuilin. + +And they brought him in, and placed him next his comrade; the two began to +talk together, and the Tatars looked on and listened in silence. + +Zhilin told how it had gone with him; Kostuilin told how his horse had +stood stock still, and his gun had missed fire, and that this same Abdul +had overtaken him and captured him. + +Abdul listened, pointed to Kostuilin, and muttered something. The +interpreter translated his words to mean that they now both belonged to the +same master, and that the one who paid the ransom first would be freed +first. "Now," says he to Zhilin, "you lose your temper so easily, but your +comrade is calm; he has written a letter home; they will send five +thousand silver rubles. And so he will be well fed, and he won't be hurt." + +And Zhilin said, "Let my comrade do as he pleases. Maybe he is rich. But I +am not rich; I will do as I have already told you. Kill me if you wish, but +it would not do you any good, and I will not pay you more than five hundred +rubles." + +They were silent. + +Suddenly Abdul leaped up, brought a little chest, took out a pen, a sheet +of paper, and ink, and pushed them into Zhilin's hands, then tapped him on +the shoulder, and said by signs, "Write." He had agreed to take the five +hundred rubles. + +"Wait a moment," said Zhilin to the interpreter. "Tell him that he must +feed us well, clothe us, and give us good decent foot-wear, and let us stay +together. We want to have a good time. And lastly, that he take off these +clogs." + +He looked at his Tatar master, and smiled. The master also smiled, and when +he learned what was wanted, said,-- + +"I will give you the very best clothes: a cherkeska[101] and boots, fit for +a wedding. And I will feed you like princes. And if you want to live +together, why, you can live in the barn. But it won't do to take away the +clogs: you would run away. Only at night will I have them taken off." Then +he jumped up, tapped him on the shoulder: "You good, me good." + +[Footnote 101: A sort of long Circassian cloak.] + +Zhilin wrote his letter, but he put on it the wrong address so that it +might never reach its destination. He said to himself, "I shall run away." + +They took Zhilin and Kostuilin to the barn, strewed corn-stalks, gave them +water in a pitcher, and bread, two old cherkeski, and some worn-out +military boots. It was evident that they had been stolen from some dead +soldier. When night came they took off their clogs, and locked them up in +the barn. + + +III. + +Thus Zhilin and his comrade lived a whole month. Their master was always on +the grin. + +"You, Iván, good--me, Abdul, good." + +But he gave them wretched food; unleavened bread made of millet-flour, +cooked in the form of cakes, but often not heated through. + +Kostuilin wrote home again, and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the +money, and lost his spirits. Whole days at a time, he sat in the barn, and +counted the days till his money should arrive, or else he slept. + +But Zhilin had no expectation that his letter would reach its destination, +and he did not write another. + +"Where," he asked himself,--"where would my mother get the money for my +ransom? And besides, she lived for the most part on what I used to send +her. If she made out to raise five hundred rubles, she would be in want +till the end of her days. If God wills it, I may escape." + +And all the time he kept his eyes open, and made plans to elude his +captors. + +He walked about the aul; he amused himself by whistling; or else he sat +down and fashioned things, either modelling dolls out of clay or plaiting +baskets of osiers, for Zhilin was a master at all sorts of handiwork. + +One time he had made a doll with nose, and hands and feet, and dressed in a +Tatar shirt, and he set the doll on the roof. The Tatar women were going +for water. Dina, the master's daughter, caught sight of the doll. She +called the Tatar girls. They set down their jugs, and looked and laughed. + +Zhilin took the doll, and offered it to them. They keep laughing, but don't +dare to take it. + +He left the doll, went to the barn, and watched what would take place. + +Dina ran up to the doll, looked around, seized the doll, and fled. + +The next morning at dawn he sees Dina come out on the doorstep with the +doll. And she has already dressed it up in red rags, and was rocking it +like a little child, and singing a lullaby in her own language. + +An old woman came out, gave her a scolding, snatched the doll away, broke +it in pieces, and sent Dina to her work. + +Zhilin made another doll, a still better one, and gave it to Dina. + +One time Dina brought a little jug, put it down, took a seat, and looked at +him. Then she laughed, and pointed to the jug. + +"What is she so gay about?" thinks Zhilin. + +He took the jug, and began to drink. He supposed that it was water, but it +was milk. + +He drank up the milk. + +"Good," says he. How delighted Dina was! "Good, Iván, good!" + +And she jumped up, clapped her hands, snatched the jug, and ran away. And +from that time she began to bring him secretly fresh milk every day. + +Now, sometimes the Tatars would make cheesecakes out of goat's milk, and +dry them on their roofs. Then she used to carry some of these cakes +secretly to him. And another time, when her father had killed a sheep, she +brought him a piece of mutton in her sleeve. She threw it down, and ran +away. + +One time there was a tremendous shower, and for a whole hour the rain +poured as from buckets; and all the brooks grew roily. Wherever there had +been a ford, the depth of the water increased to seven feet, and bowlders +were rolled along by it. Everywhere torrents were rushing, the mountains +were full of the roaring. + +Now, when the shower was over, streams were pouring all through the +village. Zhilin asked his master for a knife, whittled out a cylinder and +some paddles, and made a water-wheel, and fastened manikins at the two +ends. + +The little girls brought him some rags, and he dressed up the manikins, one +like a man, the other like a woman. He fastened them on, and put the wheel +in a brook. The wheel revolved, and the dolls danced. + +The whole village collected: the little boys and the little girls, the +women, and even the Tatars, came and clucked with their tongues. "_Aï, +Urus! aï, Iván!_" + +Abdul had a Russian watch, which had been broken. He took it, and showed it +to Zhilin, and clucked with his tongue. Zhilin said,-- + +"Let me have it, I will fix it." + +He took it, opened the penknife, took it apart. Then he put it together +again, and gave it back. The watch ran. + +The Tatar was delighted, brought him his old beshmet which was all in rags, +and gave it to him. Nothing else to be done,--he took it, and used it as a +covering at night. + +From that time, Zhilin's fame went abroad, that he was a "master." Even +from distant villages, they came to him. One brought him a gun-lock or a +pistol to repair, another a watch. + +His master furnished him with tools,--a pair of pincers and gimlets and a +little file. + +One time a Tatar fell ill; they came to Zhilin: "Come cure him!" + +Zhilin knew nothing of medicine. He went, looked at the sick man, said to +himself, "Perhaps he will get well, anyway." He went into the barn, took +water and sand, and shook them up together. He whispered a few words to the +water in presence of the Tatars, and gave it to the sick man to drink. + +Fortunately for him, the Tatar got well. + +Zhilin had by this time learned something of their language. And some of +the Tatars became accustomed to him; when they wanted him, they called him +by name, "Iván, Iván;" but others always looked at him as though he was a +wild beast. + +The red-bearded Tatar did not like Zhilin; when he saw him, he scowled and +turned away, or else insulted him. + +There was another old man among them; he did not live in the aul, but came +down from the mountain. Zhilin never saw him except when he came to the +mosque to prayer. He was of small stature; on his cap, he wore a white +handkerchief as an ornament. His beard and mustaches were trimmed; they +were white as wool, and his face was wrinkled and brick-red. His nose was +hooked like a hawk's, and his eyes were gray and cruel, and he had no teeth +except two tusks. + +He used to come in his turban, leaning on his staff, and glare like a +wolf; whenever he saw Zhilin, he would snort, and turn his back. + +One time Zhilin went to the mountain to see where the old man lived. He +descended a narrow path, and sees a little stone-walled garden. On the +other side of the wall are cherry-trees, peach-trees, and a little hut with +a flat roof. + +He went nearer; he sees bee-hives made of straw, and bees flying and +humming around them. And the old man is on his knees before the hives, +hammering something. + +Zhilin raised himself up, so as to get a better view, and his clog made a +noise. + +The old man looked up,--squealed; he pulled his pistol from his belt, and +fired at Zhilin, who had barely time to hide behind the wall. + +The old man came to make his complaint to Zhilin's master. Abdul called him +in, grinned, and asked him: + +"Why did you go to the old man's?" + +"I didn't do him any harm. I wanted to see how he lived." + +Abdul explained it to the old man; but he was angry, hissed, mumbled +something, showed his tusks, and threatened Zhilin with his hands. + +Zhilin did not understand it all; but he made out that the old man wished +Abdul to kill the two Russians, and not have them in the aul. + +The old man went off. + +Zhilin began to ask his master, "Who is that old man?" And the master +replied,-- + +"He is a great man. He used to be our first _jigit_; he has killed many +Russians. He used to be rich. He had three wives and eight sons. All lived +in one village. The Russians came, destroyed his village, and killed seven +of his sons. One son was left, and surrendered to the Russians. The old man +went and gave himself up to the Russians also. He lived among them three +months, found his son, killed him with his own hand, and escaped. Since +that time he has stopped fighting. He went to Mecca to pray to God, and +that's why he wears a turban. Whoever has been to Mecca is called a +_hadji_, and wears a _chalma_. But he does not love you Russians. He has +bade me kill you, but I don't intend to kill you. I have paid out money for +you, and besides, Iván, I have come to like you. And so far from wishing to +kill you, I would rather not let you go from me at all, if I had not given +my word." + +He laughed, and began to repeat in Russian, "_Tvoyá Iván, khorósh, moyá, +Abdul, khorósh._" + + +IV. + +Thus Zhilin lived a month. In the daytime he walked about the aul or did +some handiwork, but when night came, and it grew quiet in the aul, he +burrowed in his barn. It was hard work digging because of the stones, and +he sometimes had to use his file on them; and thus he dug a hole under the +wall big enough to crawl through. + +"Only," he thought, "I must know the region a little first, so as to escape +in the right direction. And the Tatars wouldn't tell me any thing." + +He waited till one time when his master was absent, then he went after +dinner behind the aul to a mountain. His idea was to reconnoitre the +country. + +But when Abdul returned he commanded a small boy to follow Zhilin, and not +take his eyes from him. The little fellow tagged after Zhilin, and kept +crying,-- + +"Don't go there. Father won't allow it. I will call the men if you go!" + +Zhilin began to reason with him. "I am not going far," says he,--"only to +that hill: I must get some herbs. Come with me; I can't run away with this +clog. To-morrow I will make you a bow and arrows." + +He persuaded the lad, they went together. To look at, the mountain is not +far, but it was hard work with the clog; he went a little distance at a +time, pulling himself up by main strength. + +Zhilin sat down on the summit, and began to survey the ground. + +To the south behind the barn lay a valley through which a herd was grazing, +and another aul was in sight at the foot of it. Back of the village was +another hill still steeper, and back of that still another. Between the +mountains lay a further stretch of forest, and then still other mountains +constantly rising higher and higher. And higher than all, stood snow-capped +peaks white as sugar, and one snowy peak rose like a dome above them all. + +To the east and west also were mountains. In every direction the smoke of +auls was to be seen in the ravines. + +"Well," he said to himself, "this is all their country." + +He began to look in the direction of the Russian possessions. At his very +feet was a little river, his village surrounded by gardens. By the river +some women, no larger in appearance than little dolls, were standing and +washing. Behind the aul was a lower mountain, and beyond it two other +mountains covered with forests. And between the two mountains a plain +stretched far, far away in the blue distance; and on the plain lay what +seemed like smoke. + +Zhilin tried to remember in what direction, when he lived at home in the +fortress, the sun used to rise, and where it set. He looked. "Just about +there," says he, "in that valley, our fortress ought to be. There, between +those two mountains, I must make my escape." + +The little sun began to slope toward the west. The snowy mountains changed +from white to purple; the wooded mountains grew dark; a mist arose from +the valley; and the valley itself, where the Russian fortress must be, +glowed in the sunset as though it were on fire. Zhilin strained his gaze. +Something seemed to hang waving in the air, like smoke arising from +chimneys. + +And so it seemed to him that it must be from the fortress itself,--the +Russian fortress. + +It was already growing late. The voice of the mulla calling to prayer was +heard. The herds began to return; the kine were lowing. The little lad kept +repeating, "Let us go!" but Zhilin could not tear himself away. + +They returned home. + +"Well," thinks Zhilin, "now I know the place; I must make my escape." + +He proposed to make his escape that very night. The nights were dark; it +was the wane of the moon. + +Unfortunately the Tatars returned in the evening. Usually they came in +driving the cattle with them, and came in hilarious. But this time they had +no cattle; but they brought a Tatar, dead on his saddle. It was Kazi +Muhamet's brother. They rode in solemnly, and collected for the burial. + +Zhilin also went out to look. + +They did not put the dead body in a coffin, but wrapped it in linen, and +placed it under a plane-tree in the village, where it lay on the sward. + +The mulla came; the old men gathered together, their caps bound around with +handkerchiefs. They took off their shoes, and sat in rows on their heels +before the dead. + +In front was the mulla, behind him three old men in turbans, and behind +them the rest of the Tatars. The mulla lifted the dead man's head, and +said, "Allah!" (That means God.) He said this one word, and let the head +fall back. All were silent; they sat motionless. + +Again the mulla lifted the head, saying, "Allah!" and all repeated it after +him,-- + +"Allah!" + +Then silence again. + +The dead man lay on the sward; he was motionless, and they sat as though +they were dead. Not one made a motion. The only sound was the rustling of +the foliage of the plane-tree, stirred by the breeze. + +Then the mulla offered a prayer. All got to their feet; they took the dead +body in their arms, and carried it away. + +They brought it to a pit. The pit was not a mere hole, but was hollowed out +under the earth like a cellar. + +They took the body under the armpits and by the legs, doubled it up, and +let it down gently, shoved it forcibly under the ground, and laid the arms +along the belly. The Nogáï brought a green osier. They laid it in the pit; +then they quickly filled it up with earth, and over the dead man's head +they placed a gravestone. They smoothed the earth over, and again sat +around the grave in rows. There was a long silence. + +"Allah! Allah! Allah!" + +They sighed and got up. The red-bearded Tatar gave money to the old men, +then he got up, struck his forehead three times with a whip, and went home. + +The next morning Zhilin sees the red-haired Tatar leading a mare through +the village, and three Tatars following him. They went behind the village. +Kazi Muhamet took off his beshmet, rolled up his sleeves,--his hands were +powerful,--took out his dagger, and sharpened it on a whetstone. The Tatars +held back the mare's head. Kazi Muhamet approached, and cut the throat; +then he turned the animal over, and began to flay it, pulling away the hide +with his mighty fists. + +The women and maidens came, and began to wash the intestines and the +lights. Then they cut up the mare, and carried the meat to the hut. And the +whole village collected at the Kazi Muhamet's to celebrate the dead. + +For three days they feasted on the mare and drank _buza_. Thus they +celebrated the dead. All the Tatars were at home. + +On the fourth day about noon, Zhilin sees that they are collecting for some +expedition. Their horses are brought out. They put on their gear, and +started off, ten men of them, under the command of the Kazi Muhamet; only +Abdul staid at home. There was a new moon, but the nights were still dark. + +"Now," thinks Zhilin, "to-day we must escape." And he tells Kostuilin. + +But Kostuilin was afraid. "How can we escape? We don't know the way." + +"I know the way." + +"But we should not get there during the night." + +"Well, if we don't get there we will spend the night in the woods. I have +some cakes. What are you going to do? It will be all right if they send you +the money, but you see, your friends may not collect so much. And the +Tatars are now angry because the Russians have killed one of their men. +They say they are thinking of killing us." + +Kostuilin thought and thought. "All right, let us go!" + + +V. + +Zhilin crept down into his hole, and widened it so that Kostuilin also +could get through, and then they sat and waited till all should be quiet in +the aul. + +As soon as the people were quiet in the aul, Zhilin crept under the wall, +and came out on the other side. He whispers to Kostuilin, "Crawl under." + +Kostuilin also crept under, but in doing so he hit a stone with his leg, +and it made a noise. + +Now, the master had a brindled dog as a watch,--a most ferocious animal; +they called him Ulyashin. + +Zhilin had been in the habit of feeding him. Ulyashin heard the noise, and +began to bark and jump about, and the other dogs joined in. + +Zhilin gave a little whistle, threw him a piece of cake. Ulyashin +recognized him, began to wag his tail, and ceased barking. + +Abdul had heard the disturbance, and cried from within the hut:-- + +"_Háït! háït!_ Ulyashin." + +But Zhilin scratched the dog behind the ears. The dog makes no more sound, +rubs against his legs, and wags his tail. + +They wait behind the corner. + +All became silent again; the only sound was the bleating of a sheep in the +fold, and far below them the water roaring over the pebbles. + +It is dark, but the sky is studded with stars. Over the mountain the young +moon hung red, with its horns turned upward. + +In the valleys a mist was rising, white as milk. Zhilin started up, and +said to his comrade in Tatar, "Well, brother, _aï-da_!" + +They set out again. + +But as they get under way, they hear the call of the mulla on the +minaret:-- + +"_Allah! Bis'm Allah! el Rakhman!_" + +"That means, the people will be going to the mosque." + +Again they sat down and hid under the wall. + +They sat there long, waiting until the people should pass. Again it grew +still. + +"Now for our fate!" + +They crossed themselves, and started. + +They went across the dvor, and down the steep bank to the stream, crossed +the stream, proceeded along the valley. The mist was thick, and closed in +all around them, but above their heads the stars could still be seen. + +Zhilin used the stars to guide him which way to go. It was cool in the +mist, it was easy walking, only their boots were troublesome,--they were +worn at the heels. Zhilin took his off, threw them away, and walked +barefoot. He sprang from stone to stone, and kept glancing at the stars. + +Kostuilin began to grow weary. "Go slower," says he; "my boots chafe me, my +whole foot is raw." + +"Then take them off, it will be easier." + +Kostuilin began to go barefoot, but that was still worse; he kept scraping +his feet on the stones and having to stop. + +Zhilin said to him, "You may cut your feet, but you will save your life; +but if you are caught they will kill you, which would be worse." + +Kostuilin said nothing, but crept along, groaning. For a long time they +went down the valley. Suddenly they hear dogs barking at the right. Zhilin +halted, looked around, climbed up the bank, and felt about with his hands. + +"_Ekh!_" says he, "we have made a mistake; we have gone too far to the +right. Here is one of the enemy's villages. I could see it from the hill. +We must go back to the left, up the mountain. There must be a forest +there." + +But Kostuilin objected. "Just wait a little while, let us get breath. My +feet are all blood." + +"Eh, brother! they will get well. You should walk more lightly. This way." + +And Zhilin turned back toward the left, and up hill toward the forest. + +Kostuilin kept halting and groaning. Zhilin tried to hush him up, and still +hastened on. + +They climbed the mountain. And there they found the forest. They entered +it; their clothes were all torn to pieces on the thorns. They found a +little path through the woods. They walked along it. + +"Halt!" + +There was the sound of hoofs on the path. They stopped to listen. It +sounded like the tramping of a horse: then it also stopped. They set out +once more; again the tramping hoofs. When they stopped, it stopped. + +Zhilin crept ahead, and investigated a light spot on the path. + +Something is standing there. It may be a horse, or it may not, but on it +there is something strange, not at all like a man. + +It snorted--plainly! "What a strange thing!" + +Zhilin gave a slight whistle. There was a dash of feet from the path into +the forest, a crackling in the underbrush, and something rushed along like +a hurricane, with a crashing of dry boughs. + +Kostuilin almost fell to the ground in fright. But Zhilin laughed, and +said,-- + +"That was a stag. Do you hear how it crashes through the woods with its +horns? We frightened him, and he frightened us." + +They went on their way. Already the Great Bear was beginning to set; the +dawn was not distant. And they were in doubt whether they should come out +right or not. Zhilin was inclined to think that they were on the right +track, and that it would be about ten versts farther before they reached +the Russian fortress, but there is no certain guide; you could not tell in +the night. + +They came to a little clearing. Kostuilin sat down and said,-- + +"Do as you please, but I will not go any farther; my legs won't carry me." + +Zhilin tried to persuade him. + +"No," says he, "I won't go, I can't go." + +Zhilin grew angry; he threatens him, he scolds him. + +"Then I will go on without you. Good-by!" + +Kostuilin jumped up and followed. They went four versts farther. The fog +began to grow thicker in the forest. Nothing could be seen before them; the +stars were barely visible. + +Suddenly they hear the tramping of a horse just in front of them; they can +hear his shoes striking on the stones. + +Zhilin threw himself down on his belly, and tried to listen by laying his +ear to the ground. + +"Yes, it is,--it is some one on horseback coming in our direction." + +They slipped off to one side of the road, crouched down in the bushes, and +waited. Zhilin crept close to the path, and looked. + +He sees a mounted Tatar riding along, driving a cow. The man is muttering +to himself. When the Tatar had ridden by, Zhilin returned to Kostuilin. + +"Well, God has saved us. Up with you! Come along!" + +Kostuilin tried to rise, and fell back. + +"I can't; by God, I can't. My strength is all gone." + +The man was as though he were drunk. He was all of a sweat; and as they +were surrounded by the cold fog, and his feet were torn, he was quite used +up. Zhilin tried to lift him by main force. Then Kostuilin cried, "_Aï!_ it +hurt." + +Zhilin was frightened to death. + +"What are you screaming for? Don't you know that Tatar is near? He will +hear you." But he said to himself, "Now he is really played out, what can I +do with him? I can't abandon a comrade. Now," says he, "get up; climb on my +back. I will carry you if you can't walk any longer." He took Kostuilin on +his shoulders, holding him by the thighs, and went along the path with his +burden. "Only," says he, "don't put your hands on my throat, for Christ's +sake! Lean on my shoulders." + +It was hard for Zhilin. His feet were also bloody, and he was weary. He +stopped, and made it a little easier for himself by setting Kostuilin down, +and getting him better mounted. Then he went on again. + +Evidently the Tatar had heard them when Kostuilin screamed. Zhilin caught +the sound of some one following them and shouting in his language. Zhilin +put into the bushes. The Tatar aimed his gun; he fired it off, but missed; +began to whine in his native tongue, and galloped up the path. + +"Well," says Zhilin, "we are lost, brother. The dog,--he will be right back +with a band of Tatars on our track.... If we don't succeed in putting three +versts between us, we are lost." And he thinks to himself, "The devil take +it, that I had to bring this clod along with me! Alone, I should have got +there long ago." + +Kostuilin said, "Go alone. Why should you be lost on my account?" + +"No, I will not go; it would not do to abandon a comrade." He lifted him +again on his shoulder, and started on. Thus he made a verst. It was forest +all the way, and no sign of outlet. But the fog was now beginning to lift, +and seemed to be floating away in little clouds: not a star could be seen. +Zhilin was tired out. + +A little spring gushed out by the road: it was walled in with stones. There +he stopped, and dropped Kostuilin. + +"Let me rest a little," says he, "and get a drink. We will eat our cakes. +It can't be very far now." + +He had just stretched himself out to drink, when the sound of hoofs was +heard behind them. Again they hid in the bushes at the right under the +crest, and crouched down. + +They heard Tatar voices. The Tatars stopped at the very spot where they had +turned in from the road. After discussing a while, they seemed to be +setting dogs on the scent. + +The refugees hear the sound of a crashing through the bushes: a strange dog +comes directly to them. He stops and barks. + +The Tatars followed on their track. They are also strangers. + +They seized them, bound them, lifted them on horses, and carried them off. + +After they had ridden three versts, Abdul, with two Tatars, met them. He +said something to their new captors. They were transferred to Abdul's +horses, and were brought back to the aul. + +Abdul was no longer grinning, and he said not a word to them. + +They reached the village at daybreak; the prisoners were left in the +street. The children gathered around them, tormenting them with stones and +whips, and howling. + +The Tatars gathered around them in a circle, and the old man from the +mountain was among them. They began to discuss. Zhilin made out that they +were deciding on what should be done with them. Some said that they ought +to be sent farther into the mountains, but the old man declared that they +must be killed. Abdul argued against it. Says he, "I have paid out money +for them, I shall get a ransom for them." + +But the old man said, "They won't pay any thing; it will only be an injury +to us. And it is a sin to keep Russians alive. Kill them, and that is the +end of it." + +They separated. Abdul came to Zhilin, and reported the decision. + +"If," says he, "the ransom is not sent in two weeks, you will be flogged. +And if you try to run away again, I will kill you like a dog. Write your +letter, and write it good!" + +Paper was brought them; they wrote their letters. Clogs were put on their +feet again; they were taken behind the mosque.... There was a pit twelve +feet[102] deep, and they were thrust down into this pit. + +[Footnote 102: Five arshins, 11.65 feet.] + + +VI. + +Life was made utterly wretched for them. Their clogs were not taken off +even at night, and they were not let out at all. + +Unbaked dough was thrown down to them as though they were dogs, and water +was let down in a jug. In the pit it was damp and suffocating. + +Kostuilin became ill, and swelled up, and had rheumatism all over his body, +and he groaned or slept all the time. + +Even Zhilin lost his spirits; he sees that they are in desperate straits. +And he does not know how to get out. + +He had begun to make an excavation, but there was nowhere to hide the +earth; Abdul discovered it, and threatened to kill him. + +He was squatting down one time in the pit, and thinking about life and +liberty, and he grew sad. + +Suddenly a cake[103] fell directly into his lap, then another, and some +cherries followed. He looked up, and there was Dina. She peered down at +him, laughed, and then ran away. And Zhilin began to conjecture, "Couldn't +Dina help me?" + +[Footnote 103: _lepyóshka._] + +He cleared out a little place in the pit, picked up some clay, and made +some dolls. He made men and women, horses and dogs; he said to himself, +"When Dina comes, I will give them to her." + +But Dina did not make her appearance on the next day. And Zhilin hears the +trampling of horses' hoofs: men came riding up: the Tatars collected at the +mosque, arguing, shouting, and talking about the Russians. + +The voice of the old man was heard. Zhilin could not understand very well, +but he made out that the Russians were somewhere near, and the Tatars were +afraid that they would attack the aul, and they did not know what to do +with the prisoners. + +They talked a while, and went away. Suddenly Zhilin heard a rustling at the +edge of the pit. + +He sees Dina squatting on her heels, with her knees higher than her head; +she leaned over, her necklace hung down and swung over the pit. And her +little eyes twinkled like stars. She took from her sleeve two cheesecakes, +and threw them down to him. Zhilin accepted them, and said, "Why did you +stay away so long? I have been making you some dolls. Here they are." He +began to toss them up to her one at a time. + +But she shook her head, and would not look at them. "I can't take them," +said she. She said nothing more for a time, but sat there: then she said, +"Iván, they want to kill you." + +She made a significant motion across her throat. + +"Who wants to kill me?" + +"Father. The old man has ordered him to. But I am sorry for you." + +And Zhilin said, "Well, then, if you are sorry for me, bring me a long +stick." She shook her head, meaning that it was impossible. + +He clasped his hands in supplication to her. "Dina, please! Bring one to +me, Dínushka!" + +"I can't," said she. "They would see me; they are all at home." And she ran +away. + +Afterwards, Zhilin was sitting there in the evening, and wondering what he +should do. He kept raising his eyes. He could see the stars, but the moon +was not yet up. The mulla uttered his call, then all became silent. + +Zhilin began already to doze, thinking to himself, "The little maid is +afraid." + +Suddenly a piece of clay fell on his head; he glanced up; a long pole was +sliding over the edge of the pit, it slid out, began to descend toward him, +it reached the bottom of the pit. Zhilin was delighted. He seized it, +pulled it along,--it was a strong pole. He had noticed it before on Abdul's +roof. + +He gazed up; the stars were shining high in the heavens, and Dina's eyes, +at the edge of the pit, gleamed in the darkness like a cat's. + +She craned her head over, and whispered, "Iván, Iván." And she waved her +hands before her face, meaning, "Softly, please." + +"What is it?" said Zhilin. + +"All have gone, there are only two at home." + +And Zhilin said, "Well, Kostuilin, let us go, let us make our last attempt. +I will help you." + +Kostuilin, however, would not hear to it. + +"No," says he, "it is not meant for me to get away from here. How could I +go when I haven't even strength to turn over?" + +"All right, then. Good-by.[104] Don't think me unkind." + +[Footnote 104: _proshchaï._] + +He kissed Kostuilin. + +He clasped the pole, told Dina to hold it firmly, and tried to climb up. +Twice he fell back,--his clog so impeded him. Kostuilin boosted him; he +managed to get to the top: Dina pulled on the sleeves of his shirt with all +her might, laughing heartily. + +Zhilin pulled up the pole, and said, "Carry it back to its place, Dina, for +if they found it they would flog you." + +She dragged off the pole, and Zhilin began to go down the mountain. When he +had reached the bottom of the cliff, he took a sharp stone, and tried to +break the padlock of his clog. But the lock was strong; he could not strike +it fairly. + +He hears some one hurrying down the hill, with light, skipping steps. He +thinks, "That is probably Dina again." + +Dina ran to him, took a stone, and says, "Let me try it." + +She knelt down, and began to work with all her might. But her hands were as +delicate as osiers. She had no strength. She threw down the stone, and +burst into tears. + +Zhilin again tried to break the lock, and Dina squatted by his side, and +leaned against his shoulder. Zhilin glanced up, and saw at the left behind +the mountain a red glow like a fire; it was the moon just rising. + +"Well," he says to himself, "I must cross the valley and get into the woods +before the moon rises." He stood up, and threw away the stone. No matter +for the clog--he must take it with him. + +"Good-by," says he. "Dínushka, I shall always remember you." + +Dina clung to him, reached with her hands for a place to stow away some +cakes. He took the cakes. + +"Thank you," said he: "you are a thoughtful darling. Who will make you +dolls after I am gone?" and he stroked her hair. + +Dina burst into tears, hid her face in her hands, and scrambled up the +hillside like a kid. He could hear, in the darkness, the jingling of the +coins on her braids. + +Zhilin crossed himself, picked up the lock of his clog so that it might not +make a noise, and started on his way, dragging his leg all the time, and +keeping his eyes constantly on the glow where the moon was rising. + +He knew the way. He had eight versts to go in a direct course, but he would +have to strike into the forest before the moon came entirely up. He crossed +the stream, and now the light was increasing behind the mountain. + +He proceeded along the valley: it was growing light. He walks along, +constantly glancing around; but still the moon was not visible. The glow +was now changing to white light, and one side of the valley grew brighter +and brighter. The shadow crept away from the mountain till it reached its +very foot. + +Zhilin still hurried along, all the time keeping to the shadow. + +He hurries as fast as he can, but the moon rises still faster; and now, at +the right, the mountain-tops are illuminated. + +He struck into the forest just as the moon rose above the mountains. It +became as light and white as day. On the trees all the leaves were visible. +It was warm and bright on the mountain-side; every thing seemed as though +it were dead. The only sound was the roaring of a torrent far below. He +walked along in the forest; he had met no one. Zhilin found a little spot +in the forest where it was still darker, and began to rest. + +While he rested he ate one of his cakes. He procured a stone and once more +tried to break the padlock, but he only bruised his hands, and failed to +break the lock. + +He arose and went on his way. When he had gone a verst his strength gave +out, his feet were sore. He had to walk ten steps at a time, and then rest. + +"There's nothing to be done for it," says he to himself. "I will push on as +long as my strength holds out; for if I sit down, then I shall not get up +again. If I do not reach the fortress before it is daylight, then I will +lie down in the woods and spend the day, and start on to-morrow night +again." + +He walked all night. Once he passed two Tatars on horseback, but he heard +them at some distance, and hid behind a tree. + +Already the moon was beginning to pale, the dew had fallen, it was near +dawn, and Zhilin had not reached the end of the forest. + +"Well," says he to himself, "I will go thirty steps farther, strike into +the forest, and sit down." + +He went thirty steps, and sees the end of the forest. He went to the edge; +it was broad daylight. Before him, as on the palm of his hand, were the +steppe and the fortress; and on the left, not far away on the +mountain-side, fires were burning, or dying out; the smoke rose, and men +were moving around the watch-fires. + +He looks, and sees the gleaming of fire-arms: Cossacks, soldiers! + +Zhilin was overjoyed. + +He gathered his remaining strength, and walked down the mountain. And he +says to himself, "God help me, if a mounted Tatar should get sight of me on +this bare field! I should not escape him, even though I am so near." Even +while these thoughts are passing through his mind, he sees at the left, on +a hillock not fourteen hundred feet away, three Tatars on the watch. They +caught sight of him,--bore down upon him. Then his heart failed within him. +Waving his arms, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Brothers! help, +brothers!" + +Our men heard him,--mounted Cossacks dashed out toward him. The Cossacks +were far off, the Tatars near. And now Zhilin collected his last remaining +energies, seized his clog with his hand, ran toward the Cossacks, and, +without any consciousness of feeling, crossed himself and cried, "Brothers, +brothers, brothers!" + +The Cossacks were fifteen in number. + +The Tatars were dismayed. Before they reached him, they stopped short. And +Zhilin reached the Cossacks. + +The Cossacks surrounded him, and questioned him: "Who are you?" "What is +your name?" "Where did you come from?" + +But Zhilin was almost beside himself; he wept, and kept on shouting, +"Brothers, brothers!" + +The soldiers hastened up, and gathered around him; one brought him bread, +another kasha-gruel, another vodka, another threw a cloak around him, still +another broke his chains. + +The officers recognized him, they brought him into the fortress. The +soldiers were delighted, his comrades pressed into Zhilin's room. + +Zhilin told them what had happened to him, and he ended his tale with the +words,-- + +"That's the way I went home and got married! No, I see that such is not to +be my fate." + +And he remained in the service in the Caucasus. + +At the end of a month Kostuilin was ransomed for five thousand rubles. + +He was brought home scarcely alive. + + * * * * * + + + + +COUNT TOLSTOÏ'S WORKS. + + +ANNA KARÉNINA $1.75 + +CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, AND YOUTH 1.50 + +IVAN ILYITCH 1.25 + +MY RELIGION 1.00 + +MY CONFESSION 1.00 + +WHAT TO DO? 1.25 + +THE INVADERS 1.25 + +A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR 1.50 + + +THOMAS Y CROWELL & CO., +PUBLISHERS. + +13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +COUNT TOLSTOI'S WORKS. + + +The demand for these Russian stories has but just fairly begun; but it is a +literary movement more widespread, more intense, than anything this country +has probably seen within the past quarter of a century.--_Boston +Traveller._ + + + ANNA KARÉNINA. 12mo, $1.75. + + "Will take rank among the great works of fiction of the + age."--_Portland Transcript._ + + "As you read on, you say not, 'This is _like_ life' but + 'This _is_ life.'"--_W. D. Howells._ + + + IVÁN ILYITCH, AND OTHER STORIES. 12mo, $1.25. + + "No living author surpasses him, and only one or two + approach him, in the power of picturing not merely places + but persons, with minute and fairly startling + fidelity."--_Congregationalist._ + + "Both the personal character and the literary art of Tolstoi + are manifested with simpler and clearer power in these + writings than in his novels, and the book becomes necessary + to an adequate understanding of Tolstoi's mission and + work."--_Globe._ + + + CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD, YOUTH. With Portrait of the Author. + 12mo, $1.50. + + A series of reminiscences and traditions of the author's + early life. + + "These exquisite sketches belong to the literature which + never grows old, which lives forever in the heart of + humanity as a cherished revelation."--_Literary World._ + + + MY CONFESSION AND THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST'S TEACHING. 12mo, + $1.00. + + An autobiographical account of the changes in the author's + religious opinions, and the various causes by which it was + brought about; all of which is told in the most delightful + manner, and will enable the reader to understand more + clearly his "My Religion," which is the sequel to this + volume. + + "Like the writings of Bunyan and Thomas à Kempis, Tolstoi's + Confession will be read eagerly and become spiritual tonic + and daily food to little children in the Kingdom of Christ, + whatever be their 'church,' tongue, or nation."--_Critic_, + New York. + + + MY RELIGION. A companion book to My Confession. 12mo, $1.00. + + "Should go to every household where the New Testament is + read. * * * Every man whose eyes are lifted above the manger + and the trough should take 'My Religion' to his home. Let + him read it with no matter what hostile prepossessions, let + him read it to confute it, but still read, and 'he that is + able to receive it, let him receive it.'"--_New York Sun._ + + + WHAT TO DO. Thoughts Evoked by the Census of Moscow. + Containing passages excluded by the Press Censor of Russia. + 12mo, $1.25. A sequel to "My Confession" and "My Religion." + + "Fascinating and startling."--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ + + "A very thoughtful and instructive work."--_Zion's Herald._ + + + THE INVADERS, AND OTHER STORIES. Tales of the Caucasus, + 12mo, $1.25. + + "Marked by the wonderful dramatic power which has made his + name so popular with an immense circle of readers in this + country and in Europe."--_Portland Press._ + + + A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR, AND OTHER STORIES. (_In Press._) 12mo, + $1.50. + + * * * * * + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. + +13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +IMPORTANT NEW BOOKS + +PUBLISHED BY + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO., 13 Astor Place, New York. + + +COUNT TOLSTOI'S WORKS.--The remarkable interest recently awakened by this +"great writer of the Russian land" has caused a constantly growing demand +for the English translations of his works. The following are now ready:-- + + +ANNA KARÉNINA 12mo, $1.75 +CHILDHOOD, BOYHOOD AND YOUTH 12mo, $1,50 +THE INVADERS " $1.25 +MY CONFESSION 12mo, $1.00 +MY RELIGION " $1.00 +IVAN ILYITCH, &c. " $1.25 +WHAT TO DO " $1.25 +A RUSSIAN PROPRIETOR (_in press_). + +LES MISÉRABLES.--By VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the French by Isabel F. +Hapgood. With 160 full-page illustrations, printed on fine calendered +paper, and bound in neat and attractive style. 5 vols., cloth, gilt top, +$7.50; half calf, $15.00. Popular edition in one volume, 12mo, $1.50. + +The name of the translator is sufficient guaranty that the work has been +skilfully and conscientiously performed. It is by far the completest and +best translation of this masterpiece. The type is clear and attractive, the +illustrations are by famous artists, and the volumes are in every way +desirable. + + +MRS. SHILLABER'S COOK-BOOK.--A Practical Guide for Housekeepers. By Mrs. +LYDIA SHILLABER. With an Introduction by Mrs. PARTINGTON. 12mo, cloth, +$1.25. Kitchen Edition, in oil-cloth, $1.25. First and second editions sold +before publication. Fourth edition now ready. + +The connection between laughter and good digestion is proverbial. It is +therefore auspicious for the phenomenal success of this sensible and +practical work that the genial Mrs. Partington is its sponsor. + + +TENNYSON'S WORKS.--HANDY VOLUME EDITION. Complete. Large type. From the +latest text, including Earlier Poems. Cloth, gilt top, 8 vols., $6.00; +parchment, gilt top, $10.50; half calf, gilt edges, $12.00; American seal +russia, gilt edge, round corners, $15.00; full calf, flexible, gilt edges, +round corners, $21.00; full calf, gilt edges, padded, round corners, +$25.00; tree calf, gilt edge, $30.00. + +All of the above are boxed in fancy leatherette or calf boxes, according to +style of binding, and make the most elegant and convenient edition of this +author's poems. + + +WASHINGTON IRVING'S WORKS.--From new plates. Cloth, 12mo, 6 vols., $7.50; +library edition, gilt top, $9.00; half calf, marbled, $15.00. + +An admirable library edition of an American classic. + + +POEMS IN COLOR.--With 56 exquisite illustrations from original designs by +W. J. Whittemore. + +SEA PICTURES, by Tennyson. +SUNRISE ON THE HILLS, by Longfellow. +THE WORSHIP OF NATURE, by Whittier. +I REMEMBER, by Hood. +TO A WATERFOWL, by Bryant. +TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, by Burns. + +These bright-colored and suggestive little designs are illustrations in the +best sense of the word. They interpret the poems. Nothing could be more +appropriate for a Christmas or birthday remembrance. 6 volumes. Fancy paper +covers, 50 cents each, cloth covers, stamped in gold, 75 cents each; +celluloid covers, lithographed, $1.00 each. + + +INITIALS AND PSEUDONYMS.--A Dictionary of Literary Disguises. By WILLIAM +CUSHING and ALBERT R. FREY. A new edition, enlarged and revised. Royal, +8vo, cloth, $5.00; half morocco, $7.50; interleaved, cloth, $7.50; +interleaved, half morocco, $10.00. + +A most convenient and even necessary adjunct for the desk of a literary +worker. + + +CHRIST AND CHRISTIANITY SERIES.--By Rev. H. R. HAWEIS. 5 vols., 12mo, each +$1.25. + +Those who are familiar with Mr. Haweis's vivid and fascinating style will +welcome these five volumes, which are written with deeply religious and +earnest feeling. + + +ST. PAUL'S PROBLEM AND ITS SOLUTION.--Dedicated to the Young People's +Society of Christian Endeavor, and setting forth under the guise of fiction +the work of this Society. By FAYE HUNTINGTON, author of "Transformed," +"What Fide Remembers," etc. 12mo. $1.25. + +"It is a good helpful book, whose value and merits can be understood only +through a personal reading."--_Church Press._ + + +SIGRID.--An Icelandic Love Story. Translated from the Danish of JON +THORDSSON THORODDSEN. 12mo. $1.25. + +A charming picture of manners and customs in "Ultima Thule." + + * * * * * + + + + +WHAT THE CRITICS SAY OF + +CROWELL'S ILLUSTRATED EDITION + +OF + +LES MISÉRABLES. + + +"This translation of Victor Hugo's masterpiece is the best one that has +been made."--_N. Y. Observer._ + +"Can hardly fail to be accepted by critical authorities as the permanent +Standard."--_Boston Traveller._ + +"Has been many times translated into English, but never has the work been +done by so clever and faithful a translator as Miss Hapgood."--_Albany +Press._ + +"The most spirited rendering of Hugo's masterpiece into English, and the +illustrations and the letter-press are just as deserving of +praise."--_Phila. Press._ + +"The translation will no doubt supersede all others."--_Cin-Times-Star._ + +"The publishers have made this book very attractive. They are to be +commended not only for the edition before us, but more especially for a +popular edition which will make this great work accessible to a wider class +of readers."--_Boston Advertiser._ + +"Deserves the highest praise."--_Nation._ + +"Miss Hapgood is sympathetic; she becomes one with her author. Her +rendering of 'Les Misérables' has not been equalled. It will not be +surpassed. The standard--it is here--is attained."--_National Republican._ + + +ASK YOUR BOOKSELLER FOR + +CROWELL'S ILLUSTRATED EDITION + +OF + +LES MISÉRABLES. + +By VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the French by ISABEL F. HAPGOOD. With 160 +full-page illustrations, printed on fine calendered paper, and bound in +neat and attractive style. + +5 vols., cloth, gilt top, $7.50; half calf, $15.00. + +Popular edition in one vol., 12mo, $1.50. + + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. + +13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +_Count Tolstoï's Greatest Work of Fiction_, + +ANNA KARÉNINA. + +By COUNT LEO. TOLSTOÏ. + +Translated from the Russian by NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. + +Royal 12mo, 750 pp., $1.75. + + + "As you read on you say, not, 'This is like life,' but, + 'This is life.' It has not only the complexion, the very + hue, of life, but its movement, its advances, its strange + pauses, its seeming reversions to former conditions, and its + perpetual change, its apparent isolations, its essential + solidarity. It is a world, and you live in it while you + read, and long afterward; but at no step have you been + betrayed, not because your guide has warned or exhorted you, + but because he has been true, and has shown you all things + as they are."--_W. D. Howells, in Harpers' Monthly._ + + "The power of this book lies in the author's supreme control + of the influences which affect human action, in his vivid + apprehension of the operation of inexorable law, in his + intuitive knowledge of the action and reaction of spiritual + conditions. With a noble art he throws against the shadow, + that deepens ever to the end, a radiant soul development + that serenely grows brighter till we know it is Tolstoï + himself, his experience, his best. It is a great book, and + of such creations the most sincere admiration falls sadly + short of fitting expression."--_Washington Post._ + + "The effect of the whole is stimulating and elevating. The + book is certainly one of decided genius."--_New York + Tribune._ + + "It is difficult to speak of this noble book without + incurring the suspicion of extravagance."--_New York + Examiner._ + + "Will take rank among the great works of fiction of the + age."--_Portland Transcript._ + + "Characterized by all the breadth and complexity, the + insight, and the profound analysis of + 'Middlemarch.'"--_Critic, New York._ + + "It is not undue praise to say that, since the publication + of Goethe's 'Elective Affinities,' no such relentless + analysis of the human emotions, and of the action and + reaction of social relations, has appeared as is shown in + Count Tolstoï's novel, 'Anna Karénina.'"--_Boston + Traveller._ + + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO., + +13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE LABOR MOVEMENT IN AMERICA. + +By RICHARD T. ELY, Ph.D., + +Associate in Political Economy, Johns Hopkins University; author of "French +and German Socialism," "The Past and the Present of Political Economy," +etc. + +12mo. Price, $1.50. + +CONTENTS. + +Survey of the Field. +Early American Communism. +The Growth and Present Condition of Labor +Organizations in America. +The Economic Value of Labor Organizations. +The Educational Value of Labor Organizations. +Other Aspects of Labor Organizations. +Co-operation in America. +The Beginnings of Modern Socialism in America. +The Internationalists. +The Propaganda of Deed and the Educational Campaign. +The Socialistic Labor Party. +The Strength of Revolutionary Socialism.--Its Significance. +Remedies. +Platform of Principles of the National Labor Union. +Pledge and Preamble of the Journeymen Bricklayers' Association of + Philadelphia. +Declaration of Principles and Objects of the Cigar Makers' Progressive + Union of America. +Extracts from the Constitution of the National Amalgamated Association + of Iron and Steel Workers of the United States. +Manifesto of the International Working People's Association. +Letter to Tramps, reprinted from the "Alarm" of Chicago. +Platform and Present Demands of the Socialistic Labor Party. +Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1886, by an American Socialist. + +NOTICES OF THE PRESS. + + "The subject has been his specialty for probably a dozen + years, and it is safe to say that he is more thoroughly and + intimately acquainted with it than any other man in the + country."--_Lancaster Intelligencer, Pa._ + + "The best work on the subject--we regard it as a great step + toward the solution of pending difficulties."--_North Western + Presbyterian._ + + "No man in this country speaks with the same authority or + deserves more earnest attention. Must take its place as an + essential in the education of every one who has heart to feel + or desire to comprehend what ground for dissatisfaction + really exists."--_Orange Chronicle._ + + "Deserves the most careful study. No question just now should + more profoundly interest the thinking men of all + classes."--_The Age of Steel._ + + "The review of the labor organizations in this country from + the year 1800 to 1886 is a masterly presentation, and will + justify even a poor man buying the book."--_The Beacon._ + + "A timely book by an able hand. We heartily commend this book + to every thoughtful citizen."--_Portland Argus._ + + "The work is among the best--we think it is the best--which + the perplexing labor question has evoked."--_The Interior._ + + "Every intelligent reader in the country will find the book + most useful."--_St. Louis Republican._ + + "No one who wishes to understand the problems of labor and + capital can afford to be without Professor Ely's + work."--_Rochester Chronicle._ + + "Professor Ely's volume deserves the careful study of + manufacturers and employers of labor especially. It deals + with well authenticated facts more than theories--a + remarkable and timely book."--_Boston Traveller._ + + "His treatment is broad and comprehensive, dealing with the + fundamental questions of the labor movement to the exclusion + of such minor and incidental topics as are often prone to + intrude themselves into a discussion of this + nature."--_School Journal._ + + "We believe it will have a positive effect in helping to + maintain kindly relations between the laborer and his + employer."--_Troy Times._ + + "It is without doubt the most complete historical sketch yet + published of the origin and growth both of socialism and of + labor organizations."--_New York Observer._ + + "Heartily commended to the careful attention of all concerned + in the labor question, whether employers or + employed."--_Cleveland Plaindealer._ + + +_For Sale by all Booksellers._ + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO., 13 Astor Place, New York. + + * * * * * + + + + +MRS. SHILLABER'S COOK-BOOK. + +_A PRACTICAL GUIDE FOR HOUSEKEEPERS._ + +By Mrs. LYDIA SHILLABER. With an Introduction by Mrs. PARTINGTON. + +12mo, cloth, $1.25. Kitchen Edition, In Oilcloth, $1.25. Fourth Edition now +ready. + +_Extract from Mrs. Partington's Introduction._ + +"Well, well," said Mrs. Partington, her spectacles beaming with delight as +she turned over the leaves of the new cookery book, "I declare it excites +my salivation glands even to read the names of these good things. It seems +as though the greatest epicac might find something among all these meats +and cosmetics to give a jest to appetite.... Now a book like this will come +into a house like an oasis in the desert of the great Sahara, and be a +quarantine of perpetual peace." + + "Has the best characteristic of simplicity, variety, and + usefulness."--_Boston Journal._ + + "A thoroughly intelligible and practical guide for young + housekeepers."--_Boston Advertiser._ + + "The most sensible cook-book of the season."--_Journal of + Education._ + + "Numerous household hints in the book, which of themselves + make it valuable."--_Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph._ + + "The work will certainly commend itself to the + housekeeper."--_American Hebrew._ + + "To all in the culinary work this is a model guide."--_Ohio + State Journal._ + + "A formidable rival of the numerous works of its + kind."--_Christian Index._ + +THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. + +13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Russian Proprietor, by Lyof N. Tolstoi + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41119 *** |