initial commit of ebook 8871HEADmain

1 files changed, 9038 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/8871.txt b/8871.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3444847
--- /dev/null
+++ b/8871.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9038 @@
+Project Gutenberg's A Desperate Character and Other Stories, by Ivan Turgenev
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Desperate Character and Other Stories
+
+Author: Ivan Turgenev
+
+Translator: Constance Garnett
+
+
+Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8871]
+This file was first posted on August 17, 2003
+Last Updated: April 23, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DESPERATE CHARACTER AND ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A DESPERATE CHARACTER, AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By Ivan Turgenev
+
+Translated from the Russian By Constance Garnett
+
+
+1899
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF IVAN TURGENEV
+
+Complete in Fifteen Volumes.
+
+           i. Rudin.
+          ii. A House of Gentlefolk.
+         iii. On the Eve.
+          iv. Fathers and Children.
+           v. Smoke.
+   vi. & vii. Virgin Soil. 2 Vols.
+  viii, & ix. A Sportsman's Sketches. 2 Vols.
+           x. Dream Tales and Prose Poems.
+          xi. The Torrents of Spring and other Stories.
+         xii. A Lear of the Steppes and other Stories.
+        xiii. The Diary of a Superfluous Man and other Stories.
+         xiv. A Desperate Character and other Tales.
+          xv. The Jew and other Stories.
+
+
+
+TO JOSEPH CONRAD
+
+WHOSE ART IN ESSENCE OFTEN RECALLS
+
+THE ART AND ESSENCE OF TURGENEV
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+The six tales now translated for the English reader were written by
+Turgenev at various dates between 1847 and 1881. Their chronological
+order is:--
+
+
+_Pyetushkov_,  1847
+
+_The Brigadier_,  1867
+
+_A Strange Story_,  1869
+
+_Punin and Baburin_,  1874
+
+_Old Portraits_,  1881
+
+_A Desperate Character_,  1881
+
+
+_Pyetushkov_ is the work of a young man of twenty-nine, and its lively,
+unstrained realism is so bold, intimate, and delicate as to contradict
+the flattering compliment that the French have paid to one another--that
+Turgenev had need to dress his art by the aid of French mirrors.
+
+Although _Pyetushkov_ shows us, by a certain open _naivete_ of style,
+that a youthful hand is at work, it is the hand of a young master,
+carrying out the realism of the 'forties'--that of Gogol, Balzac, and
+Dickens--straightway, with finer point, to find a perfect equilibrium
+free from any bias or caricature. The whole strength and essence of the
+realistic method has been developed in _Pyetushkov_ to its just limits.
+The Russians are _instinctive_ realists, and carry the warmth of life
+into their pages, which warmth the French seem to lose in clarifying
+their impressions and crystallising them in art. _Pyetushkov_ is not
+exquisite: it is irresistible. Note how the reader is transported bodily
+into Pyetushkov's stuffy room, and how the major fairly boils out of the
+two pages he lives in! (pp. 301, 302). That is _realism_ if you like. A
+woman will see the point of _Pyetushkov_ very quickly. Onisim and
+Vassilissa and the aunt walk and chatter around the stupid Pyetushkov,
+and glance at him significantly in a manner that reveals everything
+about these people's world. All the servants who appear in the tales in
+this volume are hit off so marvellously that one sees the lower-class
+world, which is such a mystery to certain refined minds, has no secrets
+for Turgenev.
+
+Of a different, and to our taste more fascinating, _genre_ is _The
+Brigadier_. It is greater art because life's prosaic growth is revealed
+not merely realistically, but also poetically, life as a tiny part of
+the great universe around it. The tale is a microcosm of Turgenev's own
+nature; his love of Nature, his tender sympathy for all humble, ragged,
+eccentric, despised human creatures; his unfaltering keenness of gaze
+into character, his fine sense of proportion, mingle in. _The
+Brigadier_, to create for us a sense of the pitiableness of man's tiny
+life, of the mere human seed which springs and spreads a while on earth,
+and dies under the menacing gaze of the advancing years. 'Out of the
+sweetness came forth strength' is perhaps the best saying by which one
+can define Turgenev's peculiar merits in _The Brigadier_.
+
+_Punin and Baburin_ presents to us again one of those ragged ones, one
+of 'the poor in spirit,' the idealist Punin, a character whose portrait
+challenges Dostoievsky's skill on the latter's own ground. That
+delicious Punin! and that terrible grandmother's scene with Baburin! How
+absolutely Slav is the blending of irony and kindness in the treatment
+of Punin, Cucumber, and Pyetushkov, few English readers will understand.
+All the characters in _Punin and Baburin_ are so strongly drawn, so
+intensely alive, that, like Rembrandt's portraits, they make the living
+people, who stand looking at them, absurdly grey and lifeless by
+comparison! Baburin is a Nihilist before the times of Nihilism, he is a
+type of the strong characters that arose later in the movement of the
+'eighties.'
+
+A pre-Nihilistic type is also the character of Sophie in _A Strange
+Story_. But the chief value of this last psychological study is that it
+gives the English mind a clue to the fundamental distinction that marks
+off the Russian people from the peoples of the West. Sophie's
+words--'You spoke of the will--that's what must be broken' (p.
+61)--define most admirably the deepest aspiration of the Russian soul.
+To be lowly and suffering, to be despised, sick, to be under the lash of
+fate, to be trampled under foot by others, _to be_ unworthy, all this
+secret desire of the Russian soul implies that the Russian has little
+_will_, that he finds it easier to resign himself than to make the
+effort to be powerful, triumphant, worthy. It is from the resignation
+and softness of the Russian nature that all its characteristic virtues
+spring. Whereas religion with the English mind is largely an anxiety to
+be moral, to be _right_ and righteous, to be 'a chosen vessel of the
+Lord,' religion with the Russian implies a genuine abasement and loss of
+self, a bowing before the will of Heaven, and true brotherly love. The
+Western mind rises to greatness by concentrating the will-power in
+action, by assertion of all its inner force, by shutting out forcibly
+whatever might dominate or distract or weaken it. But the Russian mind,
+through its lack of character, will-power, and hardness, rises to
+greatness in its acceptance of life, and in its sympathy with all the
+unfortunate, the wretched, the poor in spirit. Of course in practical
+life the Russian lacks many of the useful virtues the Western peoples
+possess and has most of their vices; but certainly his pity, charity,
+and brotherliness towards men more unfortunate than himself largely
+spring from his fatalistic acceptance of his own unworthiness and
+weakness. So in Sophie's case the desire for self-sacrifice, and her
+impregnable conviction that to suffer and endure is _right_, is truly
+Russian in the sense of letting the individuality go _with_ the stream
+of fate, not _against_ it. And hence the formidable spirit of the
+youthful generation that sacrificed itself in the Nihilistic movement:
+the strenuous action of 'the youth' once set in movement, the spirit of
+self-sacrifice impelled it calmly towards its goal despite all the
+forces and threats of fate. Sophie is indeed an early Nihilist born
+before her time.
+
+We have said that the lack of will in the Russian nature is at the root
+of Russian virtues and vices, and in this connection it is curious to
+remark that a race's soul seems often to grow out of the race's
+_aspiration towards what it is not in life_. Is not the French
+intellect, for example, so cool, clear-headed, so delicately analytic of
+its own motives, that through the principle of _counterpoise_ it strives
+to lose itself and release itself in continual rhetoric and emotional
+positions? Is not the German mind so alive to the material facts of
+life, to the necessity of getting hold of concrete advantages in life,
+and of not letting them go, that it deliberately slackens the bent bow,
+and plunges itself and relaxes itself in floods of abstractions, and
+idealisations, and dreams of sentimentality? Assuredly it is because the
+Russian is so inwardly discontented with his own actions that he is such
+a keen and incisive critic of everything _false_ and exaggerated, that
+he despises all French rhetoric and German sentimentalism. And in this
+sense it is that the Russian's lack of will comes in to deepen his soul.
+He surrenders himself thereby to the universe, and, as do the Asiatics,
+does not let the tiny shadow of his fate, dark though it may be, shut
+out the universe so thoroughly from his consciousness, as does the
+aggressive struggling will-power of the Western man striving to let his
+individuality have full play. The Russian's attitude may indeed be
+compared to a bowl which catches and sustains what life brings it; and
+the Western man's to a bowl inverted to ward off what drops from the
+impassive skies. The mental attitude of the Russian peasant indeed
+implies that in blood he is nearer akin to the Asiatics than Russian
+ethnologists have wished to allow. Certainly in the inner life of
+thought, intellectually, morally, and emotionally, he is a half-way
+house between the Western and Eastern races, just as geographically he
+spreads over the two continents. By natural law his destiny calls him
+towards the East. Should he one day spread his rule further and further
+among the Asiatics and hold the keys of an immense Asiatic empire, well!
+future English philosophers may feel thereat a curious fatalistic
+satisfaction.
+
+EDWARD GARNETT.
+
+_October_ 1899.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+     A DESPERATE CHARACTER
+     A STRANGE STORY
+     PUNIN AND BABURIN
+     OLD PORTRAITS
+     THE BRIGADIER
+     PYETUSHKOV
+
+
+
+
+
+A DESPERATE CHARACTER
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+... We were a party of eight in the room, and we were talking of
+contemporary affairs and men.
+
+'I don't understand these men!' observed A.: 'they're such desperate
+fellows.... Really desperate.... There has never been anything like
+it before.'
+
+'Yes, there has,' put in P., a man getting on in years, with grey hair,
+born some time in the twenties of this century: 'there were desperate
+characters in former days too, only they were not like the desperate
+fellows of to-day. Of the poet Yazikov some one has said that he had
+enthusiasm, but not applied to anything--an enthusiasm without an
+object. So it was with those people--their desperateness was without an
+object. But there, if you'll allow me, I'll tell you the story of my
+nephew, or rather cousin, Misha Poltyev. It may serve as an example of
+the desperate characters of those days.
+
+He came into God's world, I remember, in 1828, at his father's native
+place and property, in one of the sleepiest corners of a sleepy province
+of the steppes. Misha's father, Andrei Nikolaevitch Poltyev, I remember
+well to this day. He was a genuine old-world landowner, a God-fearing,
+sedate man, fairly--for those days--well educated, just a little
+cracked, to tell the truth--and, moreover, he suffered from epilepsy....
+That too is an old-world, gentlemanly complaint.... Andrei
+Nikolaevitch's fits were, however, slight, and generally ended in sleep
+and depression. He was good-hearted, and of an affable demeanour, not
+without a certain stateliness: I always pictured to myself the tsar
+Mihail Fedorovitch as like him. The whole life of Andrei Nikolaevitch
+was passed in the punctual fulfilment of every observance established
+from old days, in strict conformity with all the usages of the old
+orthodox holy Russian mode of life. He got up and went to bed, ate his
+meals, and went to his bath, rejoiced or was wroth (both very rarely, it
+is true), even smoked his pipe and played cards (two great
+innovations!), not after his own fancy, not in a way of his own, but
+according to the custom and ordinance of his fathers--with due decorum
+and formality. He was tall, well built, and stout; his voice was soft
+and rather husky, as is so often the case with virtuous people in
+Russia; he was scrupulously neat in his dress and linen, and wore white
+cravats and full-skirted snuff-coloured coats, but his noble blood was
+nevertheless evident; no one could have taken him for a priest's son or
+a merchant! At all times, on all possible occasions, and in all possible
+contingencies, Andrei Nikolaevitch knew without fail what ought to be
+done, what was to be said, and precisely what expressions were to be
+used; he knew when he ought to take medicine, and just what he ought to
+take; what omens were to be believed and what might be disregarded ...
+in fact, he knew everything that ought to be done.... For as everything
+had been provided for and laid down by one's elders, one had only to be
+sure not to imagine anything of one's self.... And above all, without
+God's blessing not a step to be taken!--It must be confessed that a
+deadly dulness reigned supreme in his house, in those low-pitched, warm,
+dark rooms, that so often resounded with the singing of liturgies and
+all-night services, and had the smell of incense and Lenten dishes
+almost always hanging about them!
+
+Andrei Nikolaevitch--no longer in his first youth--married a young
+lady of a neighbouring family, without fortune, a very nervous and
+sickly person, who had had a boarding-school education. She played the
+piano fairly, spoke boarding-school French, was easily moved to
+enthusiasm, and still more easily to melancholy and even tears....
+She was of unbalanced character, in fact. She regarded her life as
+wasted, could not care for her husband, who, 'of course,' did not
+understand her; but she respected him, ... she put up with him; and
+being perfectly honest and perfectly cold, she never even dreamed of
+another 'affection.' Besides, she was always completely engrossed in
+the care, first, of her own really delicate health, secondly, of the
+health of her husband, whose fits always inspired in her something
+like superstitious horror, and lastly, of her only son, Misha, whom
+she brought up herself with great zeal. Andrei Nikolaevitch did not
+oppose his wife's looking after Misha, on the one condition of his
+education never over-stepping the lines laid down, once and for all,
+within which everything must move in his house! Thus, for instance, at
+Christmas-time, and at New Year, and St. Vassily's eve, it was
+permissible for Misha to dress up and masquerade with the servant
+boys--and not only permissible, but even a binding duty.... But, at
+any other time, God forbid! and so on, and so on.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+I remember Misha at thirteen. He was a very pretty boy, with rosy little
+cheeks and soft lips (indeed he was soft and plump-looking all over),
+with prominent liquid eyes, carefully brushed and combed, caressing and
+modest--a regular little girl! There was only one thing about him I did
+not like: he rarely laughed; but when he did laugh, his teeth--large
+white teeth, pointed like an animal's--showed disagreeably, and the
+laugh itself had an abrupt, even savage, almost animal sound, and there
+were unpleasant gleams in his eyes. His mother was always praising him
+for being so obedient and well behaved, and not caring to make friends
+with rude boys, but always preferring feminine society. 'A mother's
+darling, a milksop,' his father, Andrei Nikolaevitch, would call him;
+'but he's always ready to go into the house of God.... And that I am
+glad to see.' Only one old neighbour, who had been a police captain,
+once said before me, speaking of Misha, 'Mark my words, he'll be a
+rebel.' And this saying, I remember, surprised me very much at the time.
+The old police captain, it is true, used to see rebels on all sides.
+
+Just such an exemplary youth Misha continued to be till the eighteenth
+year of his age, up to the death of his parents, both of whom he lost
+almost on the same day. As I was all the while living constantly at
+Moscow, I heard nothing of my young kinsman. An acquaintance coming from
+his province did, it is true, inform me that Misha had sold the paternal
+estate for a trifling sum; but this piece of news struck me as too
+wildly improbable! And behold, all of a sudden, one autumn morning there
+flew into the courtyard of my house a carriage, with a pair of splendid
+trotting horses, and a coachman of monstrous size on the box; and in the
+carriage, wrapped in a cloak of military cut, with a beaver collar two
+yards deep, and with a foraging cap cocked on one side, _a la diable
+m'emporte_, sat ... Misha! On catching sight of me (I was standing at
+the drawing-room window, gazing in astonishment at the flying equipage),
+he laughed his abrupt laugh, and jauntily flinging back his cloak, he
+jumped out of the carriage and ran into the house.
+
+'Misha! Mihail Andreevitch!' I was beginning, ... 'Is it you?'
+
+'Call me Misha,'--he interrupted me. 'Yes, it's I, ... I, in my own
+person.... I have come to Moscow ... to see the world ... and show
+myself. And here I am, come to see you. What do you say to my
+horses?... Eh?' he laughed again.
+
+Though it was seven years since I had seen Misha last, I recognised him
+at once. His face had remained just as youthful and as pretty as
+ever--there was no moustache even visible; only his cheeks looked a
+little swollen under his eyes, and a smell of spirits came from his
+lips. 'Have you been long in Moscow?' I inquired.
+
+'I supposed you were at home in the country, looking after the
+place.' ...
+
+'Eh! The country I threw up at once! As soon as my parents died--may
+their souls rest in peace--(Misha crossed himself scrupulously, without
+a shade of mockery) at once, without a moment's delay, ... _ein, zwei,
+drei!_ ha, ha! I let it go cheap, damn it! A rascally fellow turned up.
+But it's no matter! Anyway, I am living as I fancy, and amusing other
+people. But why are you staring at me like that? Was I, really, to go
+dragging on in the same old round, do you suppose? ... My dear fellow,
+couldn't I have a glass of something?'
+
+Misha spoke fearfully quick and hurriedly, and, at the same time, as
+though he were only just waked up from sleep.
+
+'Misha, upon my word!' I wailed; 'have you no fear of God? What do you
+look like? What an attire! And you ask for a glass too! And to sell such
+a fine estate for next to nothing....'
+
+'God I fear always, and do not forget,' he broke in.... 'But He is good,
+you know--God is.... He will forgive! And I am good too.... I have
+never yet hurt any one in my life. And drink is good too; and as for
+hurting,... it never hurt any one either. And my get-up is quite the most
+correct thing.... Uncle, would you like me to show you I can walk
+straight? Or to do a little dance?'
+
+'Oh, spare me, please! A dance, indeed! You'd better sit down.'
+
+'As to that, I'll sit down with pleasure.... But why do you say nothing
+of my greys? Just look at them, they're perfect lions! I've got them on
+hire for the time, but I shall buy them for certain, ... and the
+coachman too.... It's ever so much cheaper to have one's own horses. And
+I had the money, but I lost it yesterday at faro. It's no matter, I'll
+make it up to-morrow. Uncle, ... how about that little glass?'
+
+I was still unable to get over my amazement. 'Really, Misha, how old are
+you? You ought not to be thinking about horses or cards, ... but going
+into the university or the service.'
+
+Misha first laughed again, then gave vent to a prolonged whistle.
+
+'Well, uncle, I see you're in a melancholy humour to-day. I'll come
+back another time. But I tell you what: you come in the evening to
+Sokolniki. I've a tent pitched there. The gypsies sing, ... such
+goings-on.... And there's a streamer on the tent, and on the streamer,
+written in large letters: "The Troupe of Poltyev's Gypsies." The
+streamer coils like a snake, the letters are of gold, attractive for
+every one to read. A free entertainment--whoever likes to come! ... No
+refusal! I'm making the dust fly in Moscow ... to my glory! ... Eh? will
+you come? Ah, I've one girl there ... a serpent! Black as your boot,
+spiteful as a dog, and eyes ... like living coals! One can never tell
+what she's going to do--kiss or bite! ... Will you come, uncle? ...
+Well, good-bye, till we meet!'
+
+And with a sudden embrace, and a smacking kiss on my shoulder, Misha
+darted away into the courtyard, and into the carriage, waved his cap
+over his head, hallooed,--the monstrous coachman leered at him over his
+beard, the greys dashed off, and all vanished!
+
+The next day I--like a sinner--set off to Sokolniki, and did actually
+see the tent with the streamer and the inscription. The drapery of the
+tent was raised; from it came clamour, creaking, and shouting. Crowds of
+people were thronging round it. On a carpet spread on the ground sat
+gypsies, men and women, singing and beating drums, and in the midst of
+them, in a red silk shirt and velvet breeches, was Misha, holding a
+guitar, dancing a jig. 'Gentlemen! honoured friends! walk in, please!
+the performance is just beginning! Free to all!' he was shouting in a
+high, cracked voice. 'Hey! champagne! pop! a pop on the head! pop up to
+the ceiling! Ha! you rogue there, Paul de Kock!'
+
+Luckily he did not see me, and I hastily made off.
+
+I won't enlarge on my astonishment at the spectacle of this
+transformation. But, how was it actually possible for that quiet and
+modest boy to change all at once into a drunken buffoon? Could it all
+have been latent in him from childhood, and have come to the surface
+directly the yoke of his parents' control was removed? But that he had
+made the dust fly in Moscow, as he expressed it--of that, certainly,
+there could be no doubt. I have seen something of riotous living in my
+day; but in this there was a sort of violence, a sort of frenzy of
+self-destruction, a sort of desperation!
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+For two months these diversions continued.... And once more I was
+standing at my drawing-room window, looking into the courtyard.... All
+of a sudden--what could it mean? ... there came slowly stepping in at the
+gate a pilgrim ... a squash hat pulled down on his forehead, his hair
+combed out straight to right and left below it, a long gown, a leather
+belt ... Could it be Misha? He it was!
+
+I went to meet him on the steps.... 'What's this masquerade for?'
+I demanded.
+
+'It's not a masquerade, uncle,' Misha answered with a deep sigh: since
+all I had I've squandered to the last farthing--and a great repentance
+too has come upon me--so I have resolved to go to the Sergiev monastery
+of the Holy Trinity to expiate my sins in prayer. For what refuge was
+left me? ... And so I have come to you to say good-bye, uncle, like a
+prodigal son.'
+
+I looked intently at Misha. His face was just the same, rosy and fresh
+(indeed it remained almost unchanged to the end), and the eyes, liquid,
+affectionate, and languishing--and the hands, as small and white.... But
+he smelt of spirits.
+
+'Well,' I pronounced at last, 'it's a good thing to do--since there's
+nothing else to be done. But why is it you smell of spirits?'
+
+'A relic of the past,' answered Misha, and he suddenly laughed, but
+immediately pulled himself up, and, making a straight, low bow--a monk's
+bow--he added: 'Won't you help me on my way? I'm going, see, on foot to
+the monastery....'
+
+'When?'
+
+'To-day ... at once.'
+
+'Why be in such a hurry?'
+
+'Uncle, my motto always was, "Make haste, make haste!"'
+
+'But what is your motto now?'
+
+'It's the same now.... Only, make haste towards _good_!'
+
+And so Misha went off, leaving me to ponder on the vicissitudes of
+human destiny.
+
+But he soon reminded me of his existence. Two months after his visit, I
+got a letter from him, the first of those letters, of which later on he
+furnished me with so abundant a supply. And note a peculiar fact: I
+have seldom seen a neater, more legible handwriting than that
+unbalanced fellow's. And the wording of his letters was exceedingly
+correct, just a little flowery. Invariable entreaties for assistance,
+always attended with resolutions to reform, vows, and promises on his
+honour.... All of it seemed--and perhaps was--sincere. Misha's
+signature to his letters was always accompanied by peculiar strokes,
+flourishes, and stops, and he made great use of marks of exclamation.
+In this first letter Misha informed me of a new 'turn in his fortune.'
+(Later on he used to refer to these turns as plunges, ... and frequent
+were the plunges he took.) He was starting for the Caucasus on active
+service for his tsar and his country in the capacity of a cadet! And,
+though a certain benevolent aunt had entered into his impecunious
+position, and had sent him an inconsiderable sum, still he begged me to
+assist him in getting his equipment. I did what he asked, and for two
+years I heard nothing more of him.
+
+I must own I had the gravest doubts as to his having gone to the
+Caucasus. But it turned out that he really had gone there, had, by
+favour, got into the T---- regiment as a cadet, and had been serving in
+it for those two years. A perfect series of legends had sprung up there
+about him. An officer of his regiment related them to me.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+I learned a great deal which I should never have expected of him.--I
+was, of course, hardly surprised that as a military man, as an officer,
+he was not a success, that he was in fact worse than useless; but what I
+had not anticipated was that he was by no means conspicuous for much
+bravery; that in battle he had a downcast, woebegone air, seemed
+half-depressed, half-bewildered. Discipline of every sort worried him,
+and made him miserable; he was daring to the point of insanity when only
+his _own personal_ safety was in question; no bet was too mad for him to
+accept; but do harm to others, kill, fight, he could not, possibly
+because his heart was too good--or possibly because his 'cottonwool'
+education (so he expressed it), had made him too soft. Himself he was
+quite ready to murder in any way at any moment.... But others--no.
+'There's no making him out,' his comrades said of him; 'he's a flabby
+creature, a poor stick--and yet such a desperate fellow--a perfect
+madman!' I chanced in later days to ask Misha what evil spirit
+drove him, forced him, to drink to excess, risk his life, and so
+on. He always had one answer--'wretchedness.'
+
+'But why are you wretched?'
+
+'Why! how can you ask? If one comes, anyway, to one's self, begins to
+feel, to think of the poverty, of the injustice, of Russia.... Well,
+it's all over with me! ... one's so wretched at once--one wants to put a
+bullet through one's head! One's forced to start drinking.'
+
+'Why ever do you drag Russia in?'
+
+'How can I help it? Can't be helped! That's why I'm afraid to think.'
+
+'It all comes, and your wretchedness too, from having nothing to do.'
+
+'But I don't know how to do anything, uncle! dear fellow! Take one's
+life, and stake it on a card--that I can do! Come, you tell me what I
+ought to do, what to risk my life for? This instant ... I'll ...'
+
+'But you must simply live.... Why risk your life?'
+
+'I can't! You say I act thoughtlessly.... But what else can I do? ... If
+one starts thinking--good God, all that comes into one's head! It's only
+Germans who can think! ...'
+
+What use was it talking to him? He was a desperate man, and that's all
+one can say.
+
+Of the Caucasus legends I have spoken about, I will tell you two or
+three. One day, in a party of officers, Misha began boasting of a sabre
+he had got by exchange--'a genuine Persian blade!' The officers
+expressed doubts as to its genuineness. Misha began disputing. 'Here
+then,' he cried at last; 'they say the man that knows most about sabres
+is Abdulka the one-eyed. I'll go to him, and ask.' The officers
+wondered. 'What Abdulka? Do you mean that lives in the mountains? The
+rebel never subdued? Abdul-khan?' 'Yes, that's him.' 'Why, but he'll
+take you for a spy, will put you in a hole full of bugs, or else cut
+your head off with your own sabre. And, besides, how are you going to
+get to him? They'll catch you directly.' 'I'll go to him, though, all
+the same.' 'Bet you won't!' 'Taken!' And Misha promptly saddled his
+horse and rode off to Abdulka. He disappeared for three days. All felt
+certain that the crazy fellow had come by his end. But, behold! he came
+back--drunk, and with a sabre, not the one he had taken, but another.
+They began questioning him. 'It was all right,' said he; 'Abdulka's a
+nice fellow. At first, it's true, he ordered them to put irons on my
+legs, and was even on the point of having me impaled. Only, I explained
+why I had come, and showed him the sabre. "And you'd better not keep
+me," said I; "don't expect a ransom for me; I've not a farthing to bless
+myself with--and I've no relations." Abdulka was surprised; he looked at
+me with his solitary eye. "Well," said he, "you are a bold one, you
+Russian; am I to believe you?" "You may believe me," said I; "I never
+tell a lie." (And this was true; Misha never lied.) Abdulka looked at me
+again. "And do you know how to drink wine?" "I do," said I; "give me as
+much as you will, I'll drink it." Abdulka was surprised again; he called
+on Allah. And he told his--daughter, I suppose--such a pretty creature,
+only with an eye like a jackal's--to bring a wine-skin. And I began to
+get to work on it. "But your sabre," said he, "isn't genuine; here, take
+the real thing. And now we are pledged friends." But you've lost your
+bet, gentlemen; pay up.'
+
+The second legend of Misha is of this nature. He was passionately fond
+of cards; but as he had no money, and could never pay his debts at cards
+(though he was never a card-sharper), no one at last would sit down to a
+game with him. So one day he began urgently begging one of his comrades
+among the officers to play with him! 'But if you lose, you don't pay.'
+'The money certainly I can't pay, but I'll put a shot through my left
+hand, see, with this pistol here!' 'But whatever use will that be to
+me?' 'No use, but still it will be curious.' This conversation took
+place after a drinking bout in the presence of witnesses. Whether it was
+that Misha's proposition struck the officer as really curious--anyway he
+agreed. Cards were brought, the game began. Misha was in luck; he won a
+hundred roubles. And thereupon his opponent struck his forehead with
+vexation. 'What an ass I am!' he cried, 'to be taken in like this! As if
+you'd have shot your hand if you had lost!--a likely story! hold out
+your purse!' 'That's a lie,' retorted Misha: 'I've won--but I'll shoot
+my hand.' He snatched up his pistol--and bang, fired at his own hand.
+The bullet passed right through it ... and in a week the wound had
+completely healed.
+
+Another time, Misha was riding with his comrades along a road at
+night ... and they saw close to the roadside a narrow ravine like a deep
+cleft, dark--so dark you couldn't see the bottom. 'Look,' said one of
+the officers, 'Misha may be a desperate fellow, but he wouldn't leap
+into that ravine.' 'Yes, I'd leap in!' 'No, you wouldn't, for I dare say
+it's seventy feet deep, and you might break your neck.' His friend knew
+his weak point--vanity.... There was a great deal of it in Misha. 'But
+I'll leap in anyway! Would you like to bet on it? Ten roubles.' 'Good!'
+And the officer had hardly uttered the word, when Misha and his horse
+were off--into the ravine--and crashing down over the stones. All were
+simply petrified.... A full minute passed, and they heard Misha's voice,
+dimly, as it were rising up out of the bowels of the earth: 'All right!
+fell on the sand ... but it was a long flight! Ten roubles you've lost!'
+
+'Climb out!' shouted his comrades. 'Climb out, I dare say!' echoed
+Misha. 'A likely story! I should like to see you climb out. You'll have
+to go for torches and ropes now. And, meanwhile, to keep up my spirits
+while I wait, fling down a flask....'
+
+And so Misha had to stay five hours at the bottom of the ravine; and
+when they dragged him out, it turned out that his shoulder was
+dislocated. But that in no way troubled him. The next day a bone-setter,
+one of the black-smiths, set his shoulder, and he used it as though
+nothing had been the matter.
+
+His health in general was marvellous, incredible. I have already
+mentioned that up to the time of his death he kept his almost childishly
+fresh complexion. Illness was a thing unknown to him, in spite of his
+excesses; the strength of his constitution never once showed signs of
+giving way. When any other man would infallibly have been seriously ill,
+or even have died, he merely shook himself, like a duck in the water,
+and was more blooming than ever. Once, also in the Caucasus ... _this_
+legend is really incredible, but one may judge from it what Misha was
+thought to be capable of.... Well, once, in the Caucasus, in a state of
+drunkenness, he fell down with the lower half of his body in a stream of
+water; his head and arms were on the bank, out of water. It was
+winter-time, there was a hard frost, and when he was found next morning,
+his legs and body were pulled out from under a thick layer of ice, which
+had formed over them in the night--and he didn't even catch cold!
+Another time--this was in Russia (near Orel, and also in a time of
+severe frost)--he was in a tavern outside the town in company with seven
+young seminarists (or theological students), and these seminarists were
+celebrating their final examination, but had invited Misha, as a
+delightful person, a man of 'inspiration,' as the phrase was then. A
+very great deal was drunk, and when at last the festive party got ready
+to depart, Misha, dead drunk, was in an unconscious condition. All the
+seven seminarists together had but one three-horse sledge with a high
+back; where were they to stow the unresisting body? Then one of the
+young men, inspired by classical reminiscences, proposed tying Misha by
+his feet to the back of the sledge, as Hector was tied to the chariot of
+Achilles! The proposal met with approval ... and jolting up and down
+over the holes, sliding sideways down the slopes, with his legs torn and
+flayed, and his head rolling in the snow, poor Misha travelled on his
+back for the mile and a half from the tavern to the town, and hadn't as
+much as a cough afterwards, hadn't turned a hair! Such heroic health had
+nature bestowed upon him!
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+From the Caucasus he came again to Moscow, in a Circassian dress, a
+dagger in his sash, a high-peaked cap on his head. This costume he
+retained to the end, though he was no longer in the army, from which he
+had been discharged for outstaying his leave. He stayed with me,
+borrowed a little money ... and forthwith began his 'plunges,' his
+wanderings, or, as he expressed it, 'his peregrinations from pillar to
+post,' then came the sudden disappearances and returns, and the showers
+of beautifully written letters addressed to people of every possible
+description, from an archbishop down to stable-boys and mid-wives! Then
+came calls upon persons known and unknown! And this is worth noticing:
+when he made these calls, he was never abject and cringing, he never
+worried people by begging, but on the contrary behaved with propriety,
+and had positively a cheerful and pleasant air, though the inveterate
+smell of spirits accompanied him everywhere, and his Oriental costume
+gradually changed into rags. 'Give, and God will reward you, though I
+don't deserve it,' he would say, with a bright smile and a candid blush;
+'if you don't give, you'll be perfectly right, and I shan't blame you
+for it. I shall find food to eat, God will provide! And there are people
+poorer than I, and much more deserving of help--plenty, plenty!' Misha
+was particularly successful with women: he knew how to appeal to their
+sympathy. But don't suppose that he was or fancied himself a
+Lovelace....Oh, no! in that way he was very modest. Whether it was that
+he had inherited a cool temperament from his parents, or whether indeed
+this too is to be set down to his dislike for doing any one harm--as,
+according to his notions, relations with a woman meant inevitably doing
+a woman harm--I won't undertake to decide; only in all his behaviour
+with the fair sex he was extremely delicate. Women felt this, and were
+the more ready to sympathise with him and help him, until at last he
+revolted them by his drunkenness and debauchery, by the desperateness of
+which I have spoken already.... I can think of no other word for it.
+
+But in other relations he had by that time lost every sort of delicacy,
+and was gradually sinking to the lowest depths of degradation. He once,
+in the public assembly at T----, got as far as setting on the table a
+jug with a notice: 'Any one, to whom it may seem agreeable to give the
+high-born nobleman Poltyev (authentic documents in proof of his
+pedigree are herewith exposed) a flip on the nose, may satisfy this
+inclination on putting a rouble into this jug.' And I am told there
+were persons found willing to pay for the privilege of flipping a
+nobleman's nose! It is true that one such person, who put in only one
+rouble and gave him _two_ flips, he first almost strangled, and then
+forced to apologise; it is true, too, that part of the money gained in
+this fashion he promptly distributed among other poor devils ... but
+still, think what a disgrace!
+
+In the course of his 'peregrinations from pillar to post,' he made his
+way, too, to his ancestral home, which he had sold for next to nothing
+to a speculator and money-lender well known in those days. The
+money-lender was at home, and hearing of the presence in the
+neighbourhood of the former owner, now reduced to vagrancy, he gave
+orders not to admit him into the house, and even, in case of necessity,
+to drive him away. Misha announced that he would not for his part
+consent to enter the house, polluted by the presence of so repulsive a
+person; that he would permit no one to drive him away, but was going to
+the churchyard to pay his devotions at the grave of his parents. So in
+fact he did.
+
+In the churchyard he was joined by an old house-serf, who had once been
+his nurse. The money-lender had deprived this old man of his monthly
+allowance, and driven him off the estate; since then his refuge had been
+a corner in a peasant's hut. Misha had been too short a time in
+possession of his estate to have left behind him a particularly
+favourable memory; still the old servant could not resist running to the
+churchyard as soon as he heard of his young master's being there. He
+found Misha sitting on the ground between the tombstones, asked for his
+hand to kiss, as in old times, and even shed tears on seeing the rags
+which clothed the limbs of his once pampered young charge.
+
+Misha gazed long and silently at the old man. 'Timofay!' he said at
+last; Timofay started.
+
+'What do you desire?'
+
+'Have you a spade?'
+
+'I can get one.... But what do you want with a spade, Mihailo
+Andreitch, sir?'
+
+'I want to dig myself a grave, Timofay, and to lie here for time
+everlasting between my father and mother. There's only this spot left me
+in the world. Get a spade!'
+
+'Yes, sir,' said Timofay; he went and got it. And Misha began at once
+digging in the ground, while Timofay stood by, his chin propped in his
+hand, repeating: 'It's all that's left for you and me, master!'
+
+Misha dug and dug, from time to time observing: 'Life's not worth
+living, is it, Timofay?'
+
+'It's not indeed, master.'
+
+The hole was already of a good depth. People saw what Misha was about,
+and ran to tell the new owner about it. The money-lender was at first
+very angry, wanted to send for the police: 'This is sacrilege,' said he.
+But afterwards, probably reflecting that it was inconvenient anyway to
+have to do with such a madman, and that it might lead to a scandal,--he
+went in his own person to the churchyard, and approaching Misha, still
+toiling, made him a polite bow. He went on with his digging as though he
+had not noticed his successor. 'Mihail Andreitch,' began the
+money-lender, 'allow me to ask what you are doing here?'
+
+'You can see--I am digging myself a grave.'
+
+'Why are you doing so?'
+
+'Because I don't want to live any longer.'
+
+The money-lender fairly threw up his hands in amazement. 'You don't
+want to live?'
+
+Misha glanced menacingly at the money-lender. 'That surprises you?
+Aren't you the cause of it all? ... You? ... You? ... Wasn't it you,
+Judas, who robbed me, taking advantage of my childishness? Aren't you
+flaying the peasants' skins off their backs? Haven't you taken from
+this poor old man his crust of dry bread? Wasn't it you? ... O God!
+everywhere nothing but injustice, and oppression, and evil-doing....
+Everything must go to ruin then, and me too! I don't care for life, I
+don't care for life in Russia!' And the spade moved faster than ever in
+Misha's hands.
+
+'Here's a devil of a business!' thought the money-lender; 'he's
+positively burying himself alive.' 'Mihail Andreevitch,' he began
+again: 'listen. I've been behaving badly to you, indeed; they told me
+falsely of you.'
+
+Misha went on digging.
+
+'But why be desperate?'
+
+Misha still went on digging, and kept throwing the earth at the
+money-lender's feet, as though to say, 'Here you are, land-grabber.'
+
+'Really, you 're wrong in this. Won't you be pleased to come in to have
+some lunch, and rest a bit?'
+
+Misha raised his head. 'So that's it now! And anything to drink?'
+
+The money-lender was delighted. 'Why, of course ... I should think so.'
+
+'You invite Timofay too?'
+
+'Well, ... yes, him too.'
+
+Misha pondered. 'Only, mind ... you made me a beggar, you know.... Don't
+think you can get off with one bottle!'
+
+'Set your mind at rest ... there shall be all you can want.'
+
+Misha got up and flung down the spade.... 'Well, Timosha,' said he to
+his old nurse; 'let's do honour to our host.... Come along.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' answered the old man.
+
+And all three started off to the house together. The money-lender knew
+the man he had to deal with. At the first start Misha, it is true,
+exacted a promise from him to 'grant all sorts of immunities' to the
+peasants; but an hour later, this same Misha, together with Timofay,
+both drunk, were dancing a galop in the big apartments, which still
+seemed pervaded by the God-fearing shade of Andrei Nikolaevitch; and an
+hour later still, Misha in a dead sleep (he had a very weak head for
+spirits), laid in a cart with his high cap and dagger, was being driven
+off to the town, more than twenty miles away, and there was flung under
+a hedge.... As for Timofay, who could still keep on his legs, and only
+hiccupped--him, of course, they kicked out of the house; since they
+couldn't get at the master, they had to be content with the old servant.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+Some time passed again, and I heard nothing of Misha.... God knows what
+he was doing. But one day, as I sat over the samovar at a
+posting-station on the T---- highroad, waiting for horses, I suddenly
+heard under the open window of the station room a hoarse voice, uttering
+in French the words: 'Monsieur ... monsieur ... prenez pitie d'un pauvre
+gentil-homme ruine.' ... I lifted my head, glanced.... The
+mangy-looking fur cap, the broken ornaments on the ragged Circassian
+dress, the dagger in the cracked sheath, the swollen, but still rosy
+face, the dishevelled, but still thick crop of hair.... Mercy on us!
+Misha! He had come then to begging alms on the high-roads. I could not
+help crying out. He recognised me, started, turned away, and was about
+to move away from the window. I stopped him ... but what could I say to
+him? Give him a lecture? ... In silence I held out a five-rouble note;
+he, also in silence, took it in his still white and plump, though
+shaking and dirty hand, and vanished round the corner of the house.
+
+It was a good while before they gave me horses, and I had time to give
+myself up to gloomy reflections on my unexpected meeting with Misha; I
+felt ashamed of having let him go so unsympathetically.
+
+At last I set off on my way, and half a mile from the station I observed
+ahead of me, in the road, a crowd of people moving along with a curious,
+as it seemed rhythmic, step. I overtook this crowd--and what did I see?
+
+Some dozen or so beggars, with sacks over their shoulders, were walking
+two by two, singing and leaping about, while in front of them danced
+Misha, stamping time with his feet, and shouting, 'Natchiki-tchikaldy,
+tchuk, tchuk, tchuk! ... Natchiki-tchikaldy, tchuk, tchuk, tchuk!'
+Directly my carriage caught them up, and he saw me, he began at once
+shouting, 'Hurrah! Stand in position! right about face, guard of the
+roadside!'
+
+The beggars took up his shout, and halted; while he, with his peculiar
+laugh, jumped on to the carriage step, and again yelled: Hurrah!
+
+'What's the meaning of this?' I asked with involuntary astonishment.
+
+'This? This is my company, my army--all beggars, God's people, friends
+of my heart. Every one of them, thanks to you, has had a glass; and
+now we are all rejoicing and making merry! ... Uncle! Do you know it's
+only with beggars, God's people, that one can live in the world ... by
+God, it is!'
+
+I made him no answer ... but at that moment he struck me as such
+a kind good creature, his face expressed such childlike
+simple-heartedness.... A light seemed suddenly as it were to dawn upon
+me, and I felt a pang in my heart.... 'Get into the carriage,' I said
+to him. He was taken aback....
+
+'What? Into the carriage?'
+
+'Yes, get in, get in,' I repeated; 'I want to make you a suggestion. Sit
+down.... Come along with me.'
+
+'Well, as you will.' He sat down. 'Well, and you, my honoured friends,
+my dear comrades,' he added, addressing the beggars, 'fare-well, till we
+meet again.' Misha took off his high cap, and bowed low. The beggars all
+seemed overawed.... I told the coachman to whip up the horses, and the
+carriage rolled off.
+
+The suggestion I wanted to make Misha was this: the idea suddenly
+occurred to me to take him with me to my home in the country, about
+five-and-twenty miles from that station, to rescue him, or at least to
+make an effort to rescue him. 'Listen, Misha,' I said; 'will you come
+along and live with me? ... You shall have everything provided you; you
+shall have clothes and linen made you; you shall be properly fitted out,
+and you shall have money to spend on tobacco, and so on, only on one
+condition, that you give up drink.... Do you agree?'
+
+Misha was positively aghast with delight; he opened his eyes wide,
+flushed crimson, and suddenly falling on my shoulder, began kissing me,
+and repeating in a broken voice, 'Uncle ... benefactor ... God reward
+you.' ... He burst into tears at last, and taking off his cap fell to
+wiping his eyes, his nose, his lips with it.
+
+'Mind,' I observed; 'remember the condition, not to touch strong drink.'
+
+'Damnation to it!' he cried, with a wave of both arms, and with this
+impetuous movement, I was more than ever conscious of the strong smell
+of spirits with which he seemed always saturated.... 'Uncle, if you
+knew what my life has been.... If it hadn't been for sorrow, a cruel
+fate.... But now I swear, I swear, I will mend my ways, I will show
+you.... Uncle, I've never told a lie--you can ask whom you like.... I'm
+honest, but I'm an unlucky fellow, uncle; I've known no kindness from
+any one....'
+
+Here he broke down finally into sobs. I tried to soothe him, and
+succeeded so far that when we reached home Misha had long been lost in a
+heavy sleep, with his head on my knees.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+He was at once assigned a room for himself, and at once, first thing,
+taken to the bath, which was absolutely essential. All his clothes, and
+his dagger and cap and torn boots, were carefully put away in a loft; he
+was dressed in clean linen, slippers, and some clothes of mine, which,
+as is always the way with poor relations, at once seemed to adapt
+themselves to his size and figure. When he came to table, washed, clean,
+and fresh, he seemed so touched and happy, he beamed all over with such
+joyful gratitude, that I too felt moved and joyful.... His face was
+completely transformed.... Boys of twelve have faces like that on Easter
+Sundays, after the communion, when, thickly pomaded, in new jacket and
+starched collars, they come to exchange Easter greetings with their
+parents. Misha was continually--with a sort of cautious
+incredulity--feeling himself and repeating: 'What does it mean? ... Am I
+in heaven?' The next day he announced that he had not slept all night,
+he had been in such ecstasy.
+
+I had living in my house at that time an old aunt with her niece; both
+of them were extremely disturbed when they heard of Misha's presence;
+they could not comprehend how I could have asked him into my house!
+There were very ugly rumours about him. But in the first place, I knew
+he was always very courteous with ladies; and, secondly, I counted on
+his promises of amendment. And, in fact, for the first two days of his
+stay under my roof Misha not merely justified my expectations but
+surpassed them, while the ladies of the household were simply enchanted
+with him. He played piquet with the old lady, helped her to wind her
+worsted, showed her two new games of patience; for the niece, who had a
+small voice, he played accompaniments on the piano, and read Russian and
+French poetry. He told both the ladies lively but discreet anecdotes; in
+fact, he showed them every attention, so that they repeatedly expressed
+their surprise to me, and the old lady even observed how unjust people
+sometimes were.... The things--the things they had said of him ... and
+he such a quiet fellow, and so polite ... poor Misha! It is true that at
+table 'poor Misha' licked his lips in a rather peculiar, hurried way, if
+he simply glanced at the bottle. But I had only to shake my finger at
+him, and he would turn his eyes upwards, and lay his hand on his
+heart ... as if to say, I have sworn.... 'I am regenerated now,' he
+assured me.... 'Well, God grant it be so,' was my thought.... But
+this regeneration did not last long.
+
+The first two days he was very talkative and cheerful. But even on the
+third day he seemed somehow subdued, though he remained, as before, with
+the ladies and tried to entertain them. A half mournful, half dreamy
+expression flitted now and then over his face, and the face itself was
+paler and looked thinner. 'Are you unwell?' I asked him.
+
+'Yes,' he answered; 'my head aches a little.' On the fourth day he was
+completely silent; for the most part he sat in a corner, hanging his
+head disconsolately, and his dejected appearance worked upon the
+compassionate sympathies of the two ladies, who now, in their turn,
+tried to amuse him. At table he ate nothing, stared at his plate, and
+rolled up pellets of bread. On the fifth day the feeling of compassion
+in the ladies began to be replaced by other emotions--uneasiness and
+even alarm. Misha was so strange, he held aloof from people, and kept
+moving along close to the walls, as though trying to steal by unnoticed,
+and suddenly looking round as though some one had called him. And what
+had become of his rosy colour? It seemed covered over by a layer of
+earth. 'Are you still unwell?' I asked him.
+
+'No, I'm all right,' he answered abruptly.
+
+'Are you dull?'
+
+'Why should I be dull?' But he turned away and would not look me
+in the face.
+
+'Or is it that wretchedness come over you again?' To this he made no
+reply. So passed another twenty-four hours.
+
+Next day my aunt ran into my room in a state of great excitement,
+declaring that she would leave the house with her niece, if Misha was to
+remain in it.
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'Why, we are dreadfully scared with him.... He's not a man, he's a
+wolf,--nothing better than a wolf. He keeps moving and moving about, and
+doesn't speak--and looks so wild.... He almost gnashes his teeth at me.
+My Katia, you know, is so nervous.... She was so struck with him the
+first day.... I'm in terror for her, and indeed for myself too.' ... I
+didn't know what to say to my aunt. I couldn't, anyway, turn Misha out,
+after inviting him.
+
+He relieved me himself from my difficult position. The same day,--I was
+still sitting in my own room,--suddenly I heard behind me a husky and
+angry voice: 'Nikolai Nikolaitch, Nikolai Nikolaitch!' I looked round;
+Misha was standing in the doorway with a face that was fearful,
+black-looking and distorted. 'Nikolai Nikolaitch!' he repeated ... (not
+'uncle' now).
+
+'What do you want?'
+
+'Let me go ... at once!'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'Let me go, or I shall do mischief, I shall set the house on fire or cut
+some one's throat.' Misha suddenly began trembling. 'Tell them to give
+me back my clothes, and let a cart take me to the highroad, and let me
+have some money, however little!'
+
+'Are you displeased, then, at anything?'
+
+'I can't live like this!' he shrieked at the top of his voice. 'I can't
+live in your respectable, thrice-accursed house! It makes me sick, and
+ashamed to live so quietly! ... How _you_ manage to endure it!'
+
+'That is,' I interrupted in my turn, 'you mean--you can't live without
+drink....'
+
+'Well, yes! yes!' he shrieked again: 'only let me go to my
+brethren, my friends, to the beggars! ... Away from your
+respectable, loathsome species!'
+
+I was about to remind him of his sworn promises, but Misha's frenzied
+look, his breaking voice, the convulsive tremor in his limbs,--it was
+all so awful, that I made haste to get rid of him; I said that his
+clothes should be given him at once, and a cart got ready; and taking
+a note for twenty-five roubles out of a drawer, I laid it on the
+table. Misha had begun to advance in a menacing way towards me,--but
+on this, suddenly he stopped, his face worked, flushed, he struck
+himself on the breast, the tears rushed from his eyes, and muttering,
+'Uncle! angel! I know I'm a ruined man! thanks! thanks!' he snatched
+up the note and ran away.
+
+An hour later he was sitting in the cart dressed once more in his
+Circassian costume, again rosy and cheerful; and when the horses
+started, he yelled, tore off the peaked cap, and, waving it over his
+head, made bow after bow. Just as he was going off, he had given me a
+long and warm embrace, and whispered, 'Benefactor, benefactor ...
+there's no saving me!' He even ran to the ladies and kissed their hands,
+fell on his knees, called upon God, and begged their forgiveness! Katia
+I found afterwards in tears.
+
+The coachman, with whom Misha had set off, on coming home informed me
+that he had driven him to the first tavern on the highroad--and that
+there 'his honour had stuck,' had begun treating every one
+indiscriminately--and had quickly sunk into unconsciousness.
+From that day I never came across Misha again, but his ultimate fate I
+learned in the following manner.
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Three years later, I was again at home in the country; all of a sudden a
+servant came in and announced that Madame Poltyev was asking to see me.
+I knew no Madame Poltyev, and the servant, who made this announcement,
+for some unknown reason smiled sarcastically. To my glance of inquiry,
+he responded that the lady asking for me was young, poorly dressed, and
+had come in a peasant's cart with one horse, which she was driving
+herself! I told him to ask Madame Poltyev up to my room.
+
+I saw a woman of five-and-twenty, in the dress of the small tradesman
+class, with a large kerchief on her head. Her face was simple, roundish,
+not without charm; she looked dejected and gloomy, and was shy and
+awkward in her movements.
+
+'You are Madame Poltyev?' I inquired, and I asked her to sit down.
+
+'Yes,' she answered in a subdued voice, and she did not sit down. 'I am
+the widow of your nephew, Mihail Andreevitch Poltyev.'
+
+'Is Mihail Andreevitch dead? Has he been dead long? But sit down, I
+beg.'
+
+She sank into a chair.
+
+'It's two months.'
+
+'And had you been married to him long?'
+
+'I had been a year with him.'
+
+'Where have you come from now?'
+
+'From out Tula way.... There's a village there,
+Znamenskoe-Glushkovo--perhaps you may know it. I am the daughter of the
+deacon there. Mihail Andreitch and I lived there.... He lived in my
+father's house. We were a whole year together.'
+
+The young woman's lips twitched a little, and she put her hand up to
+them. She seemed to be on the point of tears, but she controlled
+herself, and cleared her throat.
+
+'Mihail Andreitch,' she went on: 'before his death enjoined upon me to
+go to you; "You must be sure to go," said he! And he told me to thank
+you for all your goodness, and to give you ... this ... see, this little
+thing (she took a small packet out of her pocket) which he always had
+about him.... And Mihail Andreitch said, if you would be pleased to
+accept it in memory of him, if you would not disdain it.... "There's
+nothing else," said he, "I can give him" ... that is, you....'
+
+In the packet there was a little silver cup with the monogram of Misha's
+mother. This cup I had often seen in Misha's hands, and once he had even
+said to me, speaking of some poor fellow, that he really was destitute,
+since he had neither cup nor bowl, 'while I, see, have this anyway.'
+
+I thanked her, took the cup, and asked:
+
+'Of what complaint had Misha died? No doubt....'
+
+Then I bit my tongue ... but the young woman understood my unuttered
+hint.... She took a swift glance at me, then looked down again, smiled
+mournfully, and said at once: 'Oh no! he had quite given that up, ever
+since he got to know me ... But he had no health at all! ... It was
+shattered quite. As soon as he gave up drink, he fell into ill health
+directly. He became so steady; he always wanted to help father in his
+land or in the garden, ... or any other work there might be ... in spite
+of his being of noble birth. But how could he get the strength? ... At
+writing, too, he tried to work; as you know, he could do that work
+capitally, but his hands shook, and he couldn't hold the pen properly.
+... He was always finding fault with himself; "I'm a white-handed poor
+creature," he would say; "I've never done any good to anybody, never
+helped, never laboured!" He worried himself very much about that.... He
+used to say that our people labour,--but what use are we? ... Ah,
+Nikolai Nikolaitch, he was a good man--and he was fond of me ... and
+I... Ah, pardon me....'
+
+Here the young woman wept outright. I would have consoled her, but I did
+not know how.
+
+'Have you a child left you?' I asked at last.
+
+She sighed. 'No, no child.... Is it likely?' And her tears flowed faster
+than ever.
+
+'And so that was how Misha's troubled wanderings had ended,' the old man
+P. wound up his narrative. 'You will agree with me, I am sure, that I'm
+right in calling him a desperate character; but you will most likely
+agree too that he was not like the desperate characters of to-day;
+still, a philosopher, you must admit, would find a family likeness
+between him and them. In him and in them there's the thirst for
+self-destruction, the wretchedness, the dissatisfaction.... And what it
+all comes from, I leave the philosopher to decide.'
+
+
+BOUGIVALLE, _November_ 1881.
+
+
+
+
+A STRANGE STORY
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+Fifteen years ago--began H.--official duties compelled me to spend a few
+days in the principal town of the province of T----. I stopped at a very
+fair hotel, which had been established six months before my arrival by a
+Jewish tailor, who had grown rich. I am told that it did not flourish
+long, which is often the case with us; but I found it still in its full
+splendour: the new furniture emitted cracks like pistol-shots at night;
+the bed-linen, table-cloths, and napkins smelt of soap, and the painted
+floors reeked of olive oil, which, however, in the opinion of the
+waiter, an exceedingly elegant but not very clean individual, tended to
+prevent the spread of insects. This waiter, a former valet of Prince
+G.'s, was conspicuous for his free-and-easy manners and his
+self-assurance. He invariably wore a second-hand frockcoat and slippers
+trodden down at heel, carried a table-napkin under his arm, and had a
+multitude of pimples on his cheeks. With a free sweeping movement of his
+moist hands he gave utterance to brief but pregnant observations. He
+showed a patronising interest in me, as a person capable of appreciating
+his culture and knowledge of the world; but he regarded his own lot in
+life with a rather disillusioned eye. 'No doubt about it,' he said to me
+one day; 'ours is a poor sort of position nowadays. May be sent flying
+any day!' His name was Ardalion.
+
+I had to make a few visits to official persons in the town. Ardalion
+procured me a coach and groom, both alike shabby and loose in the
+joints; but the groom wore livery, the carriage was adorned with an
+heraldic crest. After making all my official calls, I drove to see a
+country gentleman, an old friend of my father's, who had been a long
+time settled in the town.... I had not met him for twenty years; he had
+had time to get married, to bring up a good-sized family, to be left a
+widower and to make his fortune. His business was with government
+monopolies, that is to say, he lent contractors for monopolies loans at
+heavy interest.... 'There is always honour in risk,' they say, though
+indeed the risk was small.
+
+In the course of our conversation there came into the room with
+hesitating steps, but as lightly as though on tiptoe, a young girl of
+about seventeen, delicate-looking and thin. 'Here,' said my
+acquaintance, 'is my eldest daughter Sophia; let me introduce you. She
+takes my poor wife's place, looks after the house, and takes care of her
+brothers and sisters.' I bowed a second time to the girl who had come in
+(she meanwhile dropped into a chair without speaking), and thought to
+myself that she did not look much like housekeeping or looking after
+children. Her face was quite childish, round, with small, pleasing, but
+immobile features; the blue eyes, under high, also immobile and
+irregular eyebrows, had an intent, almost astonished look, as though
+they had just observed something unexpected; the full little mouth with
+the lifted upper lip, not only did not smile, but seemed as though
+altogether innocent of such a practice; the rosy flush under the tender
+skin stood in soft, diffused patches on the cheeks, and neither paled
+nor deepened. The fluffy, fair hair hung in light clusters each side of
+the little head. Her bosom breathed softly, and her arms were pressed
+somehow awkwardly and severely against her narrow waist. Her blue gown
+fell without folds--like a child's--to her little feet. The general
+impression this girl made upon me was not one of morbidity, but of
+something enigmatical. I saw before me not simply a shy, provincial
+miss, but a creature of a special type--that I could not make out. This
+type neither attracted nor repelled me; I did not fully understand it,
+and only felt that I had never come across a nature more sincere. Pity
+... yes! pity was the feeling that rose up within me at the sight of
+this young, serious, keenly alert life--God knows why! 'Not of this
+earth,' was my thought, though there was nothing exactly 'ideal' in the
+expression of the face, and though Mademoiselle Sophie had obviously
+come into the drawing-room in fulfilment of those duties of lady of the
+house to which her father had referred.
+
+He began to talk of life in the town of T----, of the social amusements
+and advantages it offered. 'We're very quiet here,' he observed; 'the
+governor's a melancholy fellow; the marshal of the province is a
+bachelor. But there'll be a big ball in the Hall of the Nobility the day
+after to-morrow. I advise you to go; there are some pretty girls here.
+And you'll see all our _intelligentsi_ too.'
+
+My acquaintance, as a man of university education, was fond of using
+learned expressions. He pronounced them with irony, but also with
+respect. Besides, we all know that moneylending, together with
+respectability, developes a certain thoughtfulness in men.
+
+'Allow me to ask, will you be at the ball?' I said, turning to my
+friend's daughter. I wanted to hear the sound of her voice.
+
+'Papa intends to go,' she answered, 'and I with him.'
+
+Her voice turned out to be soft and deliberate, and she articulated
+every syllable fully, as though she were puzzled.
+
+'In that case, allow me to ask you for the first quadrille.'
+
+She bent her head in token of assent, and even then did not smile.
+
+I soon withdrew, and I remember the expression in her eyes, fixed
+steadily upon me, struck me as so strange that I involuntarily looked
+over my shoulder to see whether there were not some one or some thing
+she was looking at behind my back.
+
+I returned to the hotel, and after dining on the never-varied
+'soupe-julienne,' cutlets, and green peas, and grouse cooked to a dry,
+black chip, I sat down on the sofa and gave myself up to reflection. The
+subject of my meditations was Sophia, this enigmatical daughter of my
+old acquaintance; but Ardalion, who was clearing the table, explained my
+thoughtfulness in his own way; he set it down to boredom.
+
+'There is very little in the way of entertainment for visitors in our
+town,' he began with his usual easy condescension, while he went on at
+the same time flapping the backs of the chairs with a dirty
+dinner-napkin--a practice peculiar, as you're doubtless aware, to
+servants of superior education. 'Very little!'
+
+He paused, and the huge clock on the wall, with a lilac rose on its
+white face, seemed in its monotonous, sleepy tick, to repeat his words:
+'Ve-ry! ve-ry!' it ticked. 'No concerts, nor theatres,' pursued Ardalion
+(he had travelled abroad with his master, and had all but stayed in
+Paris; he knew much better than to mispronounce this last word, as the
+peasants do)--'nor dances, for example; nor evening receptions among the
+nobility and gentry--there is nothing of the kind whatever.' (He paused
+a moment, probably to allow me to observe the choiceness of his
+diction.) 'They positively visit each other but seldom. Every one sits
+like a pigeon on its perch. And so it comes to pass that visitors have
+simply nowhere to go.'
+
+Ardalion stole a sidelong glance at me.
+
+'But there is one thing,' he went on, speaking with a drawl, 'in case
+you should feel that way inclined....'
+
+He glanced at me a second time and positively leered, but I suppose did
+not observe signs of the requisite inclination in me.
+
+The polished waiter moved towards the door, pondered a moment, came
+back, and after fidgeting about uneasily a little, bent down to my ear,
+and with a playful smile said:
+
+'Would you not like to behold the dead?'
+
+I stared at him in perplexity.
+
+'Yes,' he went on, speaking in a whisper; 'there is a man like that
+here. He's a simple artisan, and can't even read and write, but he does
+marvellous things. If you, for example, go to him and desire to see any
+one of your departed friends, he will be sure to show him you.'
+
+'How does he do it?'
+
+'That's his secret. For though he's an uneducated man--to speak bluntly,
+illiterate--he's very great in godliness! Greatly respected he is among
+the merchant gentry!'
+
+'And does every one in the town know about this?'
+
+'Those who need to know; but, there, of course--there's danger from the
+police to be guarded against. Because, say what you will, such doings
+are forbidden anyway, and for the common people are a temptation; the
+common people--the mob, we all know, quickly come to blows.'
+
+'Has he shown you the dead?' I asked Ardalion.
+
+Ardalion nodded. 'He has; my father he brought before me as if living.'
+
+I stared at Ardalion. He laughed and played with his dinner-napkin, and
+condescendingly, but unflinchingly, looked at me.
+
+'But this is very curious!' I cried at last. 'Couldn't I make the
+acquaintance of this artisan?'
+
+'You can't go straight to him; but one can act through his mother. She's
+a respectable old woman; she sells pickled apples on the bridge. If you
+wish it, I will ask her.'
+
+'Please do.'
+
+Ardalion coughed behind his hand. 'And a gratuity, whatever you think
+fit, nothing much, of course, should also be handed to her--the old
+lady. And I on my side will make her understand that she has nothing to
+fear from you, as you are a visitor here, a gentleman--and of course you
+can understand that this is a secret, and will not in any case get her
+into any unpleasantness.'
+
+Ardalion took the tray in one hand, and with a graceful swing of the
+tray and his own person, turned towards the door.
+
+'So I may reckon upon you!' I shouted after him.
+
+'You may trust me!' I heard his self-satisfied voice say: 'We'll talk to
+the old woman and transmit you her answer exactly.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I will not enlarge on the train of thought aroused in me by the
+extraordinary fact Ardalion had related; but I am prepared to admit that
+I awaited the promised reply with impatience. Late in the evening
+Ardalion came to me and announced that to his annoyance he could not
+find the old woman. I handed him, however, by way of encouragement, a
+three-rouble note. The next morning he appeared again in my room with a
+beaming countenance; the old woman had consented to see me.
+
+'Hi! boy!' shouted Ardalion in the corridor; 'Hi! apprentice! Come
+here!' A boy of six came up, grimed all over with soot like a kitten,
+with a shaved head, perfectly bald in places, in a torn, striped smock,
+and huge goloshes on his bare feet. 'You take the gentleman, you know
+where,' said Ardalion, addressing the 'apprentice,' and pointing to me.
+'And you, sir, when you arrive, ask for Mastridia Karpovna.'
+
+The boy uttered a hoarse grunt, and we set off.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We walked rather a long while about the unpaved streets of the town of
+T----; at last in one of them, almost the most deserted and desolate of
+all, my guide stopped before an old two-story wooden house, and wiping
+his nose all over his smock-sleeve, said: 'Here; go to the right.' I
+passed through the porch into the outer passage, stumbled towards my
+right, a low door creaked on rusty hinges, and I saw before me a stout
+old woman in a brown jacket lined with hare-skin, with a parti-coloured
+kerchief on her head.
+
+'Mastridia Karpovna?' I inquired.
+
+'The same, at your service,' the old woman replied in a piping voice.
+'Please walk in. Won't you take a chair?'
+
+The room into which the old woman conducted me was so littered up with
+every sort of rubbish, rags, pillows, feather-beds, sacks, that one
+could hardly turn round in it. The sunlight barely struggled in through
+two dusty little windows; in one corner, from behind a heap of boxes
+piled on one another, there came a feeble whimpering and wailing.... I
+could not tell from what; perhaps a sick baby, or perhaps a puppy. I sat
+down on a chair, and the old woman stood up directly facing me. Her face
+was yellow, half-transparent like wax; her lips were so fallen in that
+they formed a single straight line in the midst of a multitude of
+wrinkles; a tuft of white hair stuck out from below the kerchief on her
+head, but the sunken grey eyes peered out alertly and cleverly from
+under the bony overhanging brow; and the sharp nose fairly stuck out
+like a spindle, fairly sniffed the air as if it would say: I'm a smart
+one! 'Well, you're no fool!' was my thought. At the same time she smelt
+of spirits.
+
+I explained to her the object of my visit, of which, however, as I
+observed, she must be aware. She listened to me, blinked her eyes
+rapidly, and only lifted her nose till it stuck out still more sharply,
+as though she were making ready to peck.
+
+'To be sure, to be sure,' she said at last; 'Ardalion Matveitch did say
+something, certainly; my son Vassinka's art you were wanting.... But we
+can't be sure, my dear sir....'
+
+'Oh, why so?' I interposed. 'As far as I'm concerned, you may feel
+perfectly easy.... I'm not an informer.'
+
+'Oh, mercy on us,' the old woman caught me up hurriedly, 'what do you
+mean? Could we dare to suppose such a thing of your honour! And on what
+ground could one inform against us? Do you suppose it's some sinful
+contrivance of ours? No, sir, my son's not the one to lend himself to
+anything wicked ... or give way to any sort of witchcraft.... God forbid
+indeed, holy Mother of Heaven! (The old woman crossed herself three
+times.) He's the foremost in prayer and fasting in the whole province;
+the foremost, your honour, he is! And that's just it: great grace has
+been vouchsafed to him. Yes, indeed. It's not the work of his hands.
+It's from on high, my dear; so it is.'
+
+'So you agree?' I asked: 'when can I see your son?'
+
+The old woman blinked again and shifted her rolled up handkerchief from
+one sleeve to the other.
+
+'Oh, well, sir--well, sir, I can't say.'
+
+'Allow me, Mastridia Karpovna, to hand you this,' I interrupted, and I
+gave her a ten-rouble note.
+
+The old woman clutched it at once in her fat, crooked fingers, which
+recalled the fleshy claws of an owl, quickly slipped it into her sleeve,
+pondered a little, and as though she had suddenly reached a decision,
+slapped her thighs with her open hand.
+
+'Come here this evening a little after seven,' she said, not in her
+previous voice, but in quite a different one, more solemn and subdued;
+'only not to this room, but kindly go straight up to the floor above,
+and you'll find a door to your left, and you open that door; and you'll
+go, your honour, into an empty room, and in that room you'll see a
+chair. Sit you down on that chair and wait; and whatever you see, don't
+utter a word and don't do anything; and please don't speak to my son
+either; for he's but young yet, and he suffers from fits. He's very
+easily scared; he'll tremble and shake like any chicken ... a sad
+thing it is!'
+
+I looked at Mastridia. 'You say he's young, but since he's your son ...'
+
+'In the spirit, sir, in the spirit. Many's the orphan I have under my
+care!' she added, wagging her head in the direction of the corner, from
+which came the plaintive whimper. 'O--O God Almighty, holy Mother of
+God! And do you, your honour, before you come here, think well which of
+your deceased relations or friends--the kingdom of Heaven to
+them!--you're desirous of seeing. Go over your deceased friends, and
+whichever you select, keep him in your mind, keep him all the while till
+my son comes!'
+
+'Why, mustn't I tell your son whom ...'
+
+'Nay, nay, sir, not one word. He will find out what he needs in your
+thoughts himself. You've only to keep your friend thoroughly in mind;
+and at your dinner drink a drop of wine--just two or three glasses; wine
+never comes amiss.' The old woman laughed, licked her lips, passed her
+hand over her mouth, and sighed.
+
+'So at half-past seven?' I queried, getting up from my chair.
+
+'At half-past seven, your honour, at half-past seven,' Mastridia
+Karpovna replied reassuringly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I took leave of the old woman and went back to the hotel. I did not
+doubt that they were going to make a fool of me, but in what way?--that
+was what excited my curiosity. With Ardalion I did not exchange more
+than two or three words. 'Did she see you?' he asked me, knitting his
+brow, and on my affirmative reply, he exclaimed: 'The old woman's as
+good as any statesman!' I set to work, in accordance with the
+'statesman's' counsel, to run over my deceased friends.
+
+After rather prolonged hesitation I fixed, at last, on an old man who
+had long been dead, a Frenchman, once my tutor. I selected him not
+because he had any special attraction for me; but his whole figure was
+so original, so unlike any figure of to-day, that it would be utterly
+impossible to imitate it. He had an enormous head, fluffy white hair
+combed straight back, thick black eyebrows, a hawk nose, and two large
+warts of a pinkish hue in the middle of the forehead; he used to wear a
+green frockcoat with smooth brass buttons, a striped waistcoat with a
+stand-up collar, a jabot and lace cuffs. 'If he shows me my old
+Dessaire,' I thought, 'well, I shall have to admit that he's a
+sorcerer!'
+
+At dinner I followed the old dame's behest and drank a bottle of
+Lafitte, of the first quality, so Ardalion averred, though it had a
+very strong flavour of burnt cork, and a thick sediment at the bottom
+of each glass.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Exactly at half-past seven I stood in front of the house where I had
+conversed with the worthy Mastridia Karpovna. All the shutters of the
+windows were closed, but the door was open. I went into the house,
+mounted the shaky staircase to the first story, and opening a door on
+the left, found myself, as the old woman had said, in a perfectly empty,
+rather large room; a tallow candle set in the window-sill threw a dim
+light over the room; against the wall opposite the door stood a
+wicker-bottomed chair. I snuffed the candle, which had already burnt
+down enough to form a long smouldering wick, sat down on the chair and
+began to wait.
+
+The first ten minutes passed rather quickly; in the room itself there
+was absolutely nothing which could distract my attention, but I listened
+intently to every rustle, looked intently at the closed door.... My
+heart was throbbing. After the first ten minutes followed another ten
+minutes, then half an hour, three-quarters of an hour, and not a stir of
+any kind around! I coughed several times to make my presence known; I
+began to feel bored and out of temper; to be made a fool of in just that
+way had not entered into my calculations. I was on the point of getting
+up from my seat, taking the candle from the window, and going
+downstairs.... I looked at it; the wick again wanted snuffing; but as I
+turned my eyes from the window to the door, I could not help starting;
+with his back leaning against the door stood a man. He had entered so
+quickly and noiselessly that I had heard nothing. He wore a simple blue
+smock; he was of middle height and rather thick-set. With his hands
+behind his back and his head bent, he was staring at me. In the dim
+light of the candle I could not distinctly make out his features. I saw
+nothing but a shaggy mane of matted hair falling on his forehead, and
+thick, rather drawn lips and whitish eyes. I was nearly speaking to him,
+but I recollected Mastridia's injunction, and bit my lips. The man, who
+had come in, continued to gaze at me, and, strange to say, at the same
+time I felt something like fear, and, as though at the word of command,
+promptly started thinking of my old tutor. _He_ still stood at the door
+and breathed heavily, as though he had been climbing a mountain or
+lifting a weight, while his eyes seemed to expand, seemed to come closer
+to me--and I felt uncomfortable under their obstinate, heavy, menacing
+stare; at times those eyes glowed with a malignant inward fire, a fire
+such as I have seen in the eyes of a pointer dog when it 'points' at a
+hare; and, like a pointer dog, _he_ kept _his_ eyes intently following
+mine when I 'tried to double,' that is, tried to turn my eyes away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So passed I do not know how long--perhaps a minute, perhaps a quarter of
+an hour. He still gazed at me; I still experienced a certain discomfort
+and alarm and still thought of the Frenchman. Twice I tried to say to
+myself, 'What nonsense! what a farce!' I tried to smile, to shrug my
+shoulders.... It was no use! All initiative had all at once 'frozen up'
+within me--I can find no other word for it. I was overcome by a sort of
+numbness. Suddenly I noticed that he had left the door, and was standing
+a step or two nearer to me; then he gave a slight bound, both feet
+together, and stood closer still.... Then again ... and again; while the
+menacing eyes were simply fastened on my whole face, and the hands
+remained behind, and the broad chest heaved painfully. These leaps
+struck me as ridiculous, but I felt dread too, and what I could not
+understand at all, a drowsiness began suddenly to come upon me. My
+eyelids clung together ... the shaggy figure with the whitish eyes in
+the blue smock seemed double before me, and suddenly vanished
+altogether! ... I shook myself; he was again standing between the door
+and me, but now much nearer.... Then he vanished again--a sort of mist
+seemed to fall upon him; again he appeared ... vanished again ...
+appeared again, and always closer, closer ... his hard, almost gasping
+breathing floated across to me now.... Again the mist fell, and all of a
+sudden out of this mist the head of old Dessaire began to take distinct
+shape, beginning with the white, brushed-back hair! Yes: there were his
+warts, his black eyebrows, his hook nose! There too his green coat with
+the brass buttons, the striped waistcoat and jabot.... I shrieked, I got
+up.... The old man vanished, and in his place I saw again the man in the
+blue smock. He moved staggering to the wall, leaned his head and both
+arms against it, and heaving like an over-loaded horse, in a husky voice
+said, 'Tea!' Mastridia Karpovna--how she came there I can't say--flew to
+him and saying: 'Vassinka! Vassinka!' began anxiously wiping away the
+sweat, which simply trickled from his face and hair. I was on the point
+of approaching her, but she, so insistently, in such a heart-rending
+voice cried: 'Your honour! merciful sir! have pity on us, go away, for
+Christ's sake!' that I obeyed, while she turned again to her son.
+'Bread-winner, darling,' she murmured soothingly: 'you shall have tea
+directly, directly. And you too, sir, had better take a cup of tea at
+home!' she shouted after me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When I got home I obeyed Mastridia and ordered some tea; I felt
+tired--even weak. 'Well?' Ardalion questioned me, 'have you been? did
+you see something?'
+
+'He did, certainly, show me something ... which, I'll own, I had not
+anticipated,' I replied.
+
+'He's a man of marvellous power,' observed Ardalion, carrying off the
+samovar; 'he is held in high esteem among the merchant gentry.' As I
+went to bed, and reflected on the incident that had occurred to me, I
+fancied at last that I had reached some explanation of it. The man
+doubtless possessed a considerable magnetic power; acting by some means,
+which I did not understand of course, upon my nerves, he had evoked
+within me so vividly, so definitely, the image of the old man of whom I
+was thinking, that at last I fancied that I saw him before my eyes....
+Such 'metastases,' such transferences of sensation, are recognised by
+science. It was all very well; but the force capable of producing such
+effects still remained, something marvellous and mysterious. 'Say what
+you will,' I thought, 'I've seen, seen with my own eyes, my dead tutor!'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day the ball in the Hall of Nobility took place. Sophia's
+father called on me and reminded me of the engagement I had made with
+his daughter. At ten o'clock I was standing by her side in the middle
+of a ballroom lighted up by a number of copper lamps, and was preparing
+to execute the not very complicated steps of the French quadrille to
+the resounding blare of the military band. Crowds of people were there;
+the ladies were especially numerous and very pretty; but the first
+place among them would certainly have been given to my partner, if it
+had not been for the rather strange, even rather wild look in her eyes.
+I noticed that she hardly ever blinked; the unmistakable expression of
+sincerity in her eyes did not make up for what was extraordinary in
+them. But she had a charming figure, and moved gracefully, though with
+constraint. When she waltzed, and, throwing herself a little back, bent
+her slender neck towards her right shoulder, as though she wanted to
+get away from her partner, nothing more touchingly youthful and pure
+could be imagined. She was all in white, with a turquoise cross on a
+black ribbon.
+
+I asked her for a mazurka, and tried to talk to her. But her answers
+were few and reluctant, though she listened attentively, with the same
+expression of dreamy absorption which had struck me when I first met
+her. Not the slightest trace of desire to please, at her age, with her
+appearance, and the absence of a smile, and those eyes, continually
+fixed directly upon the eyes of the person speaking to her, though they
+seemed at the same time to see something else, to be absorbed with
+something different.... What a strange creature! Not knowing, at last,
+how to thaw her, I bethought me of telling her of my adventure of the
+previous day.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She heard me to the end with evident interest, but was not, as I had
+expected, surprised at what I told her, and merely asked whether he was
+not called Vassily. I recollected that the old woman had called him
+'Vassinka.' 'Yes, his name is Vassily,' I answered; 'do you know him?'
+
+'There is a saintly man living here called Vassily,' she observed; 'I
+wondered whether it was he.'
+
+'Saintliness has nothing to do with this,' I remarked; 'it's simply
+the action of magnetism--a fact of interest for doctors and students
+of science.'
+
+I proceeded to expound my views on the peculiar force called magnetism,
+on the possibility of one man's will being brought under the influence
+of another's will, and so on; but my explanations--which were, it is
+true, somewhat confused--seemed to make no impression on her. Sophie
+listened, dropping her clasped hands on her knees with a fan lying
+motionless in them; she did not play with it, she did not move her
+fingers at all, and I felt that all my words rebounded from her as from
+a statue of stone. She heard them, but clearly she had her own
+convictions, which nothing could shake or uproot.
+
+'You can hardly admit miracles!' I cried.
+
+'Of course I admit them,' she answered calmly. 'And how can one help
+admitting them? Are not we told in the gospel that who has but a grain
+of faith as big as a mustard seed, he can remove mountains? One need
+only have faith--there will be miracles!'
+
+'It seems there is very little faith nowadays,' I observed; 'anyway, one
+doesn't hear of miracles.'
+
+'But yet there are miracles; you have seen one yourself. No; faith is
+not dead nowadays; and the beginning of faith ...'
+
+'The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom,' I interrupted.
+
+'The beginning of faith,' pursued Sophie, nothing daunted, 'is
+self-abasement ... humiliation.'
+
+'Humiliation even?' I queried.
+
+'Yes. The pride of man, haughtiness, presumption--that is what must be
+utterly rooted up. You spoke of the will--that's what must be broken.'
+
+I scanned the whole figure of the young girl who was uttering such
+sentences.... 'My word, the child's in earnest, too,' was my thought. I
+glanced at our neighbours in the mazurka; they, too, glanced at me, and
+I fancied that my astonishment amused them; one of them even smiled at
+me sympathetically, as though he would say: 'Well, what do you think of
+our queer young lady? every one here knows what she's like.'
+
+'Have you tried to break your will?' I said, turning to Sophie again.
+
+'Every one is bound to do what he thinks right,' she answered in a
+dogmatic tone. 'Let me ask you,' I began, after a brief silence, 'do you
+believe in the possibility of calling up the dead?'
+
+Sophie softly shook her head.
+
+'There are no dead.'
+
+'What?'
+
+'There are no dead souls; they are undying and can always appear, when
+they like.... They are always about us.'
+
+'What? Do you suppose, for instance, that an immortal soul may be at
+this moment hovering about that garrison major with the red nose?'
+
+'Why not? The sunlight falls on him and his nose, and is not the
+sunlight, all light, from God? And what does external appearance
+matter? To the pure all things are pure! Only to find a teacher, to
+find a leader!'
+
+'But excuse me, excuse me,' I put in, not, I must own, without malicious
+intent. 'You want a leader ... but what is your priest for?'
+
+Sophie looked coldly at me.
+
+'You mean to laugh at me, I suppose. My priestly father tells me what I
+ought to do; but what I want is a leader who would show me himself in
+action how to sacrifice one's self!'
+
+She raised her eyes towards the ceiling. With her childlike face, and
+that expression of immobile absorption, of secret, continual perplexity,
+she reminded me of the pre-raphaelite Madonnas....
+
+'I have read somewhere,' she went on, not turning to me, and hardly
+moving her lips, 'of a grand person who directed that he should be
+buried under a church porch so that all the people who came in should
+tread him under foot and trample on him.... That is what one ought to
+do in life.'
+
+Boom! boom! tra-ra-ra! thundered the drums from the band.... I must own
+such a conversation at a ball struck me as eccentric in the extreme; the
+ideas involuntarily kindled within me were of a nature anything but
+religious. I took advantage of my partner's being invited to one of the
+figures of the mazurka to avoid renewing our quasi-theological
+discussion.
+
+A quarter of an hour later I conducted Mademoiselle Sophie to her
+father, and two days after I left the town of T----, and the image of
+the girl with the childlike face and the soul impenetrable as stone
+slipped quickly out of my memory.
+
+Two years passed, and it chanced that that image was recalled again to
+me. It was like this: I was talking to a colleague who had just
+returned from a tour in South Russia. He had spent some time in the
+town of T----, and told me various items of news about the
+neighbourhood. 'By the way!' he exclaimed, 'you knew V. G. B. very
+well, I fancy, didn't you?'
+
+'Of course I know him.'
+
+'And his daughter Sophia, do you know her?'
+
+'I've seen her twice.'
+
+'Only fancy, she's run away!'
+
+'How's that?'
+
+'Well, I don't know. Three months ago she disappeared, and nothing's
+been heard of her. And the astonishing thing is no one can make out whom
+she's run off with. Fancy, they've not the slightest idea, not the
+smallest suspicion! She'd refused all the offers made her, and she was
+most proper in her behaviour. Ah, these quiet, religious girls are the
+ones! It's made an awful scandal all over the province! B.'s in
+despair.... And whatever need had she to run away? Her father carried
+out her wishes in everything. And what's so unaccountable, all the
+Lovelaces of the province are there all right, not one's missing.'
+
+'And they've not found her up till now?'
+
+'I tell you she might as well be at the bottom of the sea! It's one rich
+heiress less in the world, that's the worst of it.'
+
+This piece of news greatly astonished me. It did not seem at all in
+keeping with the recollection I had of Sophia B. But there! anything
+may happen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the autumn of the same year fate brought me--again on official
+business--into the S---- province, which is, as every one knows, next to
+the province of T----. It was cold and rainy weather; the worn-out
+posting-horses could scarcely drag my light trap through the black slush
+of the highroad. One day, I remember, was particularly unlucky: three
+times we got 'stuck' in the mud up to the axles of the wheels; my driver
+was continually giving up one rut and with moans and grunts trudging
+across to the other, and finding things no better with that. In fact,
+towards evening I was so exhausted that on reaching the posting-station
+I decided to spend the night at the inn. I was given a room with a
+broken-down wooden sofa, a sloping floor, and torn paper on the walls;
+there was a smell in it of kvas, bast-mats, onions, and even
+turpentine, and swarms of flies were on everything; but at any rate I
+could find shelter there from the weather, and the rain had set in, as
+they say, for the whole day. I ordered a samovar to be brought, and,
+sitting on the sofa, settled down to those cheerless wayside reflections
+so familiar to travellers in Russia.
+
+They were broken in upon by a heavy knocking that came from the common
+room, from which my room was separated by a deal partition. This sound
+was accompanied by an intermittent metallic jingle, like the clank of
+chains, and a coarse male voice boomed out suddenly: 'The blessing of
+God on all within this house. The blessing of God! the blessing of God!
+Amen, amen! Scatter His enemies!' repeated the voice, with a sort of
+incongruous and savage drawl on the last syllable of each word.... A
+noisy sigh was heard, and a ponderous body sank on to the bench with the
+same jingling sound. 'Akulina! servant of God, come here!' the voice
+began again: 'Behold! Clothed in rags and blessed! ... Ha-ha-ha! Tfoo!
+Merciful God, merciful God, merciful God!' the voice droned like a
+deacon in the choir. 'Merciful God, Creator of my body, behold my
+iniquity.... O-ho-ho! Ha-ha! ... Tfoo! And all abundance be to this house
+in the seventh hour!'
+
+'Who's that?' I asked the hospitable landlady, who came in with
+the samovar.
+
+'That, your honour,' she answered me in a hurried whisper, 'is a
+blessed, holy man. He's not long come into our parts; and here he's
+graciously pleased to visit us. In such weather! The wet's simply
+trickling from him, poor dear man, in streams! And you should see the
+chains on him--such a lot!'
+
+'The blessing of God! the blessing of God!' the voice was heard again.
+'Akulina! Hey, Akulina! Akulinushka--friend! where is our paradise? Our
+fair paradise of bliss? In the wilderness is our paradise, ...
+para-dise.... And to this house, from beginning of time, great
+happiness, ... o ... o ... o ...' The voice muttered something
+inarticulate, and again, after a protracted yawn, there came the hoarse
+laugh. This laugh broke out every time, as it were, involuntarily, and
+every time it was followed by vigorous spitting.
+
+'Ah, me! Stepanitch isn't here! That's the worst of it!' the landlady
+said, as it were to herself, as she stood with every sign of the
+profoundest attention at the door. 'He will say some word of salvation,
+and I, foolish woman, may not catch it!'
+
+She went out quickly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the partition there was a chink; I applied my eye to it. The crazy
+pilgrim was sitting on a bench with his back to me; I saw nothing but
+his shaggy head, as huge as a beer-can, and a broad bent back in a
+patched and soaking shirt. Before him, on the earth floor, knelt a
+frail-looking woman in a jacket, such as are worn by women of the
+artisan class--old and wet through--and with a dark kerchief pulled down
+almost over her eyes. She was trying to pull the holy man's boots off;
+her fingers slid off the greasy, slippery leather. The landlady was
+standing near her, with her arms folded across her bosom, gazing
+reverently at the 'man of God.' He was, as before, mumbling some
+inarticulate words.
+
+At last the woman succeeded in tugging off the boots. She almost fell
+backwards, but recovered herself, and began unwinding the strips of rag
+which were wrapped round the vagrant's legs. On the sole of his foot
+there was a wound.... I turned away.
+
+'A cup of tea wouldn't you bid me get you, my dear?' I heard the hostess
+saying in an obsequious voice.
+
+'What a notion!' responded the holy man. 'To indulge the sinful body....
+O-ho-ho! Break all the bones in it ... but she talks of tea! Oh, oh,
+worthy old woman, Satan is strong within us.... Fight him with hunger,
+fight him with cold, with the sluice-gates of heaven, the pouring,
+penetrating rain, and he takes no harm--he is alive still! Remember the
+day of the Intercession of the Mother of God! You will receive, you will
+receive in abundance!'
+
+The landlady could not resist uttering a faint groan of admiration.
+
+'Only listen to me! Give all thou hast, give thy head, give thy shirt!
+If they ask not of thee, yet give! For God is all-seeing! Is it hard for
+Him to destroy your roof? He has given thee bread in His mercy, and do
+thou bake it in the oven! He seeth all! Se ... e ... eth! Whose eye is
+in the triangle? Say, whose?'
+
+The landlady stealthily crossed herself under her neckerchief.
+
+'The old enemy is adamant! A ... da ... mant! A ... da ... mant!' the
+religious maniac repeated several times, gnashing his teeth. 'The old
+serpent! But God will arise! Yes, God will arise and scatter His
+enemies! I will call up all the dead! I will go against His enemy....
+Ha-ha-ha! Tfoo!'
+
+'Have you any oil?' said another voice, hardly audible; 'let me put some
+on the wound.... I have got a clean rag.'
+
+I peeped through the chink again; the woman in the jacket was still
+busied with the vagrant's sore foot.... 'A Magdalen!' I thought.
+
+'I'll get it directly, my dear,' said the woman, and, coming into my
+room, she took a spoonful of oil from the lamp burning before the
+holy picture.
+
+'Who's that waiting on him?' I asked.
+
+'We don't know, sir, who it is; she too, I suppose, is seeking
+salvation, atoning for her sins. But what a saintly man he is!'
+
+'Akulinushka, my sweet child, my dear daughter,' the crazy pilgrim was
+repeating meanwhile, and he suddenly burst into tears.
+
+The woman kneeling before him lifted her eyes to him.... Heavens! where
+had I seen those eyes?
+
+The landlady went up to her with the spoonful of oil. She finished her
+operation, and, getting up from the floor, asked if there were a clean
+loft and a little hay.... 'Vassily Nikititch likes to sleep on hay,'
+she added.
+
+'To be sure there is, come this way,' answered the woman; 'come this
+way, my dear,' she turned to the holy man, 'and dry yourself and rest.'
+The man coughed, slowly got up from the bench--his chains clanked
+again--and turning round with his face to me, looked for the holy
+pictures, and began crossing himself with a wide movement.
+
+I recognised him instantly: it was the very artisan Vassily, who had
+once shown me my dead tutor!
+
+His features were little changed; only their expression had become still
+more unusual, still more terrible.... The lower part of his swollen face
+was overgrown with unkempt beard. Tattered, filthy, wild-looking, he
+inspired in me more repugnance than horror. He left off crossing
+himself, but still his eyes wandered senselessly about the corners of
+the room, about the floor, as though he were waiting for something....
+
+'Vassily Nikititch, please come,' said the woman in the jacket with a
+bow. He suddenly threw up his head and turned round, but stumbled and
+tottered.... His companion flew to him at once, and supported him under
+the arm. Judging by her voice and figure, she seemed still young; her
+face it was almost impossible to see.
+
+'Akulinushka, friend!' the vagrant repeated once more in a shaking
+voice, and opening his mouth wide, and smiting himself on the breast
+with his fist, he uttered a deep groan, that seemed to come from the
+bottom of his heart. Both followed the landlady out of the room.
+
+I lay down on my hard sofa and mused a long while on what I had seen. My
+mesmeriser had become a regular religious maniac. This was what he had
+been brought to by the power which one could not but recognise in him!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning I was preparing to go on my way. The rain was falling
+as fast as the day before, but I could not delay any longer. My
+servant, as he gave me water to wash, wore a special smile on his
+face, a smile of restrained irony. I knew that smile well; it
+indicated that my servant had heard something discreditable or even
+shocking about gentlefolks. He was obviously burning with impatience
+to communicate it to me.
+
+'Well, what is it?' I asked at last.
+
+'Did your honour see the crazy pilgrim yesterday?' my man began at once.
+
+'Yes; what then?'
+
+'And did you see his companion too?'
+
+'Yes, I saw her.'
+
+'She's a young lady, of noble family.'
+
+'What?'
+
+'It's the truth I'm telling you; some merchants arrived here this
+morning from T----; they recognised her. They did tell me her name, but
+I've forgotten it.'
+
+It was like a flash of enlightenment. 'Is the pilgrim still
+here?' I asked.
+
+'I fancy he's not gone yet. He's been ever so long at the gate, and
+making such a wonderful wise to-do, that there's no getting by. He's
+amusing himself with this tomfoolery; he finds it pay, no doubt.'
+
+My man belonged to the same class of educated servants as Ardalion.
+
+'And is the lady with him?'
+
+'Yes. She's in attendance on him.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I went out on to the steps, and got a view of the crazy pilgrim. He was
+sitting on a bench at the gate, and, bent down with both his open hands
+pressed on it, he was shaking his drooping head from right to left, for
+all the world like a wild beast in a cage. The thick mane of curly hair
+covered his eyes, and shook from side to side, and so did his pendulous
+lips.... A strange, almost unhuman muttering came from them. His
+companion had only just finished washing from a pitcher that was hanging
+on a pole, and without having yet replaced her kerchief on her head, was
+making her way back to the gate along a narrow plank laid across the
+dark puddles of the filthy yard. I glanced at her head, which was now
+entirely uncovered, and positively threw up my hands with astonishment:
+before me stood Sophie B.!
+
+She turned quickly round and fixed upon me her blue eyes, immovable as
+ever. She was much thinner, her skin looked coarser and had the
+yellowish-ruddy tinge of sunburn, her nose was sharper, and her lips
+were harder in their lines. But she was not less good-looking; only
+besides her old expression of dreamy amazement there was now a different
+look--resolute, almost bold, intense and exalted. There was not a trace
+of childishness left in the face now.
+
+I went up to her. 'Sophia Vladimirovna,' I cried, 'can it be you? In
+such a dress ... in such company....'
+
+She started, looked still more intently at me, as though anxious to find
+out who was speaking to her, and, without saying a word to me, fairly
+rushed to her companion.
+
+'Akulinushka,' he faltered, with a heavy sigh, 'our sins, sins ...'
+
+'Vassily Nikititch, let us go at once! Do you hear, at once, at once,'
+she said, pulling her kerchief on to her forehead with one hand, while
+with the other she supported the pilgrim under the elbow; 'let us go,
+Vassily Nikititch: there is danger here.'
+
+'I'm coming, my good girl, I'm coming,' the crazy pilgrim responded
+obediently, and, bending his whole body forward, he got up from the
+seat. 'Here's only this chain to fasten....'
+
+I once more approached Sophia, and told her my name. I began beseeching
+her to listen to me, to say one word to me. I pointed to the rain,
+which was coming down in bucketsful. I begged her to have some care for
+her health, the health of her companion. I mentioned her father.... But
+she seemed possessed by a sort of wrathful, a sort of vindictive
+excitement: without paying the slightest attention to me, setting her
+teeth and breathing hard, she urged on the distracted vagrant in an
+undertone, in soft insistent words, girt him up, fastened on his
+chains, pulled on to his hair a child's cloth cap with a broken peak,
+stuck his staff in his hand, slung a wallet on her own shoulder, and
+went with him out at the gate into the street.... To stop her actually
+I had not the right, and it would have been of no use; and at my last
+despairing call she did not even turn round. Supporting the 'man of
+God' under his arm, she stepped rapidly over the black mud of the
+street; and in a few moments, across the dim dusk of the foggy morning,
+through the thick network of falling raindrops, I saw the last glimpse
+of the two figures, the crazy pilgrim and Sophie.... They turned the
+corner of a projecting hut, and vanished for ever.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I went back to my room. I fell to pondering. I could not understand it;
+I could not understand how such a girl, well brought up, young, and
+wealthy, could throw up everything and every one, her own home, her
+family, her friends, break with all her habits, with all the comforts of
+life, and for what? To follow a half-insane vagrant, to become his
+servant! I could not for an instant entertain the idea that the
+explanation of such a step was to be found in any prompting, however
+depraved, of the heart, in love or passion.... One had but to glance at
+the repulsive figure of the 'man of God' to dismiss such a notion
+entirely! No, Sophie had remained pure; and to her all things were pure;
+I could not understand what Sophie had done; but I did not blame her,
+as, later on, I have not blamed other girls who too have sacrificed
+everything for what they thought the truth, for what they held to be
+their vocation. I could not help regretting that Sophie had chosen just
+_that_ path; but also I could not refuse her admiration, respect even.
+In good earnest she had talked of self-sacrifice, of abasement ... in
+_her_, words were not opposed to acts. She had sought a leader, a guide,
+and had found him, ... and, my God, what a guide!
+
+Yes, she had lain down to be trampled, trodden under foot.... In the
+process of time, a rumour reached me that her family had succeeded at
+last in finding out the lost sheep, and bringing her home. But at home
+she did not live long, and died, like a 'Sister of Silence,' without
+having spoken a word to any one.
+
+Peace to your heart, poor, enigmatic creature! Vassily Nikititch is
+probably on his crazy wanderings still; the iron health of such
+people is truly marvellous. Perhaps, though, his epilepsy may have
+done for him.
+
+BADEN-BADEN, 1869.
+
+
+
+
+PUNIN AND BABURIN
+
+PIOTR PETROVITCH'S STORY
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+... I am old and ill now, and my thoughts brood oftenest upon death,
+every day coming nearer; rarely I think of the past, rarely I turn the
+eyes of my soul behind me. Only from time to time--in winter, as I sit
+motionless before the glowing fire, in summer, as I pace with slow tread
+along the shady avenue--I recall past years, events, faces; but it is
+not on my mature years nor on my youth that my thoughts rest at such
+times. They either carry me back to my earliest childhood, or to the
+first years of boyhood. Now, for instance, I see myself in the country
+with my stern and wrathful grandmother--I was only twelve--and two
+figures rise up before my imagination....
+
+But I will begin my story consecutively, and in proper order.
+
+
+
+I
+
+1830
+
+
+The old footman Filippitch came in, on tiptoe, as usual, with a cravat
+tied up in a rosette, with tightly compressed lips, 'lest his breath
+should be smelt,' with a grey tuft of hair standing up in the very
+middle of his forehead. He came in, bowed, and handed my grandmother on
+an iron tray a large letter with an heraldic seal. My grandmother put on
+her spectacles, read the letter through....
+
+'Is he here?' she asked.
+
+'What is my lady pleased ...' Filippitch began timidly.
+
+'Imbecile! The man who brought the letter--is he here?'
+
+'He is here, to be sure he is.... He is sitting in the counting-house.'
+
+My grandmother rattled her amber rosary beads....
+
+'Tell him to come to me.... And you, sir,' she turned to me, 'sit
+still.'
+
+As it was, I was sitting perfectly still in my corner, on the stool
+assigned to me.
+
+My grandmother kept me well in hand!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Five minutes later there came into the room a man of five-and-thirty,
+black-haired and swarthy, with broad cheek-bones, a face marked with
+smallpox, a hook nose, and thick eyebrows, from under which the small
+grey eyes looked out with mournful composure. The colour of the eyes and
+their expression were out of keeping with the Oriental cast of the rest
+of the face. The man was dressed in a decent, long-skirted coat. He
+stopped in the doorway, and bowed--only with his head.
+
+'So your name's Baburin?' queried my grandmother, and she added to
+herself: '_Il a l'air d'un armenien._'
+
+'Yes, it is,' the man answered in a deep and even voice. At the first
+brusque sound of my grandmother's voice his eyebrows faintly quivered.
+Surely he had not expected her to address him as an equal?
+
+'Are you a Russian? orthodox?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+My grandmother took off her spectacles, and scanned Baburin from head
+to foot deliberately. He did not drop his eyes, he merely folded his
+hands behind his back. What particularly struck my fancy was his beard;
+it was very smoothly shaven, but such blue cheeks and chin I had never
+seen in my life!
+
+'Yakov Petrovitch,' began my grandmother, 'recommends you strongly
+in his letter as sober and industrious; why, then, did you leave
+his service?'
+
+'He needs a different sort of person to manage his estate, madam.'
+
+'A different ... sort? That I don't quite understand.'
+
+My grandmother rattled her beads again. 'Yakov Petrovitch writes to me
+that there are two peculiarities about you. What peculiarities?'
+
+Baburin shrugged his shoulders slightly.
+
+'I can't tell what he sees fit to call peculiarities. Possibly that
+I ... don't allow corporal punishment.'
+
+My grandmother was surprised. 'Do you mean to say Yakov Petrovitch
+wanted to flog you?'
+
+Baburin's swarthy face grew red to the roots of his hair.
+
+'You have not understood me right, madam. I make it a rule not to employ
+corporal punishment ... with the peasants.'
+
+My grandmother was more surprised than ever; she positively threw up
+her hands.
+
+'Ah!' she pronounced at last, and putting her head a little on one side,
+once more she scrutinised Baburin attentively. 'So that's your rule, is
+it? Well, that's of no consequence whatever to me; I don't want an
+overseer, but a counting-house clerk, a secretary. What sort of a hand
+do you write?'
+
+'I write well, without mistakes in spelling.'
+
+'That too is of no consequence to me. The great thing for me is for it
+to be clear, and without any of those new copybook letters with tails,
+that I don't like. And what's your other peculiarity?'
+
+Baburin moved uneasily, coughed....
+
+'Perhaps ... the gentleman has referred to the fact that I am not
+alone.'
+
+'You are married?'
+
+'Oh no ... but ...'
+
+My grandmother knit her brows.
+
+'There is a person living with me ... of the male sex ... a comrade, a
+poor friend, from whom I have never parted ... for ... let me see ...
+ten years now.'
+
+'A relation of yours?'
+
+'No, not a relation--a friend. As to work, there can be no possible
+hindrance occasioned by him,' Baburin made haste to add, as though
+foreseeing objections. 'He lives at my cost, occupies the same room with
+me; he is more likely to be of use, as he is well educated--speaking
+without flattery, extremely so, in fact--and his morals are exemplary.'
+
+My grandmother heard Baburin out, chewing her lips and half
+closing her eyes.
+
+'He lives at your expense?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'You keep him out of charity?'
+
+'As an act of justice ... as it's the duty of one poor man to help
+another poor man.'
+
+'Indeed! It's the first time I've heard that. I had supposed till now
+that that was rather the duty of rich people.'
+
+'For the rich, if I may venture to say so, it is an entertainment ... but
+for such as we ...'
+
+'Well, well, that's enough, that's enough,' my grandmother cut him
+short; and after a moment's thought she queried, speaking through her
+nose, which was always a bad sign, 'And what age is he, your protege?'
+
+'About my own age.'
+
+'Really, I imagined that you were bringing him up.'
+
+'Not so; he is my comrade--and besides ...'
+
+'That's enough,' my grandmother cut him short a second time. 'You're a
+philanthropist, it seems. Yakov Petrovitch is right; for a man in your
+position it's something very peculiar. But now let's get to business.
+I'll explain to you what your duties will be. And as regards wages....
+_Que faites vous ici?_' added my grandmother suddenly, turning her dry,
+yellow face to me:--'_Allez etudier votre devoir de mythologie._'
+
+I jumped up, went up to kiss my grandmother's hand, and went out,--not
+to study mythology, but simply into the garden.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The garden on my grandmother's estate was very old and large, and was
+bounded on one side by a flowing pond, in which there were not only
+plenty of carp and eels, but even loach were caught, those renowned
+loach, that have nowadays disappeared almost everywhere. At the head
+of this pond was a thick clump of willows; further and higher, on both
+sides of a rising slope, were dense bushes of hazel, elder,
+honeysuckle, and sloe-thorn, with an undergrowth of heather and clover
+flowers. Here and there between the bushes were tiny clearings,
+covered with emerald-green, silky, fine grass, in the midst of which
+squat funguses peeped out with their comical, variegated pink, lilac,
+and straw-coloured caps, and golden balls of 'hen-dazzle' blazed in
+light patches. Here in spring-time the nightingales sang, the
+blackbirds whistled, the cuckoos called; here in the heat of summer it
+was always cool--and I loved to make my way into the wilderness and
+thicket, where I had favourite secret spots, known--so, at least, I
+imagined--only to me.
+
+On coming out of my grandmother's room I made straight for one of these
+spots, which I had named 'Switzerland.' But what was my astonishment
+when, before I had reached 'Switzerland,' I perceived through the
+delicate network of half-dry twigs and green branches that some one
+besides me had found it out! A long, long figure in a long, loose coat
+of yellow frieze and a tall cap was standing in the very spot I loved
+best of all! I stole up a little nearer, and made out the face, which
+was utterly unknown to me, also very long and soft, with small reddish
+eyes, and a very funny nose; drawn out as long as a pod of peas, it
+positively over-hung the full lips; and these lips, quivering and
+forming a round O, were giving vent to a shrill little whistle, while
+the long fingers of the bony hands, placed facing one another on the
+upper part of the chest, were rapidly moving with a rotatory action.
+From time to time the motion of the hands subsided, the lips ceased
+whistling and quivering, the head was bent forward as though listening.
+I came still nearer, examined him still more closely.... The stranger
+held in each hand a small flat cup, such as people use to tease
+canaries and make them sing. A twig snapped under my feet; the stranger
+started, turned his dim little eyes towards the copse, and was
+staggering away ... but he stumbled against a tree, uttered an
+exclamation, and stood still.
+
+I came out into the open space. The stranger smiled.
+
+'Good morning,' said I.
+
+'Good morning, little master!'
+
+I did not like his calling me little master. Such familiarity!
+
+'What are you doing here?' I asked sternly.
+
+'Why, look here,' he responded, never leaving off smiling, 'I'm calling
+the little birds to sing.' He showed me his little cups. 'The
+chaffinches answer splendidly! You, at your tender years, take delight,
+no doubt, in the feathered songsters' notes! Listen, I beg; I will begin
+chirping, and they'll answer me directly--it's so delightful!'
+
+He began rubbing his little cups. A chaffinch actually did chirp in
+response from a mountain ash near. The stranger laughed without a sound,
+and winked at me.
+
+The laugh and the wink--every gesture of the stranger, his weak,
+lisping voice, his bent knees and thin hands, his very cap and long
+frieze coat--everything about him suggested good-nature, something
+innocent and droll.
+
+'Have you been here long?' I asked.
+
+'I came to-day.'
+
+'Why, aren't you the person of whom ...'
+
+'Mr. Baburin spoke to the lady here. The same, the same.'
+
+'Your friend's name's Baburin, and what's yours?'
+
+'I'm Punin. Punin's my name; Punin. He's Baburin and I'm Punin.' He set
+the little cups humming again. 'Listen, listen to the chaffinch.... How
+it carols!'
+
+This queer creature took my fancy 'awfully' all at once. Like almost all
+boys, I was either timid or consequential with strangers, but I felt
+with this man as if I had known him for ages.
+
+'Come along with me,' I said to him; 'I know a place better than
+this; there's a seat there; we can sit down, and we can see the dam
+from there.'
+
+'By all means let us go,' my new friend responded in his singing voice.
+I let him pass before me. As he walked he rolled from side to side,
+tripped over his own feet, and his head fell back.
+
+I noticed on the back of his coat, under the collar, there hung a small
+tassel. 'What's that you've got hanging there?' I asked.
+
+'Where?' he questioned, and he put his hand up to the collar to feel.
+'Ah, the tassel? Let it be! I suppose it was sewn there for ornament!
+It's not in the way.'
+
+I led him to the seat, and sat down; he settled himself beside me. 'It's
+lovely here!' he commented, and he drew a deep, deep sigh. 'Oh, how
+lovely! You have a most splendid garden! Oh, o--oh!'
+
+I looked at him from one side. 'What a queer cap you've got!' I couldn't
+help exclaiming. 'Show it me here!'
+
+'By all means, little master, by all means.' He took off the cap; I was
+holding out my hand, but I raised my eyes, and--simply burst out
+laughing. Punin was completely bald; not a single hair was to be seen on
+the high conical skull, covered with smooth white skin. He passed his
+open hand over it, and he too laughed. When he laughed he seemed, as it
+were, to gulp, he opened his mouth wide, closed his eyes--and vertical
+wrinkles flitted across his forehead in three rows, like waves. 'Eh,'
+said he at last, 'isn't it quite like an egg?'
+
+'Yes, yes, exactly like an egg!' I agreed with enthusiasm. 'And have you
+been like that long?'
+
+'Yes, a long while; but what hair I used to have!--A golden fleece like
+that for which the Argonauts sailed over the watery deeps.'
+
+Though I was only twelve, yet, thanks to my mythological studies, I knew
+who the Argonauts were; I was the more surprised at hearing the name on
+the lips of a man dressed almost in rags.
+
+'You must have learned mythology, then?' I queried, as I twisted his cap
+over and over in my hands. It turned out to be wadded, with a
+mangy-looking fur trimming, and a broken cardboard peak.
+
+'I have studied that subject, my dear little master; I've had time
+enough for everything in my life! But now restore to me my covering, it
+is a protection to the nakedness of my head.'
+
+He put on the cap, and, with a downward slope of his whitish eyebrows,
+asked me who I was, and who were my parents.
+
+'I'm the grandson of the lady who owns this place,' I answered. 'I live
+alone with her. Papa and mamma are dead.'
+
+Punin crossed himself. 'May the kingdom of heaven be theirs! So then,
+you're an orphan; and the heir, too. The noble blood in you is visible
+at once; it fairly sparkles in your eyes, and plays like this ... sh ...
+sh ... sh ...' He represented with his fingers the play of the blood.
+'Well, and do you know, your noble honour, whether my friend has come to
+terms with your grandmamma, whether he has obtained the situation he was
+promised?'
+
+'I don't know.'
+
+Punin cleared his throat. 'Ah! if one could be settled here, if only for
+a while! Or else one may wander and wander far, and find not a place to
+rest one's head; the disquieting alarms of life are unceasing, the soul
+is confounded....'
+
+'Tell me,' I interrupted: 'are you of the clerical profession?'
+
+Punin turned to me and half closed his eyelids. 'And what may be the
+cause of that question, gentle youth?'
+
+'Why, you talk so--well, as they read in church.'
+
+'Because I use the old scriptural forms of expression? But that ought
+not to surprise you. Admitting that in ordinary conversation such forms
+of expression are not always in place; but when one soars on the wings
+of inspiration, at once the language too grows more exalted. Surely your
+teacher--the professor of Russian literature--you do have lessons in
+that, I suppose?--surely he teaches you that, doesn't he?'
+
+'No, he doesn't,' I responded. 'When we stay in the country I have no
+teacher. In Moscow I have a great many teachers.'
+
+'And will you be staying long in the country?'
+
+'Two months, not longer; grandmother says that I'm spoilt in the
+country, though I have a governess even here.'
+
+'A French governess?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Punin scratched behind his ear. 'A mamselle, that's to say?'
+
+'Yes; she's called Mademoiselle Friquet.' I suddenly felt it
+disgraceful for me, a boy of twelve, to have not a tutor, but a
+governess, like a little girl! 'But I don't mind her,' I added
+contemptuously. 'What do I care!'
+
+Punin shook his head. 'Ah, you gentlefolk, you gentlefolk! you're too
+fond of foreigners! You have turned away from what is Russian,--towards
+all that's strange. You've turned your hearts to those that come from
+foreign parts....'
+
+'Hullo! Are you talking in verse?' I asked.
+
+'Well, and why not? I can do that always, as much as you please; for it
+comes natural to me....'
+
+But at that very instant there sounded in the garden behind us a loud
+and shrill whistle. My new acquaintance hurriedly got up from the bench.
+
+'Good-bye, little sir; that's my friend calling me, looking for me....
+What has he to tell me? Good-bye--excuse me....'
+
+He plunged into the bushes and vanished, while I sat on some time longer
+on the seat. I felt perplexity and another feeling, rather an agreeable
+one ... I had never met nor spoken to any one like this before.
+Gradually I fell to dreaming, but recollected my mythology and sauntered
+towards the house.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At home, I learned that my grandmother had arranged to take Baburin; he
+had been assigned a small room in the servants' quarters, overlooking
+the stable-yard. He had at once settled in there with his friend.
+
+When I had drunk my tea, next morning, without asking leave of
+Mademoiselle Friquet, I set off to the servants' quarters. I wanted to
+have another chat with the queer fellow I had seen the day before.
+Without knocking at the door--the very idea of doing so would never have
+occurred to us--I walked straight into the room. I found in it not the
+man I was looking for, not Punin, but his protector--the philanthropist,
+Baburin. He was standing before the window, without his outer garment,
+his legs wide apart. He was busily engaged in rubbing his head and neck
+with a long towel.
+
+'What do you want?' he observed, keeping his hands still raised, and
+knitting his brows.
+
+'Punin's not at home, then?' I queried in the most free-and-easy manner,
+without taking off my cap.
+
+'Mr. Punin, Nikander Vavilitch, at this moment, is not at home, truly,'
+Baburin responded deliberately; 'but allow me to make an observation,
+young man: it's not the proper thing to come into another person's room
+like this, without asking leave.'
+
+I! ... young man! ... how dared he! ... I grew crimson with fury.
+
+'You cannot be aware who I am,' I rejoined, in a manner no longer
+free-and-easy, but haughty. 'I am the grandson of the mistress here.'
+
+'That's all the same to me,' retorted Baburin, setting to work with his
+towel again. 'Though you are the seignorial grandson, you have no right
+to come into other people's rooms.'
+
+'Other people's? What do you mean? I'm--at home here--everywhere.'
+
+'No, excuse me: here--I'm at home; since this room has been assigned to
+me, by agreement, in exchange for my work.'
+
+'Don't teach me, if you please,' I interrupted: 'I know better than
+you what ...'
+
+'You must be taught,' he interrupted in his turn, 'for you're at an age
+when you ... I know my duties, but I know my rights too very well, and
+if you continue to speak to me in that way, I shall have to ask you to
+go out of the room....'
+
+There is no knowing how our dispute would have ended if Punin had not at
+that instant entered, shuffling and shambling from side to side. He most
+likely guessed from the expression of our faces that some unpleasantness
+had passed between us, and at once turned to me with the warmest
+expressions of delight.
+
+'Ah! little master! little master!' he cried, waving his hands wildly,
+and going off into his noiseless laugh: 'the little dear! come to pay me
+a visit! here he's come, the little dear!' (What's the meaning of it? I
+thought: can he be speaking in this familiar way to me?) 'There, come
+along, come with me into the garden. I've found something there.... Why
+stay in this stuffiness here! let's go!'
+
+I followed Punin, but in the doorway I thought it as well to turn round
+and fling a glance of defiance at Baburin, as though to say, I'm not
+afraid of you!
+
+He responded in the same way, and positively snorted into the
+towel--probably to make me thoroughly aware how utterly he despised me!
+
+What an insolent fellow your friend is!' I said to Punin, directly the
+door had closed behind me.
+
+Almost with horror, Punin turned his plump face to me.
+
+'To whom did you apply that expression?' he asked me, with round eyes.
+
+'Why, to him, of course.... What's his name? that ... Baburin.'
+
+'Paramon Semyonevitch?'
+
+'Why, yes; that ... blackfaced fellow.'
+
+'Eh ... eh ... eh ...!' Punin protested, with caressing reproachfulness.
+'How can you talk like that, little master! Paramon Semyonevitch is the
+most estimable man, of the strictest principles, an extraordinary
+person! To be sure, he won't allow any disrespect to him, because--he
+knows his own value. That man possesses a vast amount of knowledge--and
+it's not a place like this he ought to be filling! You must, my dear,
+behave very courteously to him; do you know, he's ...' here Punin bent
+down quite to my ear,--'a republican!'
+
+I stared at Punin. This I had not at all expected. From Keidanov's
+manual and other historical works I had gathered the fact that at some
+period or other, in ancient times, there had existed republicans, Greeks
+and Romans. For some unknown reason I had always pictured them all in
+helmets, with round shields on their arms, and big bare legs; but that
+in real life, in the actual present, above all, in Russia, in the
+province of X----, one could come across republicans--that upset all my
+notions, and utterly confounded them!
+
+'Yes, my dear, yes; Paramon Semyonitch is a republican,' repeated Punin;
+'there, so you'll know for the future how one should speak of a man like
+that! But now let's go into the garden. Fancy what I've found there! A
+cuckoo's egg in a redstart's nest! a lovely thing!'
+
+I went into the garden with Punin; but mentally I kept repeating:
+'republican! re ... pub ... lican!'
+
+'So,' I decided at last--'that's why he has such a blue chin!'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+My attitude to these two persons--Punin and Baburin--took definite shape
+from that very day. Baburin aroused in me a feeling of hostility with
+which there was, however, in a short time, mingled something akin to
+respect. And wasn't I afraid of him! I never got over being afraid of
+him even when the sharp severity of his manner with me at first had
+quite disappeared. It is needless to say that of Punin I had no fear; I
+did not even respect him; I looked upon him--not to put too fine a point
+on it--as a buffoon; but I loved him with my whole soul! To spend hours
+at a time in his company, to be alone with him, to listen to his
+stories, became a genuine delight to me. My grandmother was anything but
+pleased at this _intimite_ with a person of the 'lower classes'--_du
+commun_; but, whenever I could break away, I flew at once to my queer,
+amusing, beloved friend. Our meetings became more frequent after the
+departure of Mademoiselle Friquet, whom my grandmother sent back to
+Moscow in disgrace because, in conversation with a military staff
+captain, visiting in the neighbourhood, she had had the insolence to
+complain of the dulness which reigned in our household. And Punin, for
+his part, was not bored by long conversations with a boy of twelve; he
+seemed to seek them of himself. How often have I listened to his
+stories, sitting with him in the fragrant shade, on the dry, smooth
+grass, under the canopy of the silver poplars, or among the reeds above
+the pond, on the coarse, damp sand of the hollow bank, from which the
+knotted roots protruded, queerly interlaced, like great black veins,
+like snakes, like creatures emerging from some subterranean region!
+Punin told me the whole story of his life in minute detail, describing
+all his happy adventures, and all his misfortunes, with which I always
+felt the sincerest sympathy! His father had been a deacon;--'a splendid
+man--but, under the influence of drink, stern to the last extreme.'
+
+Punin himself had received his education in a seminary; but, unable to
+stand the severe thrashings, and feeling no inclination for the priestly
+calling, he had become a layman, and in consequence had experienced all
+sorts of hardships; and, finally, had become a vagrant. 'And had I not
+met with my benefactor, Paramon Semyonitch,' Punin commonly added (he
+never spoke of Baburin except in this way), 'I should have sunk into the
+miry abysses of poverty and vice.' Punin was fond of high-sounding
+expressions, and had a great propensity, if not for lying, for romancing
+and exaggeration; he admired everything, fell into ecstasies over
+everything.... And I, in imitation of him, began to exaggerate and be
+ecstatic, too. 'What a crazy fellow you've grown! God have mercy on
+you!' my old nurse used to say to me. Punin's narratives used to
+interest me extremely; but even better than his stories I loved the
+readings we used to have together.
+
+It is impossible to describe the feeling I experienced when, snatching
+a favourable moment, suddenly, like a hermit in a tale or a good fairy,
+he appeared before me with a ponderous volume under his arm, and
+stealthily beckoning with his long crooked finger, and winking
+mysteriously, he pointed with his head, his eyebrows, his shoulders,
+his whole person, toward the deepest recesses of the garden, whither no
+one could penetrate after us, and where it was impossible to find us
+out. And when we had succeeded in getting away unnoticed; when we had
+satisfactorily reached one of our secret nooks, and were sitting side
+by side, and, at last, the book was slowly opened, emitting a pungent
+odour, inexpressibly sweet to me then, of mildew and age;--with what a
+thrill, with what a wave of dumb expectancy, I gazed at the face, at
+the lips of Punin, those lips from which in a moment a stream of such
+delicious eloquence was to flow! At last the first sounds of the
+reading were heard. Everything around me vanished ... no, not vanished,
+but grew far away, passed into clouds of mist, leaving behind only an
+impression of something friendly and protecting. Those trees, those
+green leaves, those high grasses screen us, hide us from all the rest
+of the world; no one knows where we are, what we are about--while with
+us is poetry, we are saturated in it, intoxicated with it, something
+solemn, grand, mysterious is happening to us.... Punin, by preference,
+kept to poetry, musical, sonorous poetry; he was ready to lay down his
+life for poetry. He did not read, he declaimed the verse majestically,
+in a torrent of rhythm, in a rolling outpour through his nose, like a
+man intoxicated, lifted out of himself, like the Pythian priestess. And
+another habit he had: first he would lisp the verses through softly, in
+a whisper, as it were mumbling them to himself.... This he used to call
+the rough sketch of the reading; then he would thunder out the same
+verse in its 'fair copy,' and would all at once leap up, throw up his
+hand, with a half-supplicating, half-imperious gesture.... In this way
+we went through not only Lomonosov, Sumarokov, and Kantemir (the older
+the poems, the more they were to Punin's taste), but even Heraskov's
+_Rossiad_. And, to tell the truth, it was this same _Rossiad_ which
+aroused my enthusiasm most. There is in it, among others, a mighty
+Tatar woman, a gigantic heroine; I have forgotten even her name now;
+but in those days my hands and feet turned cold as soon as it was
+mentioned. 'Yes,' Punin would say, nodding his head with great
+significance, 'Heraskov, he doesn't let one off easily. At times one
+comes upon a line, simply heart-breaking.... One can only stick to it,
+and do one's best.... One tries to master it, but he breaks away again
+and trumpets, trumpets, with the crash of cymbals. His name's been well
+bestowed on him--the very word, Herrraskov!' Lomonosov Punin found
+fault with for too simple and free a style; while to Derzhavin he
+maintained an attitude almost of hostility, saying that he was more of
+a courtier than a poet. In our house it was not merely that no
+attention was given to literature, to poetry; but poetry, especially
+Russian poetry, was looked upon as something quite undignified and
+vulgar; my grandmother did not even call it poetry, but 'doggrel
+verses'; every author of such doggrel was, in her opinion, either a
+confirmed toper or a perfect idiot. Brought up among such ideas, it was
+inevitable that I should either turn from Punin with disgust--he was
+untidy and shabby into the bargain, which was an offence to my
+seignorial habits--or that, attracted and captivated by him, I should
+follow his example, and be infected by his passion for poetry.... And
+so it turned out. I, too, began reading poetry, or, as my grandmother
+expressed it, poring over doggrel trash.... I even tried my hand at
+versifying, and composed a poem, descriptive of a barrel-organ, in
+which occurred the following two lines:
+
+
+  'Lo, the barrel turns around,
+  And the cogs within resound.'
+
+
+Punin commended in this effort a certain imitative melody, but
+disapproved of the subject itself as low and unworthy of lyrical
+treatment.
+
+Alas! all those efforts and emotions and transports, our solitary
+readings, our life together, our poetry, all came to an end at once.
+Trouble broke upon us suddenly, like a clap of thunder.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+My grandmother in everything liked cleanliness and order, quite in the
+spirit of the active generals of those days; cleanliness and order were
+to be maintained too in our garden. And so from time to time they
+'drove' into it poor peasants, who had no families, no land, no beasts
+of their own, and those among the house serfs who were out of favour or
+superannuated, and set them to clearing the paths, weeding the borders,
+breaking up and sifting the earth in the beds, and so on. Well, one day,
+in the very heat of these operations, my grandmother went into the
+garden, and took me with her. On all sides, among the trees and about
+the lawns, we caught glimpses of white, red, and blue smocks; on all
+sides we heard the scraping and clanging of spades, the dull thud of
+clods of earth on the slanting sieves. As she passed by the labourers,
+my grandmother with her eagle eye noticed at once that one of them was
+working with less energy than the rest, and that he took off his cap,
+too, with no show of eagerness. This was a youth, still quite young,
+with a wasted face, and sunken, lustreless eyes. His cotton smock, all
+torn and patched, scarcely held together over his narrow shoulders.
+
+'Who's that?' my grandmother inquired of Filippitch, who was walking on
+tiptoe behind her.
+
+'Of whom ... you are pleased ...' Filippitch stammered.
+
+'Oh, fool! I mean the one that looked so sullenly at me. There, standing
+yonder, not working.'
+
+'Oh, him! Yes ... th ... th ... that's Yermil, son of Pavel Afanasiitch,
+now deceased.'
+
+Pavel Afanasiitch had been, ten years before, head butler in my
+grandmother's house, and stood particularly high in her favour. But
+suddenly falling into disgrace, he was as suddenly degraded to being
+herdsman, and did not long keep even that position. He sank lower still,
+and struggled on for a while on a monthly pittance of flour in a little
+hut far away. At last he had died of paralysis, leaving his family in
+the most utter destitution.
+
+'Aha!' commented my grandmother; 'it's clear the apple's not fallen far
+from the tree. Well, we shall have to make arrangements about this
+fellow too. I've no need of people like that, with scowling faces.'
+
+My grandmother went back to the house--and made arrangements. Three
+hours later Yermil, completely 'equipped,' was brought under the window
+of her room. The unfortunate boy was being transported to a settlement;
+the other side of the fence, a few steps from him, was a little cart
+loaded with his poor belongings. Such were the times then. Yermil stood
+without his cap, with downcast head, barefoot, with his boots tied up
+with a string behind his back; his face, turned towards the seignorial
+mansion, expressed not despair nor grief, nor even bewilderment; a
+stupid smile was frozen on his colourless lips; his eyes, dry and
+half-closed, looked stubbornly on the ground. My grandmother was
+apprised of his presence. She got up from the sofa, went, with a faint
+rustle of her silken skirts, to the window of the study, and, holding
+her golden-rimmed double eyeglass on the bridge of her nose, looked at
+the new exile. In her room there happened to be at the moment four other
+persons, the butler, Baburin, the page who waited on my grandmother in
+the daytime, and I.
+
+My grandmother nodded her head up and down....
+
+'Madam,' a hoarse almost stifled voice was heard suddenly. I looked
+round. Baburin's face was red ... dark red; under his overhanging brows
+could be seen little sharp points of light.... There was no doubt about
+it; it was he, it was Baburin, who had uttered the word 'Madam.'
+
+My grandmother too looked round, and turned her eyeglass from Yermil
+to Baburin.
+
+'Who is that ... speaking?' she articulated slowly ... through her nose.
+Baburin moved slightly forward.
+
+'Madam,' he began, 'it is I.... I venture ... I imagine ... I make bold
+to submit to your honour that you are making a mistake in acting as ...
+as you are pleased to act at this moment.'
+
+'That is?' my grandmother said, in the same voice, not removing
+her eyeglass.
+
+'I take the liberty ...' Baburin went on distinctly, uttering every word
+though with obvious effort--'I am referring to the case of this lad who
+is being sent away to a settlement ... for no fault of his. Such
+arrangements, I venture to submit, lead to dissatisfaction, and to
+other--which God forbid!--consequences, and are nothing else than a
+transgression of the powers allowed to seignorial proprietors.'
+
+'And where have you studied, pray?' my grandmother asked after a short
+silence, and she dropped her eyeglass.
+
+Baburin was disconcerted. 'What are you pleased to wish?' he muttered.
+
+'I ask you: where have you studied? You use such learned words.'
+
+'I ... my education ...' Baburin was beginning.
+
+My grandmother shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. 'It seems,' she
+interrupted, 'that my arrangements are not to your liking. That is of
+absolutely no consequence to me--among my subjects I am sovereign, and
+answerable to no one for them, only I am not accustomed to having people
+criticising me in my presence, and meddling in what is not their
+business. I have no need of learned philanthropists of nondescript
+position; I want servants to do my will without question. So I always
+lived till you came, and so I shall live after you've gone. You do not
+suit me; you are discharged. Nikolai Antonov,' my grandmother turned to
+the steward, 'pay this man off; and let him be gone before dinner-time
+to-day! D'you hear? Don't put me into a passion. And the other too ...
+the fool that lives with him--to be sent off too. What's Yermilka
+waiting for?' she added, looking out of window, 'I have seen him. What
+more does he want?' My grandmother shook her handkerchief in the
+direction of the window, as though to drive away an importunate fly.
+Then she sat down in a low chair, and turning towards us, gave the order
+grimly: 'Everybody present to leave the room!'
+
+We all withdrew--all, except the day page, to whom my grandmother's
+words did not apply, because he was nobody.
+
+My grandmother's decree was carried out to the letter. Before dinner,
+both Baburin and my friend Punin were driving away from the place. I
+will not undertake to describe my grief, my genuine, truly childish
+despair. It was so strong that it stifled even the feeling of
+awe-stricken admiration inspired by the bold action of the republican
+Baburin. After the conversation with my grandmother, he went at once to
+his room and began packing up. He did not vouchsafe me one word, one
+look, though I was the whole time hanging about him, or rather, in
+reality, about Punin. The latter was utterly distraught, and he too said
+nothing; but he was continually glancing at me, and tears stood in his
+eyes ... always the same tears; they neither fell nor dried up. He did
+not venture to criticise his 'benefactor'--Paramon Semyonitch could not
+make a mistake,--but great was his distress and dejection. Punin and I
+made an effort to read something out of the _Rossiad_ for the last time;
+we even locked ourselves up in the lumber-room--it was useless to dream
+of going into the garden--but at the very first line we both broke down,
+and I fairly bellowed like a calf, in spite of my twelve years, and my
+claims to be grown-up.
+
+When he had taken his seat in the carriage Baburin at last turned to me,
+and with a slight softening of the accustomed sternness of his face,
+observed: 'It's a lesson for you, young gentleman; remember this
+incident, and when you grow up, try to put an end to such acts of
+injustice. Your heart is good, your nature is not yet corrupted....
+Mind, be careful; things can't go on like this!' Through my tears, which
+streamed copiously over my nose, my lips, and my chin, I faltered out
+that I would ... I would remember, that I promised ... I would do ... I
+would be sure ... quite sure ...
+
+But at this point, Punin, whom I had before this embraced twenty times
+(my cheeks were burning from the contact with his unshaven beard, and I
+was odoriferous of the smell that always clung to him)--at this point a
+sudden frenzy came over Punin. He jumped up on the seat of the cart,
+flung both hands up in the air, and began in a voice of thunder (where
+he got it from!) to declaim the well-known paraphrase of the Psalm of
+David by Derzhavin,--a poet for this occasion--not a courtier.
+
+  'God the All-powerful doth arise
+  And judgeth in the congregation of the mighty! ...
+  How long, how long, saith the Lord,
+  Will ye have mercy on the wicked?
+  "Ye have to keep the laws...."'
+
+'Sit down!' Baburin said to him.
+
+Punin sat down, but continued:
+
+  'To save the guiltless and needy,
+  To give shelter to the afflicted,
+  To defend the weak from the oppressors.'
+
+Punin at the word 'oppressors' pointed to the seignorial abode, and then
+poked the driver in the back.
+
+  'To deliver the poor out of bondage!
+  They know not! neither will they understand! ...'
+
+Nikolai Antonov running out of the seignorial abode, shouted at the top
+of his voice to the coachman: 'Get away with you! owl! go along! don't
+stay lingering here!' and the cart rolled away. Only in the distance
+could still be heard:
+
+  'Arise, O Lord God of righteousness! ...
+  Come forth to judge the unjust--
+  And be Thou the only Ruler of the nations!'
+
+'What a clown!' remarked Nikolai Antonov.
+
+'He didn't get enough of the rod in his young days,' observed the
+deacon, appearing on the steps. He had come to inquire what hour it
+would please the mistress to fix for the night service.
+
+The same day, learning that Yermil was still in the village, and would
+not till early next morning be despatched to the town for the execution
+of certain legal formalities, which were intended to check the
+arbitrary proceedings of the landowners, but served only as a source of
+additional revenue to the functionaries in superintendence of them, I
+sought him out, and, for lack of money of my own, handed him a bundle,
+in which I had tied up two pocket-handkerchiefs, a shabby pair of
+slippers, a comb, an old night-gown, and a perfectly new silk cravat.
+Yermil, whom I had to wake up--he was lying on a heap of straw in the
+back yard, near the cart--Yermil took my present rather indifferently,
+with some hesitation in fact, did not thank me, promptly poked his head
+into the straw and fell asleep again. I went home somewhat
+disappointed. I had imagined that he would be astonished and overjoyed
+at my visit, would see in it a pledge of my magnanimous intentions for
+the future--and instead of that ...
+
+'You may say what you like--these people have no feeling,' was my
+reflection on my homeward way.
+
+My grandmother, who had for some reason left me in peace the whole of
+that memorable day, looked at me suspiciously when I came after supper
+to say good-night to her.
+
+'Your eyes are red,' she observed to me in French; 'and there's a smell
+of the peasant's hut about you. I am not going to enter into an
+examination of what you've been feeling and doing--I should not like to
+be obliged to punish you--but I hope you will get over all your
+foolishness, and begin to conduct yourself once more in a manner
+befitting a well-bred boy. However, we are soon going back to Moscow,
+and I shall get you a tutor--as I see you need a man's hand to manage
+you. You can go.'
+
+We did, as a fact, go back soon after to Moscow.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+1837
+
+
+Seven years had passed by. We were living as before at Moscow--but I was
+by now a student in my second year--and the authority of my grandmother,
+who had aged very perceptibly in the last years, no longer weighed upon
+me. Of all my fellow-students the one with whom I was on the friendliest
+terms was a light-hearted and good-natured youth called Tarhov. Our
+habits and our tastes were similar. Tarhov was a great lover of poetry,
+and himself wrote verses; while in me the seeds sown by Punin had not
+been without fruit. As is often the case with young people who are very
+close friends, we had no secrets from one another. But behold, for
+several days together I noticed a certain excitement and agitation in
+Tarhov.... He disappeared for hours at a time, and I did not know where
+he had got to--a thing which had never happened before. I was on the
+point of demanding, in the name of friendship, a full explanation.... He
+anticipated me.
+
+One day I was sitting in his room.... 'Petya,' he said suddenly,
+blushing gaily, and looking me straight in the face, 'I must introduce
+you to my muse.'
+
+'Your muse! how queerly you talk! Like a classicist. (Romanticism was at
+that time, in 1837, at its full height.) As if I had not known it ever
+so long--your muse! Have you written a new poem, or what?'
+
+'You don't understand what I mean,' rejoined Tarhov, still laughing and
+blushing. 'I will introduce you to a living muse.'
+
+'Aha! so that's it! But how is she--yours?'
+
+'Why, because ... But hush, I believe it's she coming here.'
+
+There was the light click of hurrying heels, the door opened, and in the
+doorway appeared a girl of eighteen, in a chintz cotton gown, with a
+black cloth cape on her shoulders, and a black straw hat on her fair,
+rather curly hair. On seeing me she was frightened and disconcerted, and
+was beating a retreat ... but Tarhov at once rushed to meet her.
+
+'Please, please, Musa Pavlovna, come in! This is my great friend, a
+splendid fellow--and the soul of discretion. You've no need to be afraid
+of him. Petya,' he turned to me, 'let me introduce my Musa--Musa
+Pavlovna Vinogradov, a great friend of mine.'
+
+I bowed.
+
+'How is that ... Musa?' I was beginning.... Tarhov laughed. 'Ah, you
+didn't know there was such a name in the calendar? I didn't know it
+either, my boy, till I met this dear young lady. Musa! such a charming
+name! And suits her so well!'
+
+I bowed again to my comrade's great friend. She left the door, took two
+steps forward and stood still. She was very attractive, but I could not
+agree with Tarhov's opinion, and inwardly said to myself: 'Well, she's a
+strange sort of muse!'
+
+The features of her curved, rosy face were small and delicate; there was
+an air of fresh, buoyant youth about all her slender, miniature figure;
+but of the muse, of the personification of the muse, I--and not only
+I--all the young people of that time had a very different conception!
+First of all the muse had infallibly to be dark-haired and pale. An
+expression of scornful pride, a bitter smile, a glance of inspiration,
+and that 'something'--mysterious, demonic, fateful--that was essential
+to our conception of the muse, the muse of Byron, who at that time held
+sovereign sway over men's fancies. There was nothing of that kind to be
+discerned in the face of the girl who came in. Had I been a little older
+and more experienced I should probably have paid more attention to her
+eyes, which were small and deep-set, with full lids, but dark as agate,
+alert and bright, a thing rare in fair-haired people. Poetical
+tendencies I should not have detected in their rapid, as it were
+elusive, glance, but hints of a passionate soul, passionate to
+self-forgetfulness. But I was very young then.
+
+I held out my hand to Musa Pavlovna--she did not give me hers--she did
+not notice my movement; she sat down on the chair Tarhov placed for her,
+but did not take off her hat and cape.
+
+She was, obviously, ill at ease; my presence embarrassed her. She
+drew deep breaths, at irregular intervals, as though she were
+gasping for air.
+
+'I've only come to you for one minute, Vladimir Nikolaitch,' she
+began--her voice was very soft and deep; from her crimson, almost
+childish lips, it seemed rather strange;--'but our madame would not let
+me out for more than half an hour. You weren't well the day before
+yesterday ... and so, I thought ...'
+
+She stammered and hung her head. Under the shade of her thick, low brows
+her dark eyes darted--to and fro--elusively. There are dark, swift,
+flashing beetles that flit so in the heat of summer among the blades of
+dry grass.
+
+'How good you are, Musa, Musotchka!' cried Tarhov. 'But you must stay,
+you must stay a little.... We'll have the samovar in directly.'
+
+'Oh no, Vladimir Nikolaevitch! it's impossible! I must go away
+this minute.'
+
+'You must rest a little, anyway. You're out of breath.... You're tired.'
+
+'I'm not tired. It's ... not that ... only ... give me another book;
+I've finished this one.' She took out of her pocket a tattered grey
+volume of a Moscow edition.
+
+'Of course, of course. Well, did you like it? _Roslavlev_,' added
+Tarhov, addressing me.
+
+'Yes. Only I think _Yury Miloslavsky_ is much better. Our madame is very
+strict about books. She says they hinder our working. For, to her
+thinking ...'
+
+'But, I say, _Yury Miloslavsky_'s not equal to Pushkin's _Gipsies_? Eh?
+Musa Pavlovna?' Tarhov broke in with a smile.
+
+'No, indeed! The _Gipsies_ ...' she murmured slowly. 'Oh yes, another
+thing, Vladimir Nikolaitch; don't come to-morrow ... you know where.'
+
+'Why not?'
+
+'It's impossible.'
+
+'But why?'
+
+The girl shrugged her shoulders, and all at once, as though she had
+received a sudden shove, got up from her chair.
+
+'Why, Musa, Musotchka,' Tarhov expostulated plaintively. 'Stay a
+little!'
+
+'No, no, I can't.' She went quickly to the door, took hold of the
+handle....
+
+'Well, at least, take the book!'
+
+'Another time.'
+
+Tarhov rushed towards the girl, but at that instant she darted out of
+the room. He almost knocked his nose against the door. 'What a girl!
+She's a regular little viper!' he declared with some vexation, and then
+sank into thought.
+
+I stayed at Tarhov's. I wanted to find out what was the meaning of it
+all. Tarhov was not disposed to be reserved. He told me that the girl
+was a milliner; that he had seen her for the first time three weeks
+before in a fashionable shop, where he had gone on a commission for his
+sister, who lived in the provinces, to buy a hat; that he had fallen in
+love with her at first sight, and that next day he had succeeded in
+speaking to her in the street; that she had herself, it seemed, taken
+rather a fancy to him.
+
+'Only, please, don't you suppose,' he added with warmth,--'don't you
+imagine any harm of her. So far, at any rate, there's been nothing of
+that sort between us.
+
+'Harm!' I caught him up; 'I've no doubt of that; and I've no doubt
+either that you sincerely deplore the fact, my dear fellow! Have
+patience--everything will come right'
+
+'I hope so,' Tarhov muttered through his teeth, though with a laugh.
+'But really, my boy, that girl ... I tell you--it's a new type, you
+know. You hadn't time to get a good look at her. She's a shy thing!--oo!
+such a shy thing! and what a will of her own! But that very shyness is
+what I like in her. It's a sign of independence! I'm simply over head
+and ears, my boy!'
+
+Tarhov fell to talking of his 'charmer,' and even read me the beginning
+of a poem entitled: 'My Muse.' His emotional outpourings were not quite
+to my taste. I felt secretly jealous of him. I soon left him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few days after I happened to be passing through one of the arcades of
+the Gostinny Dvor. It was Saturday; there were crowds of people
+shopping; on all sides, in the midst of the pushing and crushing, the
+shopmen kept shouting to people to buy. Having bought what I wanted, I
+was thinking of nothing but getting away from their teasing importunity
+as soon as possible--when all at once I halted involuntarily: in a fruit
+shop I caught sight of my comrade's charmer--Musa, Musa Pavlovna! She
+was standing, profile to me, and seemed to be waiting for something.
+After a moment's hesitation I made up my mind to go up to her and speak.
+But I had hardly passed through the doorway of the shop and taken off my
+cap, when she tottered back dismayed, turned quickly to an old man in a
+frieze cloak, for whom the shopman was weighing out a pound of raisins,
+and clutched at his arm, as though fleeing to put herself under his
+protection. The latter, in his turn, wheeled round facing her--and,
+imagine my amazement, I recognised him as Punin!
+
+Yes, it was he; there were his inflamed eyes, his full lips, his soft,
+overhanging nose. He had, in fact, changed little during the last seven
+years; his face was a little flabbier, perhaps.
+
+'Nikander Vavilitch!' I cried. 'Don't you know me?' Punin started,
+opened his mouth, stared at me....
+
+'I haven't the honour,' he was beginning--and all at once he piped out
+shrilly: 'The little master of Troitsky (my grandmother's property was
+called Troitsky)! Can it be the little master of Troitsky?'
+
+The pound of raisins tumbled out of his hands.
+
+'It really is,' I answered, and, picking up Punin's purchase from the
+ground, I kissed him.
+
+He was breathless with delight and excitement; he almost cried, removed
+his cap--which enabled me to satisfy myself that the last traces of hair
+had vanished from his 'egg'--took a handkerchief out of it, blew his
+nose, poked the cap into his bosom with the raisins, put it on again,
+again dropped the raisins.... I don't know how Musa was behaving all
+this time, I tried not to look at her. I don't imagine Punin's agitation
+proceeded from any extreme attachment to my person; it was simply that
+his nature could not stand the slightest unexpected shock. The nervous
+excitability of these poor devils!
+
+'Come and see us, my dear boy,' he faltered at last; 'you won't be too
+proud to visit our humble nest? You're a student, I see ...'
+
+'On the contrary, I shall be delighted, really.'
+
+'Are you independent now?'
+
+'Perfectly independent.'
+
+'That's capital! How pleased Paramon Semyonitch will be! To-day he'll be
+home earlier than usual, and madame lets her, too, off for Saturdays.
+But, stop, excuse me, I am quite forgetting myself. Of course, you don't
+know our niece!'
+
+I hastened to slip in that I had not yet had the pleasure.
+
+'Of course, of course! How could you know her! Musotchka ... Take note,
+my dear sir, this girl's name is Musa--and it's not a nickname, but her
+real name ... Isn't that a predestination? Musotchka, I want to
+introduce you to Mr. ... Mr. ...'
+
+'B.,' I prompted.
+
+'B.,' he repeated. 'Musotchka, listen! You see before you the most
+excellent, most delightful of young men. Fate threw us together when he
+was still in years of boyhood! I beg you to look on him as a friend!'
+
+I swung off a low bow. Musa, red as a poppy, flashed a look on me from
+under her eyelids, and dropped them immediately.
+
+'Ah!' thought I, 'you 're one of those who in difficult moments don't
+turn pale, but red; that must be made a note of.'
+
+'You must be indulgent, she's not a fine lady,' observed Punin, and he
+went out of the shop into the street; Musa and I followed him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The house in which Punin lodged was a considerable distance from the
+Gostinny Dvor, being, in fact, in Sadovoy Street. On the way my former
+preceptor in poetry had time to communicate a good many details of his
+mode of existence. Since the time of our parting, both he and Baburin
+had been tossed about holy Russia pretty thoroughly, and had not
+long--only a year and a half before--found a permanent home in Moscow.
+Baburin had succeeded in becoming head-clerk in the office of a rich
+merchant and manufacturer. 'Not a lucrative berth,' Punin observed with
+a sigh,--'a lot of work, and not much profit ... but what's one to do?
+One must be thankful to get that! I, too, am trying to earn something by
+copying and lessons; only my efforts have so far not been crowned with
+success. My writing, you perhaps recollect, is old-fashioned, not in
+accordance with the tastes of the day; and as regards lessons--what has
+been a great obstacle is the absence of befitting attire; moreover, I
+greatly fear that in the matter of instruction--in the subject of
+Russian literature--I am also not in harmony with the tastes of the day;
+and so it comes about that I am turned away.' (Punin laughed his sleepy,
+subdued laugh. He had retained his old, somewhat high-flown manner of
+speech, and his old weakness for falling into rhyme.) 'All run after
+novelties, nothing but innovations! I dare say you, too, do not honour
+the old divinities, and fall down before new idols?'
+
+'And you, Nikander Vavilitch, do you really still esteem Heraskov?'
+
+Punin stood still and waved both hands at once. 'In the highest degree,
+sir! in the high ... est de ... gree, I do!'
+
+'And you don't read Pushkin? You don't like Pushkin?'
+
+Punin again flung his hands up higher than his head.
+
+'Pushkin? Pushkin is the snake, lying hid in the grass, who is endowed
+with the note of the nightingale!'
+
+While Punin and I talked like this, cautiously picking our way over the
+unevenly laid brick pavement of so-called 'white-stoned' Moscow--in
+which there is not one stone, and which is not white at all--Musa walked
+silently beside us on the side further from me. In speaking of her, I
+called her 'your niece.' Punin was silent for a little, scratched his
+head, and informed me in an undertone that he had called her so ...
+merely as a manner of speaking; that she was really no relation; that
+she was an orphan picked up and cared for by Baburin in the town of
+Voronezh; but that he, Punin, might well call her daughter, as he loved
+her no less than a real daughter. I had no doubt that, though Punin
+intentionally dropped his voice, Musa could hear all he said very well;
+and she was at once angry, and shy, and embarrassed; and the lights and
+shades chased each other over her face, and everything in it was
+slightly quivering, the eyelids and brows and lips and narrow nostrils.
+All this was very charming, and amusing, and queer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But at last we reached the 'modest nest.' And modest it certainly was,
+the nest. It consisted of a small, one-storied house, that seemed almost
+sunk into the ground, with a slanting wooden roof, and four dingy
+windows in the front. The furniture of the rooms was of the poorest, and
+not over tidy, indeed. Between the windows and on the walls hung about a
+dozen tiny wooden cages containing larks, canaries, and siskins. 'My
+subjects!' Punin pronounced triumphantly, pointing his finger at them.
+We had hardly time to get in and look about us, Punin had hardly sent
+Musa for the samovar, when Baburin himself came in. He seemed to me to
+have aged much more than Punin, though his step was as firm as ever, and
+the expression of his face altogether was unchanged; but he had grown
+thin and bent, his cheeks were sunken, and his thick black shock of hair
+was sprinkled with grey. He did not recognise me, and showed no
+particular pleasure when Punin mentioned my name; he did not even smile
+with his eyes, he barely nodded; he asked--very carelessly and
+drily--whether my _granny_ were living--and that was all. 'I'm not
+over-delighted at a visit from a nobleman,' he seemed to say; 'I don't
+feel flattered by it.' The republican was a republican still.
+
+Musa came back; a decrepit little old woman followed her, bringing in a
+tarnished samovar. Punin began fussing about, and pressing me to take
+things; Baburin sat down to the table, leaned his head on his hands, and
+looked with weary eyes about him. At tea, however, he began to talk. He
+was dissatisfied with his position. 'A screw--not a man,' so he spoke of
+his employer; 'people in a subordinate position are so much dirt to him,
+of no consequence whatever; and yet it's not so long since he was under
+the yoke himself. Nothing but cruelty and covetousness. It's a bondage
+worse than the government's! And all the trade here rests on swindling
+and flourishes on nothing else!'
+
+Hearing such dispiriting utterances, Punin sighed expressively,
+assented, shook his head up and down, and from side to side; Musa
+maintained a stubborn silence.... She was obviously fretted by the
+doubt, what I was, whether I was a discreet person or a gossip. And if I
+were discreet, whether it was not with some afterthought in my mind. Her
+dark, swift, restless eyes fairly flashed to and fro under their
+half-drooping lids. Only once she glanced at me, but so inquisitively,
+so searchingly, almost viciously ... I positively started. Baburin
+scarcely talked to her at all; but whenever he did address her, there
+was a note of austere, hardly fatherly, tenderness in his voice.
+
+Punin, on the contrary, was continually joking with Musa; she responded
+unwillingly, however. He called her little snow-maiden, little
+snowflake.
+
+'Why do you give Musa Pavlovna such names?' I asked.
+
+Punin laughed. 'Because she's such a chilly little thing.'
+
+'Sensible,' put in Baburin: 'as befits a young girl.'
+
+'We may call her the mistress of the house,' cried Punin. 'Hey? Paramon
+Semyonitch?' Baburin frowned; Musa turned away ... I did not understand
+the hint at the time.
+
+So passed two hours ... in no very lively fashion, though Punin did his
+best to 'entertain the honourable company.' For instance, he squatted
+down in front of the cage of one of the canaries, opened the door, and
+commanded: 'On the cupola! Begin the concert!' The canary fluttered out
+at once, perched on the _cupola_, that is to say, on Punin's bald pate,
+and turning from side to side, and shaking its little wings, carolled
+with all its might. During the whole time the concert lasted, Punin kept
+perfectly still, only conducting with his finger, and half closing his
+eyes. I could not help roaring with laughter ... but neither Baburin nor
+Musa laughed.
+
+Just as I was leaving, Baburin surprised me by an unexpected question.
+He wished to ask me, as a man studying at the university, what sort of
+person Zeno was, and what were my ideas about him.
+
+'What Zeno?' I asked, somewhat puzzled.
+
+'Zeno, the sage of antiquity. Surely he cannot be unknown to you?'
+
+I vaguely recalled the name of Zeno, as the founder of the school of
+Stoics; but I knew absolutely nothing more about him.
+
+'Yes, he was a philosopher,' I pronounced, at last.
+
+'Zeno,' Baburin resumed in deliberate tones, 'was that wise man, who
+declared that suffering was not an evil, since fortitude overcomes all
+things, and that the good in this world is one: justice; and virtue
+itself is nothing else than justice.'
+
+Punin turned a reverent ear.
+
+'A man living here who has picked up a lot of old books, told me that
+saying,' continued Baburin; 'it pleased me much. But I see you are not
+interested in such subjects.'
+
+Baburin was right. In such subjects I certainly was not interested.
+Since I had entered the university, I had become as much of a republican
+as Baburin himself. Of Mirabeau, of Robespierre, I would have talked
+with zest. Robespierre, indeed ... why, I had hanging over my
+writing-table the lithographed portraits of Fouquier-Tinville and
+Chalier! But Zeno! Why drag in Zeno?
+
+As he said good-bye to me, Punin insisted very warmly on my visiting
+them next day, Sunday; Baburin did not invite me at all, and even
+remarked between his teeth, that talking to plain people of nondescript
+position could not give me any great pleasure, and would most likely be
+disagreeable to my _granny_. At that word I interrupted him, however,
+and gave him to understand that my grandmother had no longer any
+authority over me.
+
+'Why, you've not come into possession of the property, have you?'
+queried Baburin.
+
+'No, I haven't,' I answered.
+
+'Well, then, it follows ...' Baburin did not finish his sentence; but I
+mentally finished it for him: 'it follows that I'm a boy.'
+
+'Good-bye,' I said aloud, and I retired.
+
+I was just going out of the courtyard into the street ... Musa suddenly
+ran out of the house, and slipping a piece of crumpled paper into my
+hand, disappeared at once. At the first lamp-post I unfolded the paper.
+It turned out to be a note. With difficulty I deciphered the pale
+pencil-marks. 'For God's sake,' Musa had written, 'come to-morrow after
+matins to the Alexandrovsky garden near the Kutafia tower I shall wait
+for you don't refuse me don't make me miserable I simply must see you.'
+There were no mistakes in spelling in this note, but neither was there
+any punctuation. I returned home in perplexity.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When, a quarter of an hour before the appointed time, next day, I began
+to get near the Kutafia tower (it was early in April, the buds were
+swelling, the grass was growing greener, and the sparrows were noisily
+chirrupping and quarrelling in the bare lilac bushes), considerably to
+my surprise, I caught sight of Musa a little to one side, not far from
+the fence. She was there before me. I was going towards her; but she
+herself came to meet me.
+
+'Let's go to the Kreml wall,' she whispered in a hurried voice, running
+her downcast eyes over the ground; 'there are people here.'
+
+We went along the path up the hill.
+
+'Musa Pavlovna,' I was beginning.... But she cut me short at once.
+
+'Please,' she began, speaking in the same jerky and subdued voice,
+'don't criticise me, don't think any harm of me. I wrote a letter to
+you, I made an appointment to meet you, because ... I was afraid.... It
+seemed to me yesterday,--you seemed to be laughing all the time.
+Listen,' she added, with sudden energy, and she stopped short and turned
+towards me: 'listen; if you tell with whom ... if you mention at whose
+room you met me, I'll throw myself in the water, I'll drown myself, I'll
+make an end of myself!'
+
+At this point, for the first time, she glanced at me with the
+inquisitive, piercing look I had seen before.
+
+'Why, she, perhaps, really ... would do it,' was my thought.
+
+'Really, Musa Pavlovna,' I protested, hurriedly: 'how can you have such
+a bad opinion of me? Do you suppose I am capable of betraying my friend
+and injuring you? Besides, come to that, there's nothing in your
+relations, as far as I'm aware, deserving of censure.... For goodness'
+sake, be calm.'
+
+Musa heard me out, without stirring from the spot, or looking at me
+again.
+
+'There's something else I ought to tell you,' she began, moving forward
+again along the path, 'or else you may think I'm quite mad! I ought to
+tell you, that old man wants to marry me!'
+
+'What old man? The bald one? Punin?'
+
+'No--not he! The other ... Paramon Semyonitch.'
+
+'Baburin?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Is it possible? Has he made you an offer?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'But you didn't consent, of course?'
+
+'Yes, I did consent ... because I didn't understand what I was about
+then. Now it's a different matter.'
+
+I flung up my hands. 'Baburin--and you! Why, he must be fifty!'
+
+'He says forty-three. But that makes no difference. If he were
+five--and--twenty I wouldn't marry him. Much happiness I should find in
+it! A whole week will go by without his smiling once! Paramon Semyonitch
+is my benefactor, I am deeply indebted to him; he took care of me,
+educated me; I should have been utterly lost but for him; I'm bound to
+look on him as a father.... But be his wife! I'd rather die! I'd rather
+be in my coffin!'
+
+'Why do you keep talking about death, Musa Pavlovna?'
+
+Musa stopped again.
+
+'Why, is life so sweet, then? Even your friend Vladimir Nikolaitch, I
+may say, I've come to love from being wretched and dull: and then
+Paramon Semyonitch with his offers of marriage.... Punin, though he
+bores me with his verses, he doesn't scare me, anyway; he doesn't make
+me read Karamzin in the evenings, when my head's ready to drop off my
+shoulders for weariness! And what are these old men to me? They call me
+cold, too. With them, is it likely I should be warm? If they try to make
+me--I shall go. Paramon Semyonitch himself's always saying: Freedom!
+freedom! All right, I want freedom too. Or else it comes to this!
+Freedom for every one else, and keeping me in a cage! I'll tell him so
+myself. But if you betray me, or drop a hint--remember; they'll never
+set eyes on me again!'
+
+Musa stood in the middle of the path.
+
+'They'll never set eyes on me again!' she repeated sharply. This time,
+too, she did not raise her eyes to me; she seemed to be aware that she
+would infallibly betray herself, would show what was in her heart, if
+any one looked her straight in the face.... And that was just why she
+did not lift her eyes, except when she was angry or annoyed, and then
+she stared straight at the person she was speaking to.... But her small
+pretty face was aglow with indomitable resolution.
+
+'Why, Tarhov was right,' flashed through my head; 'this girl is a
+new type.'
+
+'You've no need to be afraid of me,' I declared, at last.
+
+'Truly? Even, if ... You said something about our relations.... But even
+if there were ...' she broke off.
+
+'Even in that case, you would have no need to be afraid, Musa Pavlovna.
+I am not your judge. Your secret is buried here.' I pointed to my bosom.
+'Believe me, I know how to appreciate ...'
+
+'Have you got my letter?' Musa asked suddenly.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Where?'
+
+'In my pocket.'
+
+'Give it here ... quick, quick!'
+
+I got out the scrap of paper. Musa snatched it in her rough little hand,
+stood still a moment facing me, as though she were going to thank me;
+but suddenly started, looked round, and without even a word at parting,
+ran quickly down the hill.
+
+I looked in the direction she had taken. At no great distance from the
+tower I discerned, wrapped in an 'Almaviva' ('Almavivas' were then in
+the height of fashion), a figure which I recognised at once as Tarhov.
+
+'Aha, my boy,' thought I, 'you must have had notice, then, since you're
+on the look-out.'
+
+And whistling to myself, I started homewards.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next morning I had only just drunk my morning tea, when Punin made his
+appearance. He came into my room with rather an embarrassed face, and
+began making bows, looking about him, and apologising for his intrusion,
+as he called it. I made haste to reassure him. I, sinful man, imagined
+that Punin had come with the intention of borrowing money. But he
+confined himself to asking for a glass of tea with rum in it, as,
+luckily, the samovar had not been cleared away. 'It's with some
+trepidation and sinking of heart that I have come to see you,' he said,
+as he nibbled a lump of sugar. 'You I do not fear; but I stand in awe of
+your honoured grandmother! I am abashed too by my attire, as I have
+already communicated to you.' Punin passed his finger along the frayed
+edge of his ancient coat. 'At home it's no matter, and in the street,
+too, it's no harm; but when one finds one's self in gilded palaces,
+one's poverty stares one in the face, and one feels confused!' I
+occupied two small rooms on the ground floor, and certainly it would
+never have entered any one's head to call them palaces, still less
+gilded; but Punin apparently was referring to the whole of my
+grandmother's house, though that too was by no means conspicuously
+sumptuous. He reproached me for not having been to see them the previous
+day; 'Paramon Semyonitch,' said he, 'expected you, though he did declare
+that you would be sure not to come. And Musotchka, too, expected you.'
+
+'What? Musa Pavlovna too?' I queried.
+
+'She too. She's a charming girl we have got with us, isn't she? What
+do you say?'
+
+'Very charming,' I assented. Punin rubbed his bare head with
+extraordinary rapidity.
+
+'She's a beauty, sir, a pearl or even a diamond--it's the truth I am
+telling you.' He bent down quite to my ear. 'Noble blood, too,' he
+whispered to me, 'only--you understand--left-handed; the forbidden fruit
+was eaten. Well, the parents died, the relations would do nothing for
+her, and flung her to the hazards of destiny, that's to say, despair,
+dying of hunger! But at that point Paramon Semyonitch steps forward,
+known as a deliverer from of old! He took her, clothed her and cared for
+her, brought up the poor nestling; and she has blossomed into our
+darling! I tell you, a man of the rarest qualities!'
+
+Punin subsided against the back of the armchair, lifted his hands, and
+again bending forward, began whispering again, but still more
+mysteriously: 'You see Paramon Semyonitch himself too.... Didn't you
+know? he too is of exalted extraction--and on the left side, too. They
+do say--his father was a powerful Georgian prince, of the line of King
+David.... What do you make of that? A few words--but how much is said?
+The blood of King David! What do you think of that? And according to
+other accounts, the founder of the family of Paramon Semyonitch was an
+Indian Shah, Babur. Blue blood! That's fine too, isn't it? Eh?'
+
+'Well?' I queried, 'and was he too, Baburin, flung to the hazards
+of destiny?'
+
+Punin rubbed his pate again. 'To be sure he was! And with even greater
+cruelty than our little lady! From his earliest childhood nothing but
+struggling! And, in fact, I will confess that, inspired by Ruban, I
+composed in allusion to this fact a stanza for the portrait of Paramon
+Semyonitch. Wait a bit ... how was it? Yes!
+
+  'E'en from the cradle fate's remorseless blows
+  Baburin drove towards the abyss of woes!
+  But as in darkness gleams the light, so now
+  The conqueror's laurel wreathes his noble brow!'
+
+Punin delivered these lines in a rhythmic, sing-song voice, with full
+rounded vowels, as verses should be read.
+
+'So that's how it is he's a republican!' I exclaimed.
+
+'No, that's not why,' Punin answered simply. 'He forgave his father long
+ago; but he cannot endure injustice of any sort; it's the sorrows of
+others that trouble him!'
+
+I wanted to turn the conversation on what I had learned from Musa the
+day before, that is to say, on Baburin's matrimonial project,--but I did
+not know how to proceed. Punin himself got me out of the difficulty.
+
+'Did you notice nothing?' he asked me suddenly, slily screwing up his
+eyes, 'while you were with us? nothing special?'
+
+'Why, was there anything to notice?' I asked in my turn.
+
+Punin looked over his shoulder, as though anxious to satisfy himself
+that no one was listening. 'Our little beauty, Musotchka, is shortly to
+be a married lady!'
+
+'How so?'
+
+'Madame Baburin,' Punin announced with an effort, and slapping his
+knees several times with his open hands, he nodded his head, like a
+china mandarin.
+
+'Impossible!' I cried, with assumed astonishment. Punin's head
+slowly came to rest, and his hands dropped down. 'Why impossible,
+allow me to ask?'
+
+'Because Paramon Semyonitch is more fit to be your young lady's father;
+because such a difference in age excludes all likelihood of love--on the
+girl's side.'
+
+'Excludes?' Punin repeated excitedly. 'But what about gratitude? and
+pure affection? and tenderness of feeling? Excludes! You must consider
+this: admitting that Musa's a splendid girl; but then to gain Paramon
+Semyonitch's affection, to be his comfort, his prop--his spouse, in
+short! is that not the loftiest possible happiness even for such a girl?
+And she realises it! You should look, turn an attentive eye! In Paramon
+Semyonitch's presence Musotchka is all veneration, all tremor and
+enthusiasm!'
+
+'That's just what's wrong, Nikander Vavilitch, that she is, as you say,
+all tremor. If you love any one you don't feel tremors in their
+presence.'
+
+'But with that I can't agree! Here am I, for instance; no one, I
+suppose, could love Paramon Semyonitch more than I, but I ... tremble
+before him.'
+
+'Oh, you--that's a different matter.'
+
+'How is it a different matter? how? how?' interrupted Punin. I simply
+did not know him; he got hot, and serious, almost angry, and quite
+dropped his rhythmic sing-song in speaking. 'No,' he declared; 'I notice
+that you have not a good eye for character! No; you can't read people's
+hearts!' I gave up contradicting him ... and to give another turn to the
+conversation, proposed, for the sake of old times, that we should read
+something together.
+
+Punin was silent for a while.
+
+'One of the old poets? The real ones?' he asked at last.
+
+'No; a new one.'
+
+'A new one?' Punin repeated mistrustfully.
+
+'Pushkin,' I answered. I suddenly thought of the _Gypsies_ which Tarhov
+had mentioned not long before. There, by the way, is the ballad about
+the old husband. Punin grumbled a little, but I sat him down on the
+sofa, so that he could listen more comfortably, and began to read
+Pushkin's poem. The passage came at last, 'old husband, cruel husband';
+Punin heard the ballad through to the end, and all at once he got up
+impulsively.
+
+'I can't,' he pronounced, with an intense emotion, which impressed even
+me;--'excuse me; I cannot hear more of that author. He is an immoral
+slanderer; he is a liar ... he upsets me. I cannot! Permit me to cut
+short my visit to-day.'
+
+I began trying to persuade Punin to remain; but he insisted on having
+his own way with a sort of stupid, scared obstinacy: he repeated several
+times that he felt upset, and wished to get a breath of fresh air--and
+all the while his lips were faintly quivering and his eyes avoided mine,
+as though I had wounded him. So he went away. A little while after, I
+too went out of the house and set off to see Tarhov.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Without inquiring of any one, with a student's usual lack of ceremony,
+I walked straight into his lodgings. In the first room there was no
+one. I called Tarhov by name, and receiving no answer, was just going
+to retreat; but the door of the adjoining room opened, and my friend
+appeared. He looked at me rather queerly, and shook hands without
+speaking. I had come to him to repeat all I had heard from Punin; and
+though I felt at once that I had called on Tarhov at the wrong moment,
+still, after talking a little about extraneous matters, I ended by
+informing him of Baburin's intentions in regard to Musa. This piece of
+news did not, apparently, surprise him much; he quietly sat down at the
+table, and fixing his eyes intently upon me, and keeping silent as
+before, gave to his features an expression ... an expression, as though
+he would say: 'Well, what more have you to tell? Come, out with your
+ideas!' I looked more attentively into his face.... It struck me as
+eager, a little ironical, a little arrogant even. But that did not
+hinder me from bringing out my ideas. On the contrary. 'You're showing
+off,' was my thought; 'so I am not going to spare you!' And there and
+then I proceeded straightway to enlarge upon the mischief of yielding
+to impulsive feelings, upon the duty of every man to respect the
+freedom and personal life of another man--in short, I proceeded to
+enunciate useful and appropriate counsel. Holding forth in this manner,
+I walked up and down the room, to be more at ease. Tarhov did not
+interrupt me, and did not stir from his seat; he only played with his
+fingers on his chin.
+
+'I know,' said I ... (Exactly what was my motive in speaking so, I have
+no clear idea myself--envy, most likely; it was not devotion to
+morality, anyway!) 'I know,' said I, 'that it's no easy matter, no
+joking matter; I am sure you love Musa, and that Musa loves you--that it
+is not a passing fancy on your part.... But, see, let us suppose! (Here
+I folded my arms on my breast.) ... Let us suppose you gratify your
+passion--what is to follow? You won't marry her, you know. And at the
+same time you are wrecking the happiness of an excellent, honest man,
+her benefactor--and--who knows? (here my face expressed at the same time
+penetration and sorrow)--possibly her own happiness too....'
+
+And so on, and so on!
+
+For about a quarter of an hour my discourse flowed on. Tarhov was still
+silent. I began to be disconcerted by this silence. I glanced at him
+from time to time, not so much to satisfy myself as to the impression my
+words were making on him, as to find out why he neither objected nor
+agreed, but sat like a deaf mute. At last I fancied that there was ...
+yes, there certainly was a change in his face. It began to show signs of
+uneasiness, agitation, painful agitation.... Yet, strange to say, the
+eager, bright, laughing something, which had struck me at my first
+glance at Tarhov, still did not leave that agitated, that troubled face!
+I could not make up my mind whether or no to congratulate myself on the
+success of my sermon, when Tarhov suddenly got up, and pressing both my
+hands, said, speaking very quickly, 'Thank you, thank you. You're right,
+of course, ... though, on the other side, one might observe ... What is
+your Baburin you make so much of, after all? An honest fool--and nothing
+more! You call him a republican--and he's simply a fool! Oo! That's what
+he is! All his republicanism simply means that he can never get on
+anywhere!'
+
+'Ah! so that's your idea! A fool! can never get on!--but let me tell
+you,' I pursued, with sudden heat, 'let me tell you, my dear Vladimir
+Nikolaitch, that in these days to get on nowhere is a sign of a fine, a
+noble nature! None but worthless people--bad people--get on anywhere and
+accommodate themselves to everything. You say Baburin is an honest fool!
+Why, is it better, then, to your mind, to be dishonest and clever?'
+
+'You distort my words!' cried Tarhov. 'I only wanted to explain how I
+understand that person. Do you think he's such a rare specimen? Not a
+bit of it! I've met other people like him in my time. A man sits with an
+air of importance, silent, obstinate, angular.... O-ho-ho! say you. It
+shows that there's a great deal in him! But there's nothing in him, not
+one idea in his head--nothing but a sense of his own dignity.'
+
+'Even if there is nothing else, that's an honourable thing,' I broke
+in. 'But let me ask where you have managed to study him like this? You
+don't know him, do you? Or are you describing him ... from what Musa
+tells you?'
+
+Tarhov shrugged his shoulders. 'Musa and I ... have other things to talk
+of. I tell you what,' he added, his whole body quivering with
+impatience,--'I tell you what: if Baburin has such a noble and honest
+nature, how is it he doesn't see that Musa is not a fit match for him?
+It's one of two things: either he knows that what he's doing to her is
+something of the nature of an outrage, all in the name of gratitude ...
+and if so, what about his honesty?--or he doesn't realise it ... and in
+that case, what can one call him but a fool?'
+
+I was about to reply, but Tarhov again clutched my hands, and again
+began talking in a hurried voice. 'Though ... of course ... I confess
+you are right, a thousand times right.... You are a true friend ... but
+now leave me alone, please.'
+
+I was puzzled. 'Leave you alone?'
+
+'Yes. I must, don't you see, think over all you've just said,
+thoroughly.... I have no doubt you are right ... but now leave me
+alone!'
+
+'You 're in such a state of excitement ...' I was beginning.
+
+'Excitement? I?' Tarhov laughed, but instantly pulled himself up. 'Yes,
+of course I am. How could I help being? You say yourself it's no joking
+matter. Yes; I must think about it ... alone.' He was still squeezing my
+hands. 'Good-bye, my dear fellow, good-bye!'
+
+'Good-bye,' I repeated. 'Good-bye, old boy!' As I was going away I flung
+a last glance at Tarhov. He seemed pleased. At what? At the fact that I,
+like a true friend and comrade, had pointed out the danger of the way
+upon which he had set his foot--or that I was going? Ideas of the most
+diverse kind were floating in my head the whole day till evening--till
+the very instant when I entered the house occupied by Punin and Baburin,
+for I went to see them the same day. I am bound to confess that some of
+Tarhov's phrases had sunk deep into my soul ... and were ringing in my
+ears.... In truth, was it possible Baburin ... was it possible he did
+not see she was not a fit match for him?
+
+But could this possibly be: Baburin, the self-sacrificing Baburin--an
+honest fool!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Punin had said, when he came to see me, that I had been expected there
+the day before. That may have been so, but on this day, it is certain,
+no one expected me.... I found every one at home, and every one was
+surprised at my visit. Baburin and Punin were both unwell: Punin had a
+headache, and he was lying curled up on the sofa, with his head tied up
+in a spotted handkerchief, and strips of cucumber applied to his
+temples. Baburin was suffering from a bilious attack; all yellow,
+almost dusky, with dark rings round his eyes, with scowling brow and
+unshaven chin--he did not look much like a bridegroom! I tried to go
+away.... But they would not let me go, and even made tea. I spent
+anything but a cheerful evening. Musa, it is true, had no ailment, and
+was less shy than usual too, but she was obviously vexed, angry.... At
+last she could not restrain herself, and, as she handed me a cup of
+tea, she whispered hurriedly: 'You can say what you like, you may try
+your utmost, you won't make any difference.... So there!' I looked at
+her in astonishment, and, seizing a favourable moment, asked her, also
+in a whisper, 'What's the meaning of your words?' 'I'll tell you,' she
+answered, and her black eyes, gleaming angrily under her frowning
+brows, were fastened for an instant on my face, and turned away at
+once: 'the meaning is that I heard all you said there to-day, and thank
+you for nothing, and things won't be as you 'd have them, anyway.' 'You
+were there,' broke from me unconsciously.... But at this point
+Baburin's attention was caught, and he glanced in our direction. Musa
+walked away from me.
+
+Ten minutes later she managed to come near me again. She seemed to enjoy
+saying bold and dangerous things to me, and saying them in the presence
+of her protector, under his vigilant eye, only exercising barely enough
+caution not to arouse his suspicions. It is well known that walking on
+the brink, on the very edge, of the precipice is woman's favourite
+pastime. 'Yes, I was there,' whispered Musa, without any change of
+countenance, except that her nostrils were faintly quivering and her
+lips twitching. 'Yes, and if Paramon Semyonitch asks me what I am
+whispering about with you, I'd tell him this minute. What do I care?'
+
+'Be more careful,' I besought her. 'I really believe they are noticing.'
+
+'I tell you, I'm quite ready to tell them everything. And who's
+noticing? One's stretching his neck off the pillow, like a sick duck,
+and hears nothing; and the other's deep in philosophy. Don't you be
+afraid!' Musa's voice rose a little, and her cheeks gradually flushed a
+sort of malignant, dusky red; and this suited her marvellously, and
+never had she been so pretty. As she cleared the table, and set the cups
+and saucers in their places, she moved swiftly about the room; there was
+something challenging about her light, free and easy movement. 'You may
+criticise me as you like,' she seemed to say; 'but I'm going my own way,
+and I'm not afraid of you.'
+
+I cannot disguise the fact that I found Musa bewitching just that
+evening. 'Yes,' I mused; 'she's a little spitfire--she's a new type....
+She's--exquisite. Those hands know how to deal a blow, I dare say....
+What of it! No matter!'
+
+'Paramon Semyonitch,' she cried suddenly, 'isn't a republic an empire in
+which every one does as he chooses?'
+
+'A republic is not an empire,' answered Baburin, raising his head, and
+contracting his brows; 'it is a ... form of society in which everything
+rests on law and justice.'
+
+'Then,' Musa pursued, 'in a republic no one can oppress any one else?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'And every one is free to dispose of himself?'
+
+'Quite free.'
+
+'Ah! that's all I wanted to know.'
+
+'Why do you want to know?'
+
+'Oh, I wanted to--I wanted _you_ to tell me that.'
+
+'Our young lady is anxious to learn,' Punin observed from the sofa.
+
+When I went out into the passage Musa accompanied me, not, of course,
+from politeness, but with the same malicious intent. I asked her, as I
+took leave, 'Can you really love him so much?'
+
+'Whether I love him, or whether I don't, that's _my_ affair,' she
+answered. 'What is to be, will be.'
+
+'Mind what you're about; don't play with fire ... you'll get burnt.'
+
+'Better be burnt than frozen. You ... with your good advice! And how can
+you tell he won't marry me? How do you know I so particularly want to
+get married? If I am ruined ... what business is it of yours?'
+
+She slammed the door after me.
+
+I remember that on the way home I reflected with some pleasure that my
+friend Vladimir Tarhov might find things rather hot for him with his new
+type.... He ought to have to pay something for his happiness!
+
+That he would be happy, I was--regretfully--unable to doubt.
+
+Three days passed by. I was sitting in my room at my writing-table, and
+not so much working as getting myself ready for lunch.... I heard a
+rustle, lifted my head, and I was stupefied. Before me--rigid, terrible,
+white as chalk, stood an apparition ... Punin. His half-closed eyes were
+looking at me, blinking slowly; they expressed a senseless terror, the
+terror of a frightened hare, and his arms hung at his sides like sticks.
+
+'Nikander Vavilitch! what is the matter with you? How did you come here?
+Did no one see you? What has happened? Do speak!'
+
+'She has run away,' Punin articulated in a hoarse, hardly audible voice.
+
+'What do you say?'
+
+'She has run away,' he repeated.
+
+'Who?'
+
+'Musa. She went away in the night, and left a note.'
+
+'A note?'
+
+'Yes. "I thank you," she said, "but I am not coming back again. Don't
+look for me." We ran up and down; we questioned the cook; she knew
+nothing. I can't speak loud; you must excuse me. I've lost my voice.'
+
+'Musa Pavlovna has left you!' I exclaimed. 'Nonsense! Mr. Baburin must
+be in despair. What does he intend to do now?'
+
+'He has no intention of doing anything. I wanted to run to the
+Governor-general: he forbade it. I wanted to give information to the
+police; he forbade that too, and got very angry. He says, "She's free."
+He says, "I don't want to constrain her." He has even gone to work, to
+his office. But he looks more dead than alive. He loved her
+terribly....Oh, oh, we both loved her!'
+
+Here Punin for the first time showed that he was not a wooden image, but
+a live man; he lifted both his fists in the air, and brought them down
+on his pate, which shone like ivory.
+
+'Ungrateful girl!' he groaned; 'who was it gave you food and drink,
+clothed you, and brought you up? who cared for you, would have given all
+his life, all his soul ... And you have forgotten it all? To cast me
+off, truly, were no great matter, but Paramon Semyonitch, Paramon ...'
+
+I begged him to sit down, to rest.
+
+Punin shook his head. 'No, I won't. I have come to you ... I don't know
+what for. I'm like one distraught; to stay at home alone is fearful;
+what am I to do with myself? I stand in the middle of the room, shut my
+eyes, and call, "Musa! Musotchka!" That's the way to go out of one's
+mind. But no, why am I talking nonsense? I know why I have come to you.
+You know, the other day you read me that thrice-accursed poem ... you
+remember, where there is talk of an old husband. What did you do that
+for? Did you know something then ... or guessed something?' Punin
+glanced at me. 'Piotr Petrovitch,' he cried suddenly, and he began
+trembling all over, 'you know, perhaps, where she is. Kind friend, tell
+me whom she has gone to!'
+
+I was disconcerted, and could not help dropping my eyes....
+
+'Perhaps she said something in her letter,' I began....
+
+'She said she was leaving us because she loved some one else! Dear, good
+friend, you know, surely, where she is? Save her, let us go to her; we
+will persuade her. Only think what a man she's bringing to ruin.'
+
+Punin all at once flushed crimson, the blood seemed to rush to his
+head, he plumped heavily down on his knees. 'Save us, friend, let us
+go to her.'
+
+My servant appeared in the doorway, and stood still in amazement.
+
+I had no little trouble to get Punin on to his feet again, to convince
+him that, even if I did suspect something, still it would not do to act
+like that, on the spur of the moment, especially both together--that
+would only spoil all our efforts--that I was ready to do my best, but
+would not answer for anything. Punin did not oppose me, nor did he
+indeed hear me; he only repeated from time to time in his broken voice,
+'Save her, save her and Paramon Semyonitch.' At last he began to cry.
+'Tell me at least one thing,' he asked ... 'is _he_ handsome, young?'
+
+'Yes, he is young,' I answered.
+
+'He is young,' repeated Punin, smearing the tears over his cheeks; 'and
+she is young.... It's from that that all the trouble's sprung!'
+
+This rhyme came by chance; poor Punin was in no mood for versifying. I
+would have given a good deal to hear his rhapsodical eloquence again, or
+even his almost noiseless laugh.... Alas! his eloquence was quenched for
+ever, and I never heard his laugh again.
+
+I promised to let him know, as soon as I should find out anything
+positive.... Tarhov's name I did not, however, mention. Punin suddenly
+collapsed completely. 'Very good, very good, sir, thank you,' he said
+with a pitiful face, using the word 'sir,' which he had never done
+before; 'only mind, sir, do not say anything to Paramon Semyonitch ...
+or he'll be angry. In one word, he has forbidden it. Good-bye, sir.'
+
+As he got up and turned his back to me, Punin struck me as such a poor
+feeble creature, that I positively marvelled; he limped with both legs,
+and doubled up at each step....
+
+'It's a bad look-out. It's the end of him, that's what it means,'
+I thought.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Though I had promised Punin to trace Musa, yet as I set off the same day
+to Tarhov's, I had not the slightest expectation of learning anything,
+as I considered it certain that either I should not find him at home, or
+that he would refuse to see me. My supposition turned out to be a
+mistaken one. I found Tarhov at home; he received me, and I found out
+indeed all I wanted to know; but there was nothing gained by that.
+Directly I crossed the threshold of his door, Tarhov came resolutely,
+rapidly, to meet me, and his eyes sparkling and glowing, his face grown
+handsomer and radiant, he said firmly and briskly: 'Listen, Petya, my
+boy; I guess what you've come for, and what you want to talk about; but
+I give you warning, if you say a single word about her, or about her
+action, or about what, according to you, is the course dictated to me by
+common sense, we're friends no longer, we're not even acquainted, and I
+shall beg you to treat me as a stranger.'
+
+I looked at Tarhov; he was quivering all over inwardly, like a tightly
+drawn harpstring; he was tingling all over, hardly could he hold back
+the tide of brimming youth and passion; violent, ecstatic happiness had
+burst into his soul, and had taken full possession of him--and he of it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'Is that your final decision?' I pronounced mournfully.
+
+'Yes, Petya, my boy, it's final.'
+
+'In that case, there's nothing for me but to say good-bye.'
+
+Tarhov faintly dropped his eyelids.... He was too happy at that moment.
+
+'Good-bye, Petya, old boy,' he said, a little through his nose, with a
+candid smile and a gay flash of all his white teeth.
+
+What was I to do? I left him to his 'happiness.' As I slammed the door
+after me, the other door of the room slammed also--I heard it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was with a heavy heart that I trudged off next day to see my luckless
+acquaintances. I secretly hoped--such is human weakness--that I should
+not find them at home, and again I was mistaken. Both were at home. The
+change that had taken place in them during the last three days must have
+struck any one. Punin looked ghastly white and flabby. His talkativeness
+had completely vanished. He spoke listlessly, feebly, still in the same
+husky voice, and looked somehow lost and bewildered. Baburin, on the
+contrary, seemed shrunk into himself, and blacker than ever; taciturn at
+the best of times, he uttered nothing now but a few abrupt sounds; an
+expression of stony severity seemed to have frozen on his countenance.
+
+I felt it impossible to be silent; but what was there to say? I confined
+myself to whispering to Punin, 'I have discovered nothing, and my advice
+to you is to give up all hope.' Punin glanced at me with his swollen,
+red little eyes--the only red left in his face--muttered something
+inaudible, and hobbled away. Baburin most likely guessed what I had been
+speaking about to Punin, and opening his lips, which were tightly
+compressed, as though glued together, he pronounced, in a deliberate
+voice, 'My dear sir, since your last visit to us, something disagreeable
+has happened to us; our young friend, Musa Pavlovna Vinogradov, finding
+it no longer convenient to live with us, has decided to leave us, and
+has given us a written communication to that effect. Not considering
+that we have any right to hinder her doing so, we have left her to act
+according to her own views of what is best. We trust that she may be
+happy,' he added, with some effort; 'and I humbly beg you not to allude
+to the subject, as any such references are useless, and even painful.'
+
+'So he too, like Tarhov, forbids my speaking of Musa,' was the thought
+that struck me, and I could not help wondering inwardly. He might well
+prize Zeno so highly. I wished to impart to him some facts about that
+sage, but my tongue would not form the words, and it did well.
+
+I soon went about my business. At parting neither Punin nor Baburin
+said, 'Till we meet!' both with one voice pronounced, 'Good-bye.'
+
+Punin even returned me a volume of the _Telegraph_ I had brought him, as
+much as to say, 'he had no need of anything of that kind now.'
+
+A week later I had a curious encounter. An early spring had set in
+abruptly; at midday the heat rose to eighteen degrees Reaumur.
+Everything was turning green, and shooting up out of the spongy, damp
+earth. I hired a horse at the riding-school, and went out for a ride
+into the outskirts of the town, towards the Vorobyov hills. On the road
+I was met by a little cart, drawn by a pair of spirited ponies,
+splashed with mud up to their ears, with plaited tails, and red ribbons
+in their manes and forelocks. Their harness was such as sportsmen
+affect, with copper discs and tassels; they were being driven by a
+smart young driver, in a blue tunic without sleeves, a yellow striped
+silk shirt, and a low felt hat with peacock's feathers round the crown.
+Beside him sat a girl of the artisan or merchant class, in a flowered
+silk jacket, with a big blue handkerchief on her head--and she was
+simply bubbling over with mirth. The driver was laughing too. I drew my
+horse on one side, but did not, however, take particular notice of the
+swiftly passing, merry couple, when, all at once, the young man shouted
+to his ponies.... Why, that was Tarhov's voice! I looked round.... Yes,
+it was he; unmistakably he, dressed up as a peasant, and beside
+him--wasn't it Musa?
+
+But at that instant their ponies quickened their pace, and they were
+out of my sight in a minute. I tried to put my horse into a gallop
+in pursuit of them, but it was an old riding school hack, that
+shambled from side to side as it moved; it went more slowly
+galloping than trotting.
+
+'Enjoy yourselves, my dear friends!' I muttered through my teeth.
+
+I ought to observe that I had not seen Tarhov during the whole week,
+though I had been three times to his rooms. He was never at home.
+Baburin and Punin I had not seen either.... I had not been to see them.
+
+I caught cold on my ride; though it was very warm, there was a piercing
+wind. I was dangerously ill, and when I recovered I went with my
+grandmother into the country 'to feed up,' by the doctor's advice. I did
+not get to Moscow again; in the autumn I was transferred to the
+Petersburg university.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+1849
+
+
+Not seven, but fully twelve years had passed by, and I was in my
+thirty-second year. My grandmother had long been dead; I was living in
+Petersburg, with a post in the Department of Home Affairs. Tarhov I had
+lost sight of; he had gone into the army, and lived almost always in the
+provinces. We had met twice, as old friends, glad to see each other; but
+we had not touched on the past in our talk. At the time of our last
+meeting he was, if I remember right, already a married man.
+
+One sultry summer day I was sauntering along Gorohov Street, cursing
+my official duties for keeping me in Petersburg, and the heat and
+stench and dust of the city. A funeral barred my way. It consisted of
+a solitary car, that is, to be accurate, of a decrepit hearse, on
+which a poor-looking wooden coffin, half-covered with a threadbare
+black cloth, was shaking up and down as it was jolted violently over
+the uneven pavement. An old man with a white head was walking alone
+after the hearse.
+
+I looked at him.... His face seemed familiar.... He too turned his eyes
+upon me.... Merciful heavens! it was Baburin! I took off my hat, went up
+to him, mentioned my name, and walked along beside him.
+
+'Whom are you burying?' I asked.
+
+'Nikander Vavilitch Punin,' he answered.
+
+I felt, I knew beforehand, that he would utter that name, and yet it set
+my heart aching. I felt melancholy, and yet I was glad that chance had
+enabled me to pay my last respects to my old friend....
+
+'May I go with you, Paramon Semyonitch?'
+
+'You may.... I was following him alone; now there'll be two of us.'
+
+Our walk lasted more than an hour. My companion moved forward, without
+lifting his eyes or opening his lips. He had become quite an old man
+since I had seen him last; his deeply furrowed, copper-coloured face
+stood out sharply against his white hair. Signs of a life of toil and
+suffering, of continual struggle, could be seen in Baburin's whole
+figure; want and poverty had worked cruel havoc with him. When
+everything was over, when what was Punin had disappeared for ever in the
+damp ... yes, undoubtedly damp earth of the Smolensky cemetery, Baburin,
+after standing a couple of minutes with bowed, uncovered head before the
+newly risen mound of sandy clay, turned to me his emaciated, as it were
+embittered, face, his dry, sunken eyes, thanked me grimly, and was about
+to move away; but I detained him.
+
+'Where do you live, Paramon Semyonitch? Let me come and see you. I had
+no idea you were living in Petersburg. We could recall old days, and
+talk of our dead friend.'
+
+Baburin did not answer me at once.
+
+'It's two years since I found my way to Petersburg,' he observed at
+last; 'I live at the very end of the town. However, if you really care
+to visit me, come.' He gave me his address. 'Come in the evening; in the
+evening we are always at home ... both of us.'
+
+'Both of you?'
+
+'I am married. My wife is not very well to-day, and that's why she
+did not come too. Though, indeed, it's quite enough for one person to
+go through this empty formality, this ceremony. As if anybody
+believed in it all!'
+
+I was a little surprised at Baburin's last words, but I said nothing,
+called a cab, and proposed to Baburin to take him home; but he refused.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The same day I went in the evening to see him. All the way there I was
+thinking of Punin. I recalled how I had met him the first time, and how
+ecstatic and amusing he was in those days; and afterwards in Moscow how
+subdued he had grown--especially the last time I saw him; and now he had
+made his last reckoning with life;--life is in grim earnest, it seems!
+Baburin was living in the Viborgsky quarter, in a little house which
+reminded me of the Moscow 'nest': the Petersburg abode was almost
+shabbier in appearance. When I went into his room he was sitting on a
+chair in a corner with his hands on his knees; a tallow candle, burning
+low, dimly lighted up his bowed, white head. He heard the sound of my
+footsteps, started up, and welcomed me more warmly than I had expected.
+A few moments later his wife came in; I recognised her at once as
+Musa--and only then understood why Baburin had invited me to come; he
+wanted to show me that he had after all come by his own.
+
+Musa was greatly changed--in face, in voice, and in manners; but her
+eyes were changed most of all. In old times they had darted about like
+live creatures, those malicious, beautiful eyes; they had gleamed
+stealthily, but brilliantly; their glance had pierced, like a
+pin-prick.... Now they looked at one directly, calmly, steadily; their
+black centres had lost their lustre. 'I am broken in, I am tame, I am
+good,' her soft and dull gaze seemed to say. Her continued, submissive
+smile told the same story. And her dress, too, was subdued; brown, with
+little spots on it. She came up to me, asked me whether I knew her. She
+obviously felt no embarrassment, and not because she had lost a sense of
+shame or memory of the past, but simply because all petty
+self-consciousness had left her.
+
+Musa talked a great deal about Punin, talked in an even voice, which too
+had lost its fire. I learned that of late years he had become very
+feeble, had almost sunk into childishness, so much so that he was
+miserable if he had not toys to play with; they persuaded him, it is
+true, that he made them out of waste stuff for sale ... but he really
+played with them himself. His passion for poetry, however, never died
+out, and he kept his memory for nothing but verses; a few days before
+his death he recited a passage from the _Rossiad_; but Pushkin he
+feared, as children fear bogies. His devotion to Baburin had also
+remained undiminished; he worshipped him as much as ever, and even at
+the last, wrapped about by the chill and dark of the end, he had
+faltered with halting tongue, 'benefactor!' I learned also from Musa
+that soon after the Moscow episode, it had been Baburin's fate once more
+to wander all over Russia, continually tossed from one private situation
+to another; that in Petersburg, too, he had been again in a situation,
+in a private business, which situation he had, however, been obliged to
+leave a few days before, owing to some unpleasantness with his employer:
+Baburin had ventured to stand up for the workpeople.... The invariable
+smile, with which Musa accompanied her words, set me musing mournfully;
+it put the finishing touch to the impression made on me by her husband's
+appearance. They had hard work, the two of them, to make a bare
+living--there was no doubt of it. He took very little part in our
+conversation; he seemed more preoccupied than grieved.... Something was
+worrying him.
+
+'Paramon Semyonitch, come here,' said the cook, suddenly appearing in
+the doorway.
+
+'What is it? what's wanted?' he asked in alarm.
+
+'Come here,' the cook repeated insistently and meaningly. Baburin
+buttoned up his coat and went out.
+
+When I was left alone with Musa, she looked at me with a somewhat
+changed glance, and observed in a voice which was also changed, and with
+no smile: 'I don't know, Piotr Petrovitch, what you think of me now, but
+I dare say you remember what I used to be.... I was self-confident,
+light-hearted ... and not good; I wanted to live for my own pleasure.
+But I want to tell you this: when I was abandoned, and was like one
+lost, and was only waiting for God to take me, or to pluck up spirit to
+make an end of myself,--once more, just as in Voronezh, I met with
+Paramon Semyonitch--and he saved me once again.... Not a word that could
+wound me did I hear from him, not a word of reproach; he asked nothing
+of me--I was not worthy of that; but he loved me ... and I became his
+wife. What was I to do? I had failed of dying; and I could not live
+either after my own choice....What was I to do with myself? Even so--it
+was a mercy to be thankful for. That is all.'
+
+She ceased, turned away for an instant ... the same submissive smile
+came back to her lips. 'Whether life's easy for me, you needn't ask,'
+was the meaning I fancied now in that smile.
+
+The conversation passed to ordinary subjects. Musa told me that Punin
+had left a cat that he had been very fond of, and that ever since his
+death she had gone up to the attic and stayed there, mewing
+incessantly, as though she were calling some one ... the neighbours
+were very much scared, and fancied that it was Punin's soul that had
+passed into the cat.
+
+'Paramon Semyonitch is worried about something,' I said at last.
+
+'Oh, you noticed it?'--Musa sighed. 'He cannot help being worried. I
+need hardly tell you that Paramon Semyonitch has remained faithful to
+his principles.... The present condition of affairs can but strengthen
+them.' (Musa expressed herself quite differently now from in the old
+days in Moscow; there was a literary, bookish flavour in her phrases.)
+'I don't know, though, whether I can rely upon you, and how you will
+receive ...'
+
+'Why should you imagine you cannot rely upon me?'
+
+'Well, you are in the government service--you are an official.'
+
+'Well, what of that?'
+
+'You are, consequently, loyal to the government.'
+
+I marvelled inwardly ... at Musa's innocence. 'As to my attitude to the
+government, which is not even aware of my existence, I won't enlarge
+upon that,' I observed; 'but you may set your mind at rest. I will make
+no bad use of your confidence. I sympathise with your husband's
+ideas ... more than you suppose.'
+
+Musa shook her head.
+
+'Yes; that's all so,' she began, not without hesitation; 'but you see
+it's like this. Paramon Semyonitch's ideas will shortly, it may be, find
+expression in action. They can no longer be hidden under a bushel. There
+are comrades whom we cannot now abandon ...'
+
+Musa suddenly ceased speaking, as though she had bitten her tongue. Her
+last words had amazed and a little alarmed me. Most likely my face
+showed what I was feeling--and Musa noticed it.
+
+As I have said already, our interview took place in the year 1849. Many
+people still remember what a disturbed and difficult time that was, and
+by what incidents it was signalised in St. Petersburg. I had been struck
+myself by certain peculiarities in Baburin's behaviour, in his whole
+demeanour. Twice he had referred to governmental action, to personages
+in high authority, with such intense bitterness and hatred, with such
+loathing, that I had been dumbfoundered....
+
+'Well?' he asked me suddenly: 'did you set your peasants free?'
+
+I was obliged to confess I had not.
+
+'Why, I suppose your granny's dead, isn't she?'
+
+I was obliged to admit that she was.
+
+'To be sure, you noble gentlemen,' Baburin muttered between his teeth,
+'... use other men's hands ... to poke up your fire ... that's what
+you like.'
+
+In the most conspicuous place in his room hung the well-known lithograph
+portrait of Belinsky; on the table lay a volume of the old _Polar Star_,
+edited by Bestuzhev.
+
+A long time passed, and Baburin did not come back after the cook had
+called him away. Musa looked several times uneasily towards the door by
+which he had gone out. At last she could bear it no longer; she got up,
+and with an apology she too went out by the same door. A quarter of an
+hour later she came back with her husband; the faces of both, so at
+least I thought, looked troubled. But all of a sudden Baburin's face
+assumed a different, an intensely bitter, almost frenzied expression.
+
+'What will be the end of it?' he began all at once in a jerky, sobbing
+voice, utterly unlike him, while his wild eyes shifted restlessly about
+him. 'One goes on living and living, and hoping that maybe it'll be
+better, that one will breathe more freely; but it's quite the other
+way--everything gets worse and worse! They have _squeezed_ us right up
+to the wall! In my youth I bore all with patience; they ... maybe ...
+beat me ... even ... yes!' he added, turning sharply round on his heels
+and swooping down as it were, upon me: 'I, a man of full age, was
+subjected to corporal punishment ... yes;--of other wrongs I will not
+speak.... But is there really nothing before us but to go back to those
+old times again? The way they are treating the young people now! ...
+Yes, it breaks down all endurance at last.... It breaks it down! Yes!
+Wait a bit!'
+
+I had never seen Baburin in such a condition. Musa turned positively
+white.... Baburin suddenly cleared his throat, and sank down into a
+seat. Not wishing to constrain either him or Musa by my presence, I
+decided to go, and was just saying good-bye to them, when the door
+into the next room suddenly opened, and a head appeared.... It was not
+the cook's head, but the dishevelled and terrified-looking head of a
+young man.
+
+'Something's wrong, Baburin, something's wrong!' he faltered hurriedly,
+then vanished at once on perceiving my unfamiliar figure.
+
+Baburin rushed after the young man. I pressed Musa's hand warmly, and
+withdrew, with presentiments of evil in my heart.
+
+'Come to-morrow,' she whispered anxiously.
+
+'I certainly will come,' I answered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I was still in bed next morning, when my man handed me a letter
+from Musa.
+
+'Dear Piotr Petrovitch!' she wrote: 'Paramon Semyonitch has been this
+night arrested by the police and carried off to the fortress, or I don't
+know where; they did not tell me. They ransacked all our papers, sealed
+up a great many, and took them away with them. It has been the same with
+our books and letters. They say a mass of people have been arrested in
+the town. You can fancy how I feel. It is well Nikander Vavilitch did
+not live to see it! He was taken just in time. Advise me what I am to
+do. For myself I am not afraid--I shall not die of starvation--but the
+thought of Paramon Semyonitch gives me no rest. Come, please, if only
+you are not afraid to visit people in our position.--Yours faithfully,
+
+MUSA BABURIN.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Half an hour later I was with Musa. On seeing me she held out her
+hand, and, though she did not utter a word, a look of gratitude
+flitted over her face. She was wearing the same clothes as on the
+previous day; there was every sign that she had not been to bed or
+slept all night. Her eyes were red, but from sleeplessness, not from
+tears. She had not been crying. She was in no mood for weeping. She
+wanted to act, wanted to struggle with the calamity that had fallen
+upon them: the old, energetic, self-willed Musa had risen up in her
+again. She had no time even to be indignant, though she was choking
+with indignation. How to assist Baburin, to whom to appeal so as to
+soften his lot--she could think of nothing else. She wanted to go
+instantly, ... to petition, ... demand.... But where to go, whom to
+petition, what to demand--this was what she wanted to hear from me,
+this was what she wanted to consult me about.
+
+I began by counselling her ... to have patience. For the first moment
+there was nothing left to be done but to wait, and, as far as might be,
+to make inquiries; and to take any decisive step now when the affair had
+scarcely begun, and hardly yet taken shape, would be simply senseless,
+irrational. To hope for any success was irrational, even if I had been a
+person of much more importance and influence, ... but what could I, a
+petty official, do? As for her, she was absolutely without any powerful
+friends....
+
+It was no easy matter to make all this plain to her ... but at last she
+understood my arguments; she understood, too, that I was not prompted by
+egoistic feeling, when I showed her the uselessness of all efforts. 'But
+tell me, Musa Pavlovna,' I began, when she sank at last into a chair
+(till then she had been standing up, as though on the point of setting
+off at once to the aid of Baburin),'how Paramon Semyonitch, at his age,
+comes to be mixed up in such an affair? I feel sure that there are none
+but young people implicated in it, like the one who came in yesterday to
+warn you....'
+
+'Those young people are our friends!' cried Musa, and her eyes flashed
+and darted as of old. Something strong, irrepressible, seemed, as it
+were, to rise up from the bottom of her soul, ... and I suddenly recalled
+the expression 'a new type,' which Tarhov had once used of her. 'Years
+are of no consequence when it is a matter of political principles!' Musa
+laid a special stress on these last two words. One might fancy that in
+all her sorrow it was not unpleasing to her to show herself before me in
+this new, unlooked-for character--in the character of a cultivated and
+mature woman, fit wife of a republican! ... 'Some old men are younger
+than some young ones,' she pursued, 'more capable of sacrifice.... But
+that's not the point.'
+
+'I think, Musa Pavlovna,' I observed, 'that you are exaggerating a
+little. Knowing the character of Paramon Semyonitch, I should have felt
+sure beforehand that he would sympathise with every ... sincere
+impulse; but, on the other hand, I have always regarded him as a man of
+sense.... Surely he cannot fail to realise all the impracticability,
+all the absurdity of conspiracies in Russia? In his position, in his
+calling ...'
+
+'Oh, of course,' Musa interrupted, with bitterness in her voice, 'he is
+a working man; and in Russia it is only permissible for noblemen to take
+part in conspiracies, ... as, for instance, in that of the fourteenth of
+December, ... that's what you meant to say.'
+
+'In that case, what do you complain of now?' almost broke from my
+lips, ... but I restrained myself. 'Do you consider that the result of
+the fourteenth of December was such as to encourage other such
+attempts?' I said aloud.
+
+Musa frowned. 'It is no good talking to you about it,' was what I read
+in her downcast face.
+
+'Is Paramon Semyonitch very seriously compromised?' I ventured to ask
+her. Musa made no reply.... A hungry, savage mewing was heard from
+the attic.
+
+Musa started. 'Ah, it is a good thing Nikander Vavilitch did not see all
+this!' she moaned almost despairingly. 'He did not see how violently in
+the night they seized his benefactor, our benefactor--maybe, the best
+and truest man in the whole world,--he did not see how they treated that
+noble man at his age, how rudely they addressed him, ... how they
+threatened him, and the threats they used to him!--only because he was a
+working man! That young officer, too, was no doubt just such an
+unprincipled, heartless wretch as I have known in my life....'
+
+Musa's voice broke. She was quivering all over like a leaf.
+
+Her long-suppressed indignation broke out at last; old memories stirred
+up, brought to the surface by the general tumult of her soul, showed
+themselves alive within her.... But the conviction I carried off at that
+moment was that the 'new type' was still the same, still the same
+passionate, impulsive nature.... Only the impulses by which Musa was
+carried away were not the same as in the days of her youth. What on my
+first visit I had taken for resignation, for meekness, and what really
+was so--the subdued, lustreless glance, the cold voice, the quietness
+and simplicity--all that had significance only in relation to the past,
+to what would never return....
+
+Now it was the present asserted itself.
+
+I tried to soothe Musa, tried to put our conversation on a more
+practical level. Some steps must be taken that could not be postponed;
+we must find out exactly where Baburin was; and then secure both for him
+and for Musa the means of subsistence. All this presented no
+inconsiderable difficulty; what was needed was not to find money, but
+work, which is, as we all know, a far more complicated problem....
+
+I left Musa with a perfect swarm of reflections in my head.
+
+I soon learned that Baburin was in the fortress.
+
+The proceedings began, ... dragged on. I saw Musa several times every
+week. She had several interviews with her husband. But just at the
+moment of the decision of the whole melancholy affair, I was not in
+Petersburg. Unforeseen business had obliged me to set off to the
+south of Russia. During my absence I heard that Baburin had been
+acquitted at the trial; it appeared that all that could be proved
+against him was, that young people regarding him as a person unlikely
+to awaken suspicion, had sometimes held meetings at his house, and he
+had been present at their meetings; he was, however, by
+administrative order sent into exile in one of the western provinces
+of Siberia. Musa went with him.
+
+'Paramon Semyonitch did not wish it,' she wrote to me; 'as, according to
+his ideas, no one ought to sacrifice self for another person, and not
+for a cause; but I told him there was no question of sacrifice at all.
+When I said to him in Moscow that I would be his wife, I thought to
+myself--for ever, indissolubly! So indissoluble it must be till the end
+of our days....'
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+1861
+
+
+Twelve more years passed by.... Every one in Russia knows, and will ever
+remember, what passed between the years 1849 and 1861. In my personal
+life, too, many changes took place, on which, however, there is no need
+to enlarge. New interests came into it, new cares.... The Baburin couple
+first fell into the background, then passed out of my mind altogether.
+Yet I kept up a correspondence with Musa--at very long intervals,
+however. Sometimes more than a year passed without any tidings of her or
+of her husband. I heard that soon after 1855 he received permission to
+return to Russia; but that he preferred to remain in the little Siberian
+town, where he had been flung by destiny, and where he had apparently
+made himself a home, and found a haven and a sphere of activity....
+
+And, lo and behold! towards the end of March in 1861, I received the
+following letter from Musa:--
+
+'It is so long since I have written to you, most honoured Piotr
+Petrovitch, that I do not even know whether you are still living; and if
+you are living, have you not forgotten our existence? But no matter; I
+cannot resist writing to you to-day. Everything till now has gone on
+with us in the same old way: Paramon Semyonitch and I have been always
+busy with our schools, which are gradually making good progress; besides
+that, Paramon Semyonitch was taken up with reading and correspondence
+and his usual discussions with the Old-believers, members of the clergy,
+and Polish exiles; his health has been fairly good.... So has mine. But
+yesterday! the manifesto of the 19th of February reached us! We had long
+been on the look-out for it. Rumours had reached us long before of what
+was being done among you in Petersburg, ... but yet I can't describe what
+it was! You know my husband well; he was not in the least changed by his
+misfortune; on the contrary, he has grown even stronger and more
+energetic, and has a will as strong as iron, but at this he could not
+restrain himself! His hands shook as he read it; then he embraced me
+three times, and three times he kissed me, tried to say something--but
+no! he could not! and ended by bursting into tears, which was very
+astounding to see, and suddenly he shouted, "Hurrah! hurrah! God save
+the Tsar!" Yes, Piotr Petrovitch, those were his very words! Then he
+went on: "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart" ... and again: "This is
+the first step, others are bound to follow it"; and, just as he was,
+bareheaded, ran to tell the great news to our friends. There was a
+bitter frost, and even a snowstorm coming on. I tried to prevent him,
+but he would not listen to me. And when he came home, he was all covered
+with snow, his hair, his face, and his beard--he has a beard right down
+to his chest now--and the tears were positively frozen on his cheeks!
+But he was very lively and cheerful, and told me to uncork a bottle of
+home-made champagne, and he drank with our friends that he had brought
+back with him, to the health of the Tsar and of Russia, and all free
+Russians; and taking the glass, and fixing his eyes on the ground, he
+said: "Nikander, Nikander, do you hear? There are no slaves in Russia
+any more! Rejoice in the grave, old comrade!" And much more he said; to
+the effect that his "expectations were fulfilled!" He said, too, that
+now there could be no turning back; that this was in its way a pledge or
+promise.... I don't remember everything, but it is long since I have
+seen him so happy. And so I made up my mind to write to you, so that you
+might know how we have been rejoicing and exulting in the remote
+Siberian wilds, so that you might rejoice with us....'
+
+This letter I received at the end of March. At the beginning of May
+another very brief letter arrived from Musa. She informed me that her
+husband, Paramon Semyonitch Baburin, had taken cold on the very day of
+the arrival of the manifesto, and died on the 12th of April of
+inflammation of the lungs, in the 67th year of his age. She added that
+she intended to remain where his body lay at rest, and to go on with the
+work he had bequeathed her, since such was the last wish of Paramon
+Semyonitch, and that was her only law.
+
+Since then I have heard no more of Musa.
+
+PARIS, 1874.
+
+
+
+
+OLD PORTRAITS
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+About thirty miles from our village there lived, many years ago, a
+distant cousin of my mother's, a retired officer of the Guards, and
+rather wealthy landowner, Alexey Sergeitch Teliegin. He lived on his
+estate and birth-place, Suhodol, did not go out anywhere, and so did not
+visit us; but I used to be sent, twice a year, to pay him my
+respects--at first with my tutor, but later on alone. Alexey Sergeitch
+always gave me a very cordial reception, and I used to stay three or
+four days at a time with him. He was an old man even when I first made
+his acquaintance; I was twelve, I remember, on my first visit, and he
+was then over seventy. He was born in the days of the Empress
+Elisabeth--in the last year of her reign. He lived alone with his wife,
+Malania Pavlovna; she was ten years younger than he. They had two
+daughters; but their daughters had been long married, and rarely visited
+Suhodol; they were not on the best of terms with their parents, and
+Alexey Sergeitch hardly ever mentioned their names.
+
+I see, even now, the old-fashioned house, a typical manor-house of the
+steppes. One story in height, with immense attics, it was built at the
+beginning of this century, of amazingly thick beams of pine,--such beams
+came in plenty in those days from the Zhizdrinsky pine-forests; they
+have passed out of memory now! It was very spacious, and contained a
+great number of rooms, rather low-pitched and dark, it is true; the
+windows in the walls had been made small for the sake of greater warmth.
+In the usual fashion (I ought rather to say, in what was then the usual
+fashion), the offices and house-serfs' huts surrounded the manorial
+house on all sides, and the garden was close to it--a small garden, but
+containing fine fruit-trees, juicy apples, and pipless pears. The flat
+steppe of rich, black earth stretched for ten miles round. No lofty
+object for the eye; not a tree, nor even a belfry; somewhere, maybe,
+jutting up, a windmill, with rents in its sails; truly, well-named
+Suhodol, or Dry-flat! Inside the house the rooms were filled with
+ordinary, simple furniture; somewhat unusual was the milestone-post that
+stood in the window of the drawing-room, with the following
+inscription:--'If you walk sixty-eight times round this drawing-room you
+will have gone a mile; if you walk eighty-seven times from the furthest
+corner of the parlour to the right-hand corner of the billiard-room, you
+will have gone a mile,' and so on. But what most of all impressed a
+guest at the house for the first time was the immense collection of
+pictures hanging on the walls, for the most part works of the so-called
+Italian masters: all old-fashioned landscapes of a sort, or mythological
+and religious subjects. But all these pictures were very dark, and even
+cracked with age;--in one, all that met the eye was some patches of
+flesh-colour; in another, undulating red draperies on an unseen body; or
+an arch which seemed to be suspended in the air; or a dishevelled tree
+with blue foliage; or the bosom of a nymph with an immense breast, like
+the lid of a soup-tureen; a cut water-melon, with black seeds; a turban,
+with a feather in it, above a horse's head; or the gigantic brown leg of
+an apostle, suddenly thrust out, with a muscular calf, and toes turned
+upwards. In the drawing-room in the place of honour hung a portrait of
+the Empress Catherine II., full length; a copy of the famous portrait by
+Lampi--an object of the special reverence, one might say the adoration,
+of the master of the house. From the ceiling hung glass lustres in
+bronze settings, very small and very dusty.
+
+Alexey Sergeitch himself was a stumpy, paunchy little old man, with a
+chubby face of one uniform tint, yet pleasant, with drawn-in lips, and
+very lively little eyes under high eyebrows. He wore his scanty locks
+combed to the back of his head; it was only since 1812 that he had given
+up wearing powder. Alexey Sergeitch invariably wore a grey 'redingote,'
+with three capes falling over his shoulders, a striped waistcoat,
+chamois-leather breeches, and high boots of dark red morocco, with
+heart-shaped scallops and tassels at the tops; he wore a white muslin
+cravat, a jabot, lace cuffs, and two gold English 'turnip watches,' one
+in each pocket of his waistcoat. In his right hand he usually carried an
+enamelled snuff-box full of 'Spanish' snuff, and his left hand leaned on
+a cane with a silver-chased knob, worn smooth by long use. Alexey
+Sergeitch had a little nasal, piping voice, and an invariable
+smile--kindly, but, as it were, condescending, and not without a certain
+self-complacent dignity. His laugh, too, was kindly--a shrill little
+laugh that tinkled like glass beads. Courteous and affable he was to the
+last degree--in the old-fashioned manner of the days of Catherine--and
+he moved his hands with slow, rounded gestures, also in the old style.
+His legs were so weak that he could not walk, but ran with hurried
+little steps from one armchair to another, in which he would suddenly
+sit down, or rather fall softly, like a cushion.
+
+As I have said already, Alexey Sergeitch went out nowhere, and saw very
+little of his neighbours, though he liked society, for he was very fond
+of talking! It is true that he had society in plenty in his own house;
+various Nikanor Nikanoritchs, Sevastiey Sevastietchs, Fedulitchs,
+Miheitchs, all poor gentlemen in shabby cossack coats and camisoles,
+often from the master's wardrobe, lived under his roof, to say nothing
+of the poor gentlewomen in chintz gowns, black kerchiefs thrown over
+their shoulders, and worsted reticules in their tightly clenched
+fingers--all sorts of Avdotia Savishnas, Pelagea Mironovnas, and plain
+Feklushkas and Arinkas, who found a home in the women's quarters. Never
+less than fifteen persons sat down to Alexey Sergeitch's table.... He
+was such a hospitable man! Among all those dependants two were
+particularly conspicuous: a dwarf, nicknamed Janus, or the Double-faced,
+of Danish--or, as some maintained, Jewish--extraction, and the mad
+Prince L. Contrary to what was customary in those days, the dwarf did
+nothing to amuse the master or mistress, and was not a jester--quite the
+opposite; he was always silent, had an ill-tempered and sullen
+appearance, and scowled and gnashed his teeth directly a question was
+addressed to him. Alexey Sergeitch called him a philosopher, and
+positively respected him; at table the dishes were handed to him first,
+after the guests and master and mistress. 'God has afflicted him,'
+Alexey Sergeitch used to say; 'such is His Divine will; but it's not for
+me to afflict him further.' 'How is he a philosopher?' I asked him once.
+(Janus didn't take to me; if I went near him he would fly into a rage,
+and mutter thickly, 'Stranger! keep off!') 'Eh, God bless me! isn't he a
+philosopher?' answered Alexey Sergeitch. 'Look ye, little sir, how
+wisely he holds his tongue!' 'But why is he double-faced?' 'Because,
+little sir, he has one face on the outside--and so you, surface-gazers,
+judge him.... But the other, the real face he hides. And that face I
+know, and no one else--and I love him for it ... because that face is
+good. You, for instance, look and see nothing ... but I see without a
+word: he is blaming me for something; for he's a severe critic! And it's
+always with good reason. That, little sir, you can't understand; but you
+may believe an old man like me!' The real history of the two-faced
+Janus--where he came from, and how he came into Alexey Sergeitch's
+hands--no one knew; but the story of Prince L. was well known to every
+one. He went, a lad of twenty, of a wealthy and distinguished family, to
+Petersburg, to serve in a regiment of the Guards. At the first levee the
+Empress Catherine noticed him, stood still before him, and, pointing at
+him with her fan, she said aloud, addressing one of her courtiers, who
+happened to be near, 'Look, Adam Vassilievitch, what a pretty fellow! a
+perfect doll!' The poor boy's head was completely turned; when he got
+home he ordered his coach out, and, putting on a ribbon of St. Anne,
+proceeded to drive all over the town, as though he had reached the
+pinnacle of fortune. 'Drive over every one,' he shouted to his coachman,
+'who does not move out of the way!' All this was promptly reported to
+the empress: the decree went forth that he should be declared insane,
+and put under the guardianship of two of his brothers; and they, without
+a moment's delay, carried him off to the country, and flung him into a
+stone cell in chains. As they wanted to get the benefit of his property,
+they did not let the poor wretch out, even when he had completely
+recovered his balance, and positively kept him locked up till he really
+did go out of his mind. But their evil doings did not prosper; Prince L.
+outlived his brothers, and, after long years of adversity, he came into
+the charge of Alexey Sergeitch, whose kinsman he was. He was a stout,
+completely bald man, with a long, thin nose and prominent blue eyes. He
+had quite forgotten how to talk--he simply uttered a sort of
+inarticulate grumbling; but he sang old-fashioned Russian ballads
+beautifully, preserving the silvery freshness of his voice to extreme
+old age; and, while he was singing, he pronounced each word clearly and
+distinctly. He had attacks at times of a sort of fury, and then he
+became terrible: he would stand in the corner, with his face to the
+wall, and all perspiring and red--red all down his bald head and down
+his neck--he used to go off into vicious chuckles, and, stamping with
+his feet, order some one--his brothers probably--to be punished. 'Beat
+'em!' he growled hoarsely, coughing and choking with laughter; 'flog
+'em, don't spare 'em! beat, beat, beat the monsters, my oppressors!
+That's it! That's it!' On the day before his death he greatly alarmed
+and astonished Alexey Sergeitch. He came, pale and subdued, into his
+room, and, making him a low obeisance, first thanked him for his care
+and kindness, and then asked him to send for a priest, for death had
+come to him--he had seen death, and he must forgive every one and purify
+his soul. 'How did you see death?' muttered Alexey Sergeitch in
+bewilderment at hearing connected speech from him for the first time.
+'In what shape? with a scythe?' 'No,' answered Prince L.; 'a simple old
+woman in a jacket, but with only one eye in her forehead, and that eye
+without an eyelid.' And the next day Prince L. actually did die, duly
+performing everything, and taking leave of every one in a rational and
+affecting manner. 'That's just how I shall die,' Alexey Sergeitch would
+sometimes observe. And, as a fact, something of the same sort did happen
+with him--but of that later.
+
+But now let us go back to our story. Of the neighbours, as I have stated
+already, Alexey Sergeitch saw little; and they did not care much for
+him, called him a queer fish, stuck up, and a scoffer, and even a
+'martiniste' who recognised no authorities, though they had no clear
+idea of the meaning of this term. To a certain extent the neighbours
+were right: Alexey Sergeitch had lived in his Suhodol for almost seventy
+years on end, and had had hardly anything whatever to do with the
+existing authorities, with the police or the law-courts. 'Police-courts
+are for the robber, and discipline for the soldier,' he used to say;
+'but I, thank God, am neither robber nor soldier!' Rather queer Alexey
+Sergeitch certainly was, but the soul within him was by no means a petty
+one. I will tell you something about him.
+
+To tell the truth, I never knew what were his political opinions, if an
+expression so modern can be used in reference to him; but, in his own
+way, he was an aristocrat--more an aristocrat than a typical Russian
+country gentleman. More than once he expressed his regret that God had
+not given him a son and heir, 'for the honour of our name, to keep up
+the family.' In his own room there hung on the wall the family-tree of
+the Teliegins, with many branches, and a multitude of little circles
+like apples in a golden frame. 'We Teliegins,' he used to say, 'are an
+ancient line, from long, long ago: however many there've been of us
+Teliegins, we have never hung about great men's ante-rooms; we've never
+bent our backs, or stood about in waiting, nor picked up a living in the
+courts, nor run after decorations; we've never gone trailing off to
+Moscow, nor intriguing in Petersburg; we've sat at home, each in his
+hole, his own man on his own land ... home-keeping birds, sir!--I
+myself, though I did serve in the Guards--but not for long, thank you.'
+Alexey Sergeitch preferred the old days. 'There was more freedom in
+those days, more decorum; on my honour, I assure you! but since the year
+eighteen hundred' (why from that year, precisely, he did not explain),
+'militarism, the soldiery, have got the upper hand. Our soldier
+gentlemen stuck some sort of turbans of cocks' feathers on their heads
+then, and turned like cocks themselves; began binding their necks up as
+stiff as could be ... they croak, and roll their eyes--how could they
+help it, indeed? The other day a police corporal came to me; "I've come
+to you," says he, "honourable sir," ... (fancy his thinking to surprise
+me with that! ... I know I'm honourable without his telling me!) "I have
+business with you." And I said to him, "My good sir, you'd better first
+unfasten the hooks on your collar. Or else, God have mercy on us--you'll
+sneeze. Ah, what would happen to you! what would happen to you! You'd
+break off, like a mushroom ... and I should have to answer for it!" And
+they do drink, these military gentlemen--oh, oh, oh! I generally order
+home-made champagne to be given them, because to them, good wine or
+poor, it's all the same; it runs so smoothly, so quickly, down their
+throats--how can they distinguish it? And, another thing, they've
+started sucking at a pap-bottle, smoking a tobacco-pipe. Your military
+gentleman thrusts his pap-bottle under his moustaches, between his lips,
+and puffs the smoke out of his nose, his mouth, and even his ears--and
+fancies himself a hero! There are my sons-in-law--though one of them's a
+senator, and the other some sort of an administrator over there--they
+suck the pap-bottle, and they reckon themselves clever fellows too!'
+
+Alexey Sergeitch could not endure smoking; and moreover, he could not
+endure dogs, especially little dogs. 'If you're a Frenchman, to be sure,
+you may well keep a lapdog: you run and you skip about here and there,
+and it runs after you with its tail up ... but what's the use of it to
+people like us?' He was exceedingly neat and particular. Of the Empress
+Catherine he never spoke but with enthusiasm, and in exalted, rather
+bookish phraseology: 'Half divine she was, not human! Only look, little
+sir, at that smile,' he would add, pointing reverentially to Lampi's
+portrait, 'and you will agree: half divine! I was so fortunate in my
+life as to be deemed worthy to behold that smile close, and never will
+it be effaced from my heart!' And thereupon he would relate anecdotes of
+the life of Catherine, such as I have never happened to read or hear
+elsewhere. Here is one of them. Alexey Sergeitch did not permit the
+slightest allusion to the weaknesses of the great Tsaritsa. 'And,
+besides,' he exclaimed, 'can one judge of her as of other people?'
+
+One day while she was sitting in her peignoir during her morning
+toilette, she commanded her hair to be combed.... And what do you
+think? The lady-in-waiting passed the comb through, and sparks of
+electricity simply showered out! Then she summoned to her presence the
+court physician Rogerson, who happened to be in waiting at the court,
+and said to him: 'I am, I know, censured for certain actions; but do
+you see this electricity? Consequently, as such is my nature and
+constitution, you can judge for yourself, as you are a doctor, that it
+is unjust for them to censure me, and they ought to comprehend me!' The
+following incident remained indelible in Alexey Sergeitch's memory. He
+was standing one day on guard indoors, in the palace--he was only
+sixteen at the time--and behold the empress comes walking past him; he
+salutes ... 'and she,' Alexey Sergeitch would exclaim at this point
+with much feeling, 'smiling at my youth and my zeal, deigned to give me
+her hand to kiss and patted my cheek, and asked me "who I was? where I
+came from? of what family?" and then' ... here the old man's voice
+usually broke ... 'then she bade me greet my mother in her name and
+thank her for having brought up her children so well. And whether I was
+on earth or in heaven, and how and where she deigned to vanish, whether
+she floated away into the heights or went her way into the other
+apartments ... to this day I do not know!'
+
+More than once I tried to question Alexey Sergeitch about those far-away
+times, about the people who made up the empress's circle.... But for the
+most part he edged off the subject. 'What's the use of talking about old
+times?' he used to say ... 'it's only making one's self miserable,
+remembering that then one was a fine young fellow, and now one hasn't a
+tooth left in one's head. And what is there to say? They were good old
+times ... but there, enough of them! And as for those folks--you were
+asking, you troublesome boy, about the lucky ones!--haven't you seen how
+a bubble comes up on the water? As long as it lasts and is whole, what
+colours play upon it! Red, and blue, and yellow--a perfect rainbow or
+diamond you'd say it was! Only it soon bursts, and there's no trace of
+it left. And so it was with those folks.'
+
+'But how about Potiomkin?' I once inquired.
+
+Alexey Sergeitch looked grave. 'Potiomkin, Grigory Alexandrovitch, was a
+statesman, a theologian, a pupil of Catherine's, her cherished creation,
+one must say.... But enough of that, little sir!'
+
+Alexey Sergeitch was a very devout man, and, though it was a great
+effort, he attended church regularly. Superstition was not noticeable in
+him; he laughed at omens, the evil eye, and such 'nonsense,' but he did
+not like a hare to run across his path, and to meet a priest was not
+altogether agreeable to him. For all that, he was very respectful to
+clerical persons, and went up to receive their blessing, and even kissed
+the priest's hand every time, but he was not willing to enter into
+conversation with them. 'Such an extremely strong odour comes from
+them,' he explained: 'and I, poor sinner, am fastidious beyond reason;
+they've such long hair, and all oily, and they comb it out on all
+sides--they think they show me respect by so doing, and they clear their
+throats so loudly when they talk--from shyness may be, or I dare say
+they want to show respect in that way too. And besides, they make one
+think of one's last hour. And, I don't know how it is, but I still want
+to go on living. Only, my little sir, don't you repeat my words; we must
+respect the clergy--it's only fools that don't respect them; and I'm to
+blame to babble nonsense in my old age.'
+
+Alexey Sergeitch, like most of the noblemen of his day, had received a
+very slight education; but he had, to some extent, made good the
+deficiency himself by reading. He read none but Russian books of the end
+of last century; the more modern authors he thought insipid and
+deficient in style.... While he read, he had placed at his side on a
+round, one-legged table, a silver tankard of frothing spiced kvas of a
+special sort, which sent an agreeable fragrance all over the house. He
+used to put on the end of his nose a pair of big, round spectacles, but
+in latter years he did not so much read as gaze dreamily over the rims
+of his spectacles, lifting his eyebrows, chewing his lips, and sighing.
+Once I caught him weeping with a book on his knees, greatly, I own, to
+my surprise.
+
+He had recalled these lines:
+
+  'O pitiful race of man!
+  Peace is unknown to thee!
+  Thou canst not find it save
+  In the dust of the grave....
+  Bitter, bitter is that sleep!
+  Rest, rest in death ... but living weep!'
+
+These lines were the composition of a certain Gormitch-Gormitsky, a
+wandering poet, to whom Alexey Sergeitch had given a home in his house,
+as he struck him as a man of delicate feeling and even of subtlety; he
+wore slippers adorned with ribbons, spoke with a broad accent, and
+frequently sighed, turning his eyes to heaven; in addition to all these
+qualifications, Gormitch-Gormitsky spoke French decently, having been
+educated in a Jesuit college, while Alexey Sergeitch only 'followed
+conversation.' But having once got terribly drunk at the tavern, that
+same subtle Gormitsky showed a turbulence beyond all bounds; he gave a
+fearful thrashing to Alexey Sergeitch's valet, the man cook, two
+laundry-maids who chanced to get in his way, and a carpenter from
+another village, and he broke several panes in the windows, screaming
+furiously all the while: 'There, I'll show them, these Russian loafers,
+rough-hewn billy-goats!'
+
+And the strength the frail-looking creature put forth! It was hard work
+for eight men to master him! For this violent proceeding Alexey
+Sergeitch ordered the poet to be turned out of the house, after being
+put, as a preliminary measure, in the snow--it was winter-time--to
+sober him.
+
+'Yes,' Alexey Sergeitch used to say, 'my day is over; I was a spirited
+steed, but I've run my last race now. Then, I used to keep poets at my
+expense, and I used to buy pictures and books of the Jews, geese of the
+best breeds, and pouter-pigeons of pure blood.... I used to go in for
+everything! Though dogs I never did care for keeping, because it goes
+with drinking, foulness, and buffoonery! I was a young man of spirit,
+not to be outdone. That there should be anything of Teliegin's and not
+first-rate ... why, it was not to be thought of! And I had a splendid
+stud of horses. And my horses came--from what stock do you think, young
+sir? Why, from none other than the celebrated stables of the Tsar, Ivan
+Alexeitch, brother of Peter the Great ... it's the truth I'm telling
+you! All fawn-coloured stallions, sleek--their manes to their knees,
+their tails to their hoofs.... Lions! And all that was--and is buried in
+the past. Vanity of vanities--and every kind of vanity! But still--why
+regret it? Every man has his limits set him. There's no flying above the
+sky, no living in the water, no getting away from the earth.... We'll
+live a bit longer, anyway!'
+
+And the old man would smile again and sniff his Spanish snuff.
+
+The peasants liked him; he was, in their words, a kind master, not
+easily angered. Only they, too, repeated that he was a worn-out steed.
+In former days Alexey Sergeitch used to go into everything himself--he
+used to drive out to the fields, and to the mill, and to the dairy, and
+peep into the granaries and the peasants' huts; every one knew his
+racing droshky, upholstered in crimson plush, and drawn by a tall mare,
+with a broad white star all over her forehead, called 'Beacon,' of the
+same famous breed. Alexey Sergeitch used to drive her himself, the ends
+of the reins crushed up in his fists. But when his seventieth year came,
+the old man let everything go, and handed over the management of the
+estate to the bailiff Antip, of whom he was secretly afraid, and whom he
+called Micromegas (a reminiscence of Voltaire!), or simply, plunderer.
+'Well, plunderer, what have you to say? Have you stacked a great deal in
+the barn?' he would ask with a smile, looking straight into the
+plunderer's eyes. 'All, by your good favour, please your honour,' Antip
+would respond cheerfully. 'Favour's all very well, only you mind what I
+say, Micromegas! don't you dare touch the peasants, my subjects, out of
+my sight! If they come to complain ... I've a cane, you see, not far
+off!' 'Your cane, your honour, Alexey Sergeitch, I always keep well in
+mind,' Antip Micromegas would respond, stroking his beard. 'All right,
+don't forget it.' And the master and the bailiff would laugh in each
+other's faces. With the servants, and with the serfs in general, his
+'subjects' (Alexey Sergeitch liked that word) he was gentle in his
+behaviour. 'Because, think a little, nephew; nothing of their own, but
+the cross on their neck--and that copper--and daren't hanker after other
+people's goods ... how can one expect sense of them?' It is needless to
+state that of the so-called 'serf question' no one even dreamed in those
+days; it could not disturb the peace of mind of Alexey Sergeitch: he was
+quite happy in the possession of his 'subjects'; but he was severe in
+his censure of bad masters, and used to call them the enemies of their
+order. He divided the nobles generally into three classes: the prudent,
+'of whom there are too few'; the prodigal, 'of whom there are quite
+enough'; and the senseless, 'of whom there are shoals and shoals.'
+
+'And if any one of them is harsh and oppressive with his subjects'--he
+would say--'then he sins against God, and is guilty before men!'
+
+Yes, the house-serfs had an easy life of it with the old man; the
+'subjects out of sight' no doubt fared worse, in spite of the cane with
+which he threatened Micromegas. And what a lot there were of them, those
+house-serfs, in his house! And for the most part sinewy, hairy,
+grumbling old fellows, with stooping shoulders, in long-skirted nankeen
+coats, belted round the waist, with a strong, sour smell always clinging
+to them. And on the women's side, one could hear nothing but the patter
+of bare feet, the swish of petticoats. The chief valet was called
+Irinarh, and Alexey Sergeitch always called him in a long-drawn-out
+call: 'I-ri-na-a-arh!' The others he called: 'Boy! Lad! Whoever's there
+of the men!' Bells he could not endure: 'It's not an eating-house, God
+forbid!' And what used to surprise me was that whatever time Alexey
+Sergeitch called his valet, he always promptly made his appearance, as
+though he had sprung out of the earth, and with a scrape of his heels,
+his hands behind his back, would stand before his master, a surly, as it
+were angry, but devoted servant!
+
+Alexey Sergeitch was liberal beyond his means; but he did not like to be
+called 'benefactor.' 'Benefactor to you, indeed, sir! ... I'm doing
+myself a benefit, and not you, sir!' (when he was angry or indignant, he
+always addressed people with greater formality). 'Give to a beggar
+once,' he used to say, 'and give him twice, and three times.... And--if
+he should come a fourth time, give to him still--only then you might say
+too: "It's time, my good man, you found work for something else, not
+only for your mouth."' 'But, uncle,' one asked, sometimes, 'suppose even
+after that the beggar came again, a fifth time?' 'Oh, well, give again
+the fifth time.' He used to have the sick, who came to him for aid,
+treated at his expense, though he had no faith in doctors himself, and
+never sent for them. 'My mother,' he declared, 'used to cure illnesses
+of all sorts with oil and salt--she gave it internally, and rubbed it on
+too--it always answered splendidly. And who was my mother? She was born
+in the days of Peter the Great--only fancy that!'
+
+Alexey Sergeitch was a Russian in everything; he liked none but Russian
+dishes, he was fond of Russian songs, but the harmonica--a
+'manufactured contrivance'--he hated; he liked looking at the
+serf-girls' dances and the peasant-women's jigs; in his youth, I was
+told, he had been an enthusiastic singer and a dashing dancer; he liked
+steaming himself in the bath, and steamed himself so vigorously that
+Irinarh, who, serving him as bathman, used to beat him with a bundle of
+birch-twigs steeped in beer, to rub him with a handful of tow, and then
+with a woollen cloth--the truly devoted Irinarh used to say every time,
+as he crept off his shelf red as a 'new copper image': 'Well, this time
+I, the servant of God, Irinarh Tolobiev, have come out alive. How will
+it be next time?'
+
+And Alexey Sergeitch spoke excellent Russian, a little old-fashioned,
+but choice and pure as spring water, continually interspersing his
+remarks with favourite expressions: ''Pon my honour, please God,
+howsoever that may be, sir, and young sir....'
+
+But enough of him. Let us talk a little about Alexey Sergeitch's wife,
+Malania Pavlovna. Malania Pavlovna was born at Moscow.
+
+She had been famous as the greatest beauty in Moscow--_la Venus de
+Moscou_. I knew her as a thin old woman with delicate but insignificant
+features, with crooked teeth, like a hare's, in a tiny little mouth,
+with a multitude of finely crimped little yellow curls on her forehead,
+and painted eyebrows. She invariably wore a pyramidal cap with pink
+ribbons, a high ruff round her neck, a short white dress, and prunella
+slippers with red heels; and over her dress she wore a jacket of blue
+satin, with a sleeve hanging loose from her right shoulder. This was
+precisely the costume in which she was arrayed on St. Peter's Day in the
+year 1789! On that day she went, being still a girl, with her relations
+to the Hodinskoe field to see the famous boxing-match arranged by Orlov.
+'And Count Alexey Grigorievitch' (oh, how often I used to hear this
+story!) 'noticing me, approached, bowed very low, taking his hat in both
+hands, and said: "Peerless beauty," said he, "why have you hung that
+sleeve from your shoulder? Do you, too, wish to try a tussle with me? ...
+By all means; only I will tell you beforehand you have vanquished me--I
+give in! And I am your captive." And every one was looking at us and
+wondering.' And that very costume she had worn continually ever since.
+'Only I didn't wear a cap, but a hat _a la bergere de Trianon_; and
+though I was powdered, yet my hair shone through it, positively shone
+through it like gold!' Malania Pavlovna was foolish to the point of
+'holy innocence,' as it is called; she chattered quite at random, as
+though she were hardly aware herself of what dropped from her lips--and
+mostly about Orlov. Orlov had become, one might say, the principal
+interest of her life. She usually walked ... or rather swam, into the
+room with a rhythmic movement of the head, like a peacock, stood still
+in the middle, with one foot strangely turned out, and two fingers
+holding the tip of the loose sleeve (I suppose this pose, too, must once
+have charmed Orlov); she would glance about her with haughty
+nonchalance, as befits a beauty--and with a positive sniff, and a murmur
+of 'What next!' as though some importunate gallant were besieging her
+with compliments, she would go out again, tapping her heels and
+shrugging her shoulders. She used, too, to take Spanish snuff out of a
+tiny bonbonniere, picking it up with a tiny golden spoon; and from time
+to time, especially when any one unknown to her was present, she would
+hold up--not to her eyes, she had splendid sight, but to her nose--a
+double eyeglass in the shape of a half-moon, with a coquettish turn of
+her little white hand, one finger held out separate from the rest. How
+often has Malania Pavlovna described to me her wedding in the church of
+the Ascension, in Arbaty--such a fine church!--and how all Moscow was
+there ... 'and the crush there was!--awful! Carriages with teams, golden
+coaches, outriders ... one outrider of Count Zavadovsky got run over!
+and we were married by the archbishop himself--and what a sermon he gave
+us! every one was crying--wherever I looked I saw tears ... and the
+governor-general's horses were tawny, like tigers. And the flowers, the
+flowers that were brought! ... Simply loads of flowers!' And how on that
+day a foreigner, a wealthy, tremendously wealthy person, had shot
+himself from love--and how Orlov too had been there.... And going up to
+Alexey Sergeitch, he had congratulated him and called him a lucky
+man.... 'A lucky man you are, you silly fellow!' said he. And how in
+answer to these words Alexey Sergeitch had made a wonderful bow, and had
+swept the floor from left to right with the plumes of his hat, as if he
+would say: 'Your Excellency, there is a line now between you and my
+spouse, which you will not overstep!' And Orlov, Alexey Grigorievitch
+understood at once, and commended him. 'Oh! that was a man! such a man!'
+And how, 'One day, Alexis and I were at his house at a ball--I was
+married then--and he had the most marvellous diamond buttons! And I
+could not resist it, I admired them. "What marvellous diamonds you have,
+Count!" said I. And he, taking up a knife from the table, at once cut
+off a button and presented it to me and said: "In your eyes, my charmer,
+the diamonds are a hundred times brighter; stand before the
+looking-glass and compare them." And I stood so, and he stood beside me.
+"Well, who's right?" said he, while he simply rolled his eyes, looking
+me up and down. And Alexey Sergeitch was very much put out about it, but
+I said to him: "Alexis," said I, "please don't you be put out; you ought
+to know me better!" And he answered me: "Don't disturb yourself,
+Melanie!" And these very diamonds are now round my medallion of Alexey
+Grigorievitch--you've seen it, I dare say, my dear;--I wear it on
+feast-days on a St. George ribbon, because he was a brave hero, a
+knight of St. George: he burned the Turks.'
+
+For all that, Malania Pavlovna was a very kind-hearted woman; she was
+easily pleased. 'She's not one to snarl, nor to sneer,' the maids used
+to say of her. Malania Pavlovna was passionately fond of sweet
+things--and a special old woman who looked after nothing but the jam,
+and so was called the jam-maid, would bring her, ten times a day, a
+china dish with rose-leaves crystallised in sugar, or barberries in
+honey, or sherbet of bananas. Malania Pavlovna was afraid of
+solitude--dreadful thoughts are apt to come over one, she would say--and was
+almost always surrounded by companions, whom she would urgently implore:
+'Talk, talk! why do you sit like that, simply keeping your seats warm!'
+and they would begin twittering like canaries. She was no less devout
+than Alexey Sergeitch, and was very fond of praying; but as, in her own
+words, she had never learned to repeat prayers well, she kept for the
+purpose a poor deacon's widow who prayed with such relish! Never
+stumbled over a word in her life! And this deacon's widow certainly
+could utter the words of prayer in a sort of unbroken flow, not
+interrupting the stream to breathe out or draw breath in, while Malania
+Pavlovna listened and was much moved. She had another widow in
+attendance on her--it was her duty to tell her stories in the night.
+'But only the old ones,' Malania Pavlovna would beg--'those I know
+already; the new ones are all so far-fetched.' Malania Pavlovna was
+flighty in the extreme, and at times she was fanciful too; some
+ridiculous notion would suddenly come into her head. She did not like
+the dwarf, Janus, for instance; she was always fancying he would
+suddenly get up and shout, 'Don't you know who I am? The prince of the
+Buriats. Mind, you are to obey me!' Or else that he would set fire to
+the house in a fit of spleen. Malania Pavlovna was as liberal as Alexey
+Sergeitch; but she never gave money--she did not like to soil her
+hands--but kerchiefs, bracelets, dresses, ribbons; or she would send
+pies from the table, or a piece of roast meat, or a bottle of wine. She
+liked feasting the peasant-women, too, on holidays; they would dance,
+and she would tap with her heels and throw herself into attitudes.
+
+Alexey Sergeitch was well aware that his wife was a fool; but almost
+from the first year of his marriage he had schooled himself to keep up
+the fiction that she was very witty and fond of saying cutting things.
+Sometimes when her chatter began to get beyond all bounds, he would
+threaten her with his finger, and say as he did so: 'Ah, the tongue, the
+tongue! what it will have to answer for in the other world! It will be
+pierced with a redhot pin!'
+
+Malania Pavlovna was not offended, however, at this; on the contrary,
+she seemed to feel flattered at hearing a reproof of that sort, as
+though she would say, 'Well! is it my fault if I'm naturally witty?'
+
+Malania Pavlovna adored her husband, and had been all her life an
+exemplarily faithful wife; but there had been a romance even in her
+life--a young cousin, an hussar, killed, as she supposed, in a duel on
+her account; but, according to more trustworthy reports, killed by a
+blow on the head from a billiard-cue in a tavern brawl. A water-colour
+portrait of this object of her affections was kept by her in a secret
+drawer. Malania Pavlovna always blushed up to her ears when she
+mentioned Kapiton--such was the name of the young hero--and Alexey
+Sergeitch would designedly scowl, shake his finger at his wife again,
+and say: 'No trusting a horse in the field nor a woman in the house.
+Don't talk to me of Kapiton, he's Cupidon!' Then Malania Pavlovna would
+be all of a flutter and say: 'Alexis, Alexis, it's too bad of you! In
+your young days you flirted, I've no doubt, with all sorts of misses and
+madams--and so now you imagine....' 'Come, that's enough, that's enough,
+my dear Malania,' Alexey Sergeitch interrupted with a smile. 'Your gown
+is white--but whiter still your soul!' 'Yes, Alexis, it is whiter!' 'Ah,
+what a tongue, what a tongue!' Alexis would repeat, patting her hand.
+
+To speak of 'views' in the case of Malania Pavlovna would be even more
+inappropriate than in the case of Alexey Sergeitch; yet I once chanced
+to witness a strange manifestation of my aunt's secret feelings. In the
+course of conversation I once somehow mentioned the famous chief of
+police, Sheshkovsky; Malania Pavlovna turned suddenly livid--positively
+livid, green, in spite of her rouge and paint--and in a thick and
+perfectly unaffected voice (a very rare thing with her--she usually
+minced a little, intoned, and lisped) she said: 'Oh, what a name to
+utter! And towards nightfall, too! Don't utter that name!' I was
+astonished; what kind of significance could his name have for such a
+harmless and inoffensive creature, incapable--not merely of doing--even
+of thinking of anything not permissible? Anything but cheerful
+reflections were aroused in me by this terror, manifesting itself after
+almost half a century.
+
+Alexey Sergeitch died in his eighty-eighth year--in the year 1848, which
+apparently disturbed even him. His death, too, was rather strange. He
+had felt well the same morning, though by that time he never left his
+easy-chair. And all of a sudden he called his wife: 'Malania, my dear,
+come here.' 'What is it, Alexis?' 'It's time for me to die, my dear,
+that's what it is.' 'Mercy on you, Alexey Sergeitch! What for?'
+'Because, first of all, one must know when to take leave; and, besides,
+I was looking the other day at my feet.... Look at my feet ... they
+are not mine ... say what you like ... look at my hands, look at my
+stomach ... that stomach's not mine--so really I'm using up another man's
+life. Send for the priest; and meanwhile, put me to bed--from which I
+shall not get up again.' Malania Pavlovna was terribly upset; however, she
+put the old man to bed and sent for the priest. Alexey Sergeitch confessed,
+took the sacrament, said good-bye to his household, and fell asleep.
+Malania Pavlovna was sitting by his bedside. 'Alexis!' she cried
+suddenly, 'don't frighten me, don't shut your eyes! Are you in pain?'
+The old man looked at his wife: 'No, no pain ... but it's difficult ...
+difficult to breathe.' Then after a brief silence: 'Malania,' he said,
+'so life has slipped by--and do you remember when we were married ...
+what a couple we were?' 'Yes, we were, my handsome, charming Alexis!'
+The old man was silent again. 'Malania, my dear, shall we meet again in
+the next world?' 'I will pray God for it, Alexis,' and the old woman
+burst into tears. 'Come, don't cry, silly; maybe the Lord God will make
+us young again then--and again we shall be a fine pair!' 'He will make
+us young, Alexis!' 'With the Lord all things are possible,' observed
+Alexey Sergeitch. 'He worketh great marvels!--maybe He will make you
+sensible.... There, my love, I was joking; come, let me kiss your hand.'
+'And I yours.' And the two old people kissed each other's hands
+simultaneously.
+
+Alexey Sergeitch began to grow quieter and to sink into forgetfulness.
+Malania Pavlovna watched him tenderly, brushing the tears off her
+eyelashes with her finger-tips. For two hours she continued sitting
+there. 'Is he asleep?' the old woman with the talent for praying
+inquired in a whisper, peeping in behind Irinarh, who, immovable as a
+post, stood in the doorway, gazing intently at his expiring master. 'He
+is asleep,' answered Malania Pavlovna also in a whisper. And suddenly
+Alexey Sergeitch opened his eyes. 'My faithful companion,' he faltered,
+'my honoured wife, I would bow down at your little feet for all your
+love and faithfulness--but how to get up? Let me sign you with the
+cross.' Malania Pavlovna moved closer, bent down.... But the hand he had
+raised fell back powerless on the quilt, and a few moments later Alexey
+Sergeitch was no more.
+
+His daughters arrived only on the day of the funeral with their
+husbands; they had no children either of them. Alexey Sergeitch showed
+them no animosity in his will, though he never even mentioned them on
+his death-bed. 'My heart has grown hard to them,' he once said to me.
+Knowing his kindly nature, I was surprised at his words. It is hard to
+judge between parents and children. 'A great ravine starts from a little
+rift,' Alexey Sergeitch said to me once in this connection: 'a wound a
+yard wide may heal; but once cut off even a finger nail, it will not
+grow again.'
+
+I fancy the daughters were ashamed of their eccentric old parents.
+
+A month later and Malania Pavlovna too passed away. From the very day of
+Alexey Sergeitch's death she had hardly risen from her bed, and had not
+put on her usual attire; but they buried her in the blue jacket, and
+with Orlov's medallion on her shoulder, only without the diamonds. Those
+her daughters divided, on the pretext that the diamonds should be used
+in the setting of some holy pictures; in reality, they used them to
+adorn their own persons.
+
+And so I can see my old friends as though they were alive and before my
+eyes, and pleasant is the memory I preserve of them. And yet on my very
+last visit to them (I was a student by then) an incident occurred which
+jarred upon the impression of patriarchal harmony always produced in me
+by the Teliegin household.
+
+Among the house-serfs there was one Ivan, called 'Suhys' Ivan,' a
+coachman or coach-boy, as they called him on account of his small size,
+in spite of his being no longer young. He was a tiny little man, brisk,
+snub-nosed, curly-headed, with an everlastingly smiling, childish face,
+and little eyes, like a mouse's. He was a great joker, a most comic
+fellow; he was great at all sorts of tricks--he used to fly kites, let
+off fireworks and rockets, to play all sorts of games, gallop standing
+up on the horse's back, fly higher than all the rest in the swing, and
+could even make Chinese shadows. No one could amuse children better; and
+he would gladly spend the whole day looking after them. When he started
+laughing, the whole house would seem to liven up; they would answer
+him--one would say one thing, one another, but he always made them all
+merry.... And even if they abused him, they could not but laugh. Ivan
+danced marvellously, especially the so-called 'fish dance.' When the
+chorus struck up a dance tune, the fellow would come into the middle of
+the ring, and then there would begin such a turning and skipping and
+stamping, and then he would fall flat on the ground, and imitate the
+movement of a fish brought out of the water on to dry land; such turning
+and wriggling, the heels positively clapped up to the head; and then he
+would get up and shriek--the earth seemed simply quivering under him. At
+times Alexey Sergeitch, who was, as I have said already, exceedingly
+fond of watching dancing, could not resist shouting, 'Little Vania,
+here! coach-boy! Dance us the fish, smartly now'; and a minute later he
+would whisper enthusiastically: 'Ah, what a fellow it is!'
+
+Well, on my last visit, this Ivan Suhih came into my room, and, without
+saying a word, fell on his knees. 'Ivan, what's the matter?' 'Save me,
+sir.' 'Why, what is it?' And thereupon Ivan told me his trouble.
+
+He was exchanged, twenty years ago, by 'the Suhy family for a serf of
+the Teliegins';--simply exchanged without any kind of formality or
+written deed: the man given in exchange for him had died, but the Suhys
+had forgotten about Ivan, and he had stayed on in Alexey Sergeitch's
+house as his own serf; only his nickname had served to recall his
+origin. But now his former masters were dead; the estate had passed into
+other hands; and the new owner, who was reported to be a cruel and
+oppressive man, having learned that one of his serfs was detained
+without cause or reason at Alexey Sergeitch's, began to demand him back;
+in case of refusal he threatened legal proceedings, and the threat was
+not an empty one, as he was himself of the rank of privy councillor, and
+had great weight in the province. Ivan had rushed in terror to Alexey
+Sergeitch. The old man was sorry for his dancer, and he offered the
+privy councillor to buy Ivan for a considerable sum. But the privy
+councillor would not hear of it; he was a Little Russian, and obstinate
+as the devil. The poor fellow would have to be given up. 'I have spent
+my life here, and I'm at home here; I have served here, here I have
+eaten my bread, and here I want to die,' Ivan said to me--and there was
+no smile on his face now; on the contrary, it looked turned to stone....
+'And now I am to go to this wretch.... Am I a dog to be flung from one
+kennel to another with a noose round my neck? ... to be told: "There,
+get along with you!" Save me, master; beg your uncle, remember how I
+always amused you.... Or else there'll be harm come of it; it won't end
+without sin.'
+
+'What sort of sin, Ivan?'
+
+'I shall kill that gentleman. I shall simply go and say to him,
+"Master, let me go back; or else, mind, be careful of yourself.... I
+shall kill you."'
+
+If a siskin or a chaffinch could have spoken, and had begun declaring
+that it would peck another bird to death, it would not have reduced me
+to greater amazement than did Ivan at that moment. What! Suhys' Vania,
+that dancing, jesting, comic fellow, the favourite playfellow of
+children, and a child himself, that kindest-hearted of creatures, a
+murderer! What ridiculous nonsense! Not for an instant did I believe
+him; what astonished me to such a degree was that he was capable of
+saying such a thing. Anyway I appealed to Alexey Sergeitch. I did not
+repeat what Ivan had said to me, but began asking him whether something
+couldn't be done. 'My young sir,' the old man answered, 'I should be
+only too happy--but what's to be done? I offered this Little Russian an
+immense compensation--I offered him three hundred roubles, 'pon my
+honour, I tell you! but he--there's no moving him! what's one to do? The
+transaction was not legal, it was done on trust, in the old-fashioned
+way ... and now see what mischief's come of it! This Little Russian
+fellow, you see, will take Ivan by force, do what we will: his arm is
+powerful, the governor eats cabbage-soup at his table; he'll be sending
+along soldiers. And I'm afraid of those soldiers! In old days, to be
+sure, I would have stood up for Ivan, come what might; but now, look at
+me, what a feeble creature I have grown! How can I make a fight for it?'
+It was true; on my last visit I found Alexey Sergeitch greatly aged;
+even the centres of his eyes had that milky colour that babies' eyes
+have, and his lips wore not his old conscious smile, but that unnatural,
+mawkish, unconscious grin, which never, even in sleep, leaves the faces
+of very decrepit old people.
+
+I told Ivan of Alexey Sergeitch's decision. He stood still, was silent
+for a little, shook his head. 'Well,' said he at last, 'what is to be
+there's no escaping. Only my mind's made up. There's nothing left, then,
+but to play the fool to the end. Something for drink, please!' I gave
+him something; he drank himself drunk, and that day danced the 'fish
+dance' so that the serf-girls and peasant-women positively shrieked with
+delight--he surpassed himself in his antics so wonderfully.
+
+Next day I went home, and three months later, in Petersburg, I heard
+that Ivan had kept his word. He had been sent to his new master; his
+master had called him into his room, and explained to him that he would
+be made coachman, that a team of three ponies would be put in his
+charge, and that he would be severely dealt with if he did not look
+after them well, and were not punctual in discharging his duties
+generally. 'I'm not fond of joking.' Ivan heard the master out, first
+bowed down to his feet, and then announced it was as his honour pleased,
+but he could not be his servant.
+
+'Let me off for a yearly quit-money, your honour,' said he, 'or send me
+for a soldier; or else there'll be mischief come of it!'
+
+The master flew into a rage. 'Ah, what a fellow you are! How dare you
+speak to me like that? In the first place, I'm to be called your
+excellency, and not your honour; and, secondly, you're beyond the age,
+and not of a size to be sent for a soldier; and, lastly, what mischief
+do you threaten me with? Do you mean to set the house on fire, eh?'
+
+'No, your excellency, not the house on fire.'
+
+'Murder me, then, eh?'
+
+Ivan was silent. 'I'm not your servant,' he said at last.
+
+'Oh well, I'll show you,' roared the master, 'whether you 're my servant
+or not.' And he had Ivan cruelly punished, but yet had the three ponies
+put into his charge, and made him coachman in the stables.
+
+Ivan apparently submitted; he began driving about as coachman. As he
+drove well, he soon gained favour with the master, especially as Ivan
+was very quiet and steady in his behaviour, and the ponies improved so
+much in his hands; he turned them out as sound and sleek as
+cucumbers--it was quite a sight to see. The master took to driving out
+with him oftener than with the other coachmen. Sometimes he would ask
+him, 'I say, Ivan, do you remember how badly we got on when we met?
+You've got over all that nonsense, eh?' But Ivan never made any response
+to such remarks. So one day the master was driving with Ivan to the town
+in his three-horse sledge with bells and a highback covered with carpet.
+The horses began to walk up the hill, and Ivan got off the box-seat and
+went behind the back of the sledge as though he had dropped something.
+It was a sharp frost; the master sat wrapped up, with a beaver cap
+pulled down on to his ears. Then Ivan took an axe from under his skirt,
+came up to the master from behind, knocked off his cap, and saying, 'I
+warned you, Piotr Petrovitch--you've yourself to blame now!' he struck
+off his head at one blow. Then he stopped the ponies, put the cap on his
+dead master, and, getting on the box-seat again, drove him to the town,
+straight to the courts of justice.
+
+'Here's the Suhinsky general for you, dead; I have killed him. As I told
+him, so I did to him. Put me in fetters.'
+
+They took Ivan, tried him, sentenced him to the knout, and then to hard
+labour. The light-hearted, bird-like dancer was sent to the mines, and
+there passed out of sight for ever....
+
+Yes; one can but repeat, in another sense, Alexey Sergeitch's words:
+'They were good old times ... but enough of them!'
+
+1881.
+
+
+
+
+THE BRIGADIER
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+Reader, do you know those little homesteads of country gentlefolks,
+which were plentiful in our Great Russian Oukraine twenty-five or thirty
+years ago? Now one rarely comes across them, and in another ten years
+the last of them will, I suppose, have disappeared for ever. The running
+pond overgrown with reeds and rushes, the favourite haunt of fussy
+ducks, among whom one may now and then come across a wary 'teal'; beyond
+the pond a garden with avenues of lime-trees, the chief beauty and glory
+of our black-earth plains, with smothered rows of 'Spanish'
+strawberries, with dense thickets of gooseberries, currants, and
+raspberries, in the midst of which, in the languid hour of the stagnant
+noonday heat, one would be sure to catch glimpses of a serf-girl's
+striped kerchief, and to hear the shrill ring of her voice. Close by
+would be a summer-house standing on four legs, a conservatory, a
+neglected kitchen garden, with flocks of sparrows hung on stakes, and a
+cat curled up on the tumble-down well; a little further, leafy
+apple-trees in the high grass, which is green below and grey above,
+straggling cherry-trees, pear-trees, on which there is never any fruit;
+then flower-beds, poppies, peonies, pansies, milkwort, 'maids in green,'
+bushes of Tartar honeysuckle, wild jasmine, lilac and acacia, with the
+continual hum of bees and wasps among their thick, fragrant, sticky
+branches. At last comes the manor-house, a one-storied building on a
+brick foundation, with greenish window-panes in narrow frames, a
+sloping, once painted roof, a little balcony from which the vases of the
+balustrade are always jutting out, a crooked gable, and a husky old dog
+in the recess under the steps at the door. Behind the house a wide yard
+with nettles, wormwood, and burdocks in the corners, outbuildings with
+doors that stick, doves and rooks on the thatched roofs, a little
+storehouse with a rusty weathercock, two or three birch-trees with
+rooks' nests in their bare top branches, and beyond--the road with
+cushions of soft dust in the ruts and a field and the long hurdles of
+the hemp patches, and the grey little huts of the village, and the
+cackle of geese in the far-away rich meadows.... Is all this familiar to
+you, reader? In the house itself everything is a little awry, a little
+rickety--but no matter. It stands firm and keeps warm; the stoves are
+like elephants, the furniture is of all sorts, home-made. Little paths
+of white footmarks run from the doors over the painted floors. In the
+hall siskins and larks in tiny cages; in the corner of the dining-room
+an immense English clock in the form of a tower, with the inscription,
+'Strike--silent'; in the drawing-room portraits of the family, painted
+in oils, with an expression of ill-tempered alarm on the brick-coloured
+faces, and sometimes too an old warped picture of flowers and fruit or a
+mythological subject. Everywhere there is the smell of kvas, of apples,
+of linseed-oil and of leather. Flies buzz and hum about the ceiling and
+the windows. A daring cockroach suddenly shows his countenance from
+behind the looking-glass frame.... No matter, one can live here--and
+live very well too.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Just such a homestead it was my lot to visit thirty years ago ... it was
+in days long past, as you perceive. The little estate in which this
+house stood belonged to a friend of mine at the university; it had only
+recently come to him on the death of a bachelor cousin, and he was not
+living in it himself.... But at no great distance from it there were
+wide tracts of steppe bog, in which at the time of summer migration,
+when they are on the wing, there are great numbers of snipe; my friend
+and I, both enthusiastic sportsmen, agreed therefore to go on St.
+Peter's day, he from Moscow, I from my own village, to his little house.
+My friend lingered in Moscow, and was two days late; I did not care to
+start shooting without him. I was received by an old servant, Narkiz
+Semyonov, who had had notice of my coming. This old servant was not in
+the least like 'Savelitch' or 'Caleb'; my friend used to call him in
+joke 'Marquis.' There was something of conceit, even of affectation,
+about him; he looked down on us young men with a certain dignity, but
+cherished no particularly respectful sentiments for other landowners
+either; of his old master he spoke slightingly, while his own class he
+simply scorned for their ignorance. He could read and write, expressed
+himself correctly and with judgment, and did not drink. He seldom went
+to church, and so was looked upon as a dissenter. In appearance he was
+thin and tall, had a long and good-looking face, a sharp nose, and
+overhanging eyebrows, which he was continually either knitting or
+lifting; he wore a neat, roomy coat, and boots to his knees with
+heart-shaped scallops at the tops.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+On the day of my arrival, Narkiz, having given me lunch and cleared the
+table, stood in the doorway, looked intently at me, and with some play
+of the eyebrows observed:
+
+'What are you going to do now, sir?'
+
+'Well, really, I don't know. If Nikolai Petrovitch had kept his word and
+come, we should have gone shooting together.'
+
+'So you really expected, sir, that he would come at the time he
+promised?'
+
+'Of course I did.'
+
+'H'm.' Narkiz looked at me again and shook his head as it were with
+commiseration. 'If you 'd care to amuse yourself with reading,' he
+continued: 'there are some books left of my old master's; I'll get them
+you, if you like; only you won't read them, I expect.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'They're books of no value; not written for the gentlemen of
+these days.'
+
+'Have you read them?'
+
+'If I hadn't read them, I wouldn't have spoken about them. A dream-book,
+for instance ... that's not much of a book, is it? There are others too,
+of course ... only you won't read them either.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'They are religious books.'
+
+I was silent for a space.... Narkiz was silent too.
+
+'What vexes me most,' I began, 'is staying in the house in such
+weather.'
+
+'Take a walk in the garden; or go into the copse. We've a copse here
+beyond the threshing-floor. Are you fond of fishing?'
+
+'Are there fish here?'
+
+'Yes, in the pond. Loaches, sand-eels, and perches are caught there.
+Now, to be sure, the best time is over; July's here. But anyway, you
+might try.... Shall I get the tackle ready?'
+
+'Yes, do please.'
+
+'I'll send a boy with you ... to put on the worms. Or maybe I 'd better
+come myself?' Narkiz obviously doubted whether I knew how to set about
+things properly by myself.
+
+'Come, please, come along.'
+
+Narkiz, without a word, grinned from ear to ear, then suddenly knitted
+his brows ... and went out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+Half an hour later we set off to catch fish. Narkiz had put on an
+extraordinary sort of cap with ears, and was more dignified than ever.
+He walked in front with a steady, even step; two rods swayed regularly
+up and down on his shoulders; a bare-legged boy followed him carrying a
+can and a pot of worms.
+
+'Here, near the dike, there's a seat, put up on the floating platform on
+purpose,' Narkiz was beginning to explain to me, but he glanced ahead,
+and suddenly exclaimed: 'Aha! but our poor folk are here already ...
+they keep it up, it seems.'
+
+I craned my head to look from behind him, and saw on the floating
+platform, on the very seat of which he had been speaking, two persons
+sitting with their backs to us; they were placidly fishing.
+
+'Who are they?' I asked.
+
+'Neighbours,' Narkiz responded, with displeasure. 'They've nothing to
+eat at home, and so here they come to us.'
+
+'Are they allowed to?'
+
+'The old master allowed them.... Nikolai Petrovitch maybe won't give
+them permission.... The long one is a superannuated deacon--quite a
+silly creature; and as for the other, that's a little stouter--he's a
+brigadier.'
+
+'A brigadier?' I repeated, wondering. This 'brigadier's' attire was
+almost worse than the deacon's.
+
+'I assure you he's a brigadier. And he did have a fine property once.
+But now he has only a corner given him out of charity, and he lives ...
+on what God sends him. But, by the way, what are we to do? They've taken
+the best place.... We shall have to disturb our precious visitors.'
+
+'No, Narkiz, please don't disturb them. We'll sit here a little aside;
+they won't interfere with us. I should like to make acquaintance with
+the brigadier.'
+
+'As you like. Only, as far as acquaintance goes ... you needn't expect
+much satisfaction from it, sir; he's grown very weak in his head, and in
+conversation he's silly as a little child. As well he may be; he's past
+his eightieth year.'
+
+'What's his name?'
+
+'Vassily Fomitch. Guskov's his surname.'
+
+'And the deacon?'
+
+'The deacon? ... his nickname's Cucumber. Every one about here calls him
+so; but what his real name is--God knows! A foolish creature! A regular
+ne'er-do-well.'
+
+'Do they live together?'
+
+'No; but there--the devil has tied them together, it seems.'
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+We approached the platform. The brigadier cast one glance upon us ...
+and promptly fixed his eyes on the float; Cucumber jumped up, pulled
+back his rod, took off his worn-out clerical hat, passed a trembling
+hand over his rough yellow hair, made a sweeping bow, and gave vent to a
+feeble little laugh. His bloated face betrayed him an inveterate
+drunkard; his staring little eyes blinked humbly. He gave his neighbour
+a poke in the ribs, as though to let him know that they must clear
+out.... The brigadier began to move on the seat.
+
+'Sit still, I beg; don't disturb yourselves,' I hastened to say. 'You
+won't interfere with us in the least. We'll take up our position here;
+sit still.'
+
+Cucumber wrapped his ragged smock round him, twitched his shoulders, his
+lips, his beard.... Obviously he felt our presence oppressive and he
+would have been glad to slink away, ... but the brigadier was again lost
+in the contemplation of his float.... The 'ne'er-do-weel' coughed twice,
+sat down on the very edge of the seat, put his hat on his knees, and,
+tucking his bare legs up under him, he discreetly dropped in his line.
+
+'Any bites?' Narkiz inquired haughtily, as in leisurely fashion he
+unwound his reel.
+
+'We've caught a matter of five loaches,' answered Cucumber in a cracked
+and husky voice: 'and he took a good-sized perch.'
+
+'Yes, a perch,' repeated the brigadier in a shrill pipe.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+I fell to watching closely--not him, but his reflection in the pond. It
+was as clearly reflected as in a looking-glass--a little darker, a
+little more silvery. The wide stretch of pond wafted a refreshing
+coolness upon us; a cool breath of air seemed to rise, too, from the
+steep, damp bank; and it was the sweeter, as in the dark blue, flooded
+with gold, above the tree tops, the stagnant sultry heat hung, a burden
+that could be felt, over our heads. There was no stir in the water near
+the dike; in the shade cast by the drooping bushes on the bank, water
+spiders gleamed, like tiny bright buttons, as they described their
+everlasting circles; at long intervals there was a faint ripple just
+perceptible round the floats, when a fish was 'playing' with the worm.
+Very few fish were taken; during a whole hour we drew up only two
+loaches and an eel. I could not say why the brigadier aroused my
+curiosity; his rank could not have any influence on me; ruined noblemen
+were not even at that time looked upon as a rarity, and his appearance
+presented nothing remarkable. Under the warm cap, which covered the
+whole upper part of his head down to his ears and his eyebrows, could be
+seen a smooth, red, clean-shaven, round face, with a little nose, little
+lips, and small, clear grey eyes. Simplicity and weakness of character,
+and a sort of long-standing, helpless sorrow, were visible in that meek,
+almost childish face; the plump, white little hands with short fingers
+had something helpless, incapable about them too.... I could not
+conceive how this forlorn old man could once have been an officer, could
+have maintained discipline, have given his commands--and that, too, in
+the stern days of Catherine! I watched him; now and then he puffed out
+his cheeks and uttered a feeble whistle, like a little child; sometimes
+he screwed up his eyes painfully, with effort, as all decrepit people
+will. Once he opened his eyes wide and lifted them.... They stared at me
+from out of the depths of the water--and strangely touching and even
+full of meaning their dejected glance seemed to me.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+I tried to begin a conversation with the brigadier ... but Narkiz had
+not misinformed me; the poor old man certainly had become weak in his
+intellect. He asked me my surname, and after repeating his inquiry
+twice, pondered and pondered, and at last brought out: 'Yes, I fancy
+there was a judge of that name here. Cucumber, wasn't there a judge
+about here of that name, hey?' 'To be sure there was, Vassily Fomitch,
+your honour,' responded Cucumber, who treated him altogether as a child.
+'There was, certainly. But let me have your hook; your worm must have
+been eaten off.... Yes, so it is.'
+
+'Did you know the Lomov family?' the brigadier suddenly asked me in a
+cracked voice.
+
+'What Lomov family is that?'
+
+'Why, Fiodor Ivanitch, Yevstigney Ivanitch, Alexey Ivanitch the Jew, and
+Fedulia Ivanovna the plunderer, ... and then, too ...'
+
+The brigadier suddenly broke off and looked down confused.
+
+They were the people he was most intimate with,' Narkiz whispered,
+bending towards me; 'it was through them, through that same Alexey
+Ivanitch, that he called a Jew, and through a sister of Alexey
+Ivanitch's, Agrafena Ivanovna, as you may say, that he lost all his
+property.'
+
+'What are you saying there about Agrafena Ivanovna?' the brigadier
+called out suddenly, and his head was raised, his white eyebrows were
+frowning.... 'You'd better mind! And why Agrafena, pray? Agrippina
+Ivanovna--that's what you should call her.'
+
+'There--there--there, sir,' Cucumber was beginning to falter.
+
+'Don't you know the verses the poet Milonov wrote about her?' the old
+man went on, suddenly getting into a state of excitement, which was a
+complete surprise to me. 'No hymeneal lights were kindled,' he began
+chanting, pronouncing all the vowels through his nose, giving the
+syllables 'an,' 'en,' the nasal sound they have in French; and it was
+strange to hear this connected speech from his lips: 'No torches ... No,
+that's not it:
+
+  "Not vain Corruption's idols frail
+  Not amaranth nor porphyry
+  Rejoiced their hearts ...
+  One thing in them ..."
+
+'That was about us. Do you hear?
+
+  "One thing in them unquenchable,
+  Subduing, sweet, desirable,
+  To nurse their mutual flame in love!"
+
+And you talk about Agrafena!'
+
+Narkiz chuckled half-contemptuously, half-indifferently. 'What a queer
+fish it is!' he said to himself. But the brigadier had again relapsed
+into dejection, the rod had dropped from his hands and slipped into
+the water.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+'Well, to my thinking, our fishing is a poor business,' observed
+Cucumber; 'the fish, see, don't bite at all. It's got fearfully hot, and
+there's a fit of "mencholy" come over our gentleman. It's clear we must
+be going home; that will be best.' He cautiously drew out of his pocket
+a tin bottle with a wooden stopper, uncorked it, scattered snuff on his
+wrist, and sniffed it up in both nostrils at once.... 'Ah, what good
+snuff!' he moaned, as he recovered himself. 'It almost made my tooth
+ache! Now, my dear Vassily Fomitch, get up--it's time to be off!'
+
+The brigadier got up from the bench.
+
+'Do you live far from here?' I asked Cucumber.
+
+'No, our gentleman lives not far ... it won't be as much as a mile.'
+
+'Will you allow me to accompany you?' I said, addressing the brigadier.
+I felt disinclined to let him go.
+
+Narkiz was surprised at my intention; but I paid no attention to the
+disapproving shake of his long-eared cap, and walked out of the garden
+with the brigadier, who was supported by Cucumber. The old man moved
+fairly quickly, with a motion as though he were on stilts.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+We walked along a scarcely trodden path, through a grassy glade between
+two birch copses. The sun was blazing; the orioles called to each other
+in the green thicket; corncrakes chattered close to the path; blue
+butterflies fluttered in crowds about the white, and red flowers of the
+low-growing clover; in the perfectly still grass bees hung, as though
+asleep, languidly buzzing. Cucumber seemed to pull himself together, and
+brightened up; he was afraid of Narkiz--he lived always under his eye; I
+was a stranger--a new comer--with me he was soon quite at home.
+
+'Here's our gentleman,' he said in a rapid flow; 'he's a small eater
+and no mistake! but only one perch, is that enough for him? Unless,
+your honour, you would like to contribute something? Close here round
+the corner, at the little inn, there are first-rate white wheaten
+rolls. And if so, please your honour, this poor sinner, too, will
+gladly drink on this occasion to your health, and may it be of long
+years and long days.' I gave him a little silver, and was only just in
+time to pull away my hand, which he was falling upon to kiss. He
+learned that I was a sportsman, and fell to talking of a very good
+friend of his, an officer, who had a 'Mindindenger' Swedish gun, with a
+copper stock, just like a cannon, so that when you fire it off you are
+almost knocked senseless--it had been left behind by the French--and a
+dog--simply one of Nature's marvels! that he himself had always had a
+great passion for the chase, and his priest would have made no trouble
+about it--he used in fact to catch quails with him--but the
+ecclesiastical superior had pursued him with endless persecution; 'and
+as for Narkiz Semyonitch,' he observed in a sing-song tone, 'if
+according to his notions I'm not a trustworthy person--well, what I say
+is: he's let his eyebrows grow till he's like a woodcock, and he
+fancies all the sciences are known to him.' By this time we had reached
+the inn, a solitary tumble-down, one-roomed little hut without backyard
+or outbuildings; an emaciated dog lay curled up under the window; a hen
+was scratching in the dust under his very nose. Cucumber sat the
+brigadier down on the bank, and darted instantly into the hut. While he
+was buying the rolls and emptying a glass, I never took my eyes off the
+brigadier, who, God knows why, struck me as something of an enigma. In
+the life of this man--so I mused--there must certainly have been
+something out of the ordinary. But he, it seemed, did not notice me at
+all. He was sitting huddled up on the bank, and twisting in his fingers
+some pinks which he had gathered in my friend's garden. Cucumber made
+his appearance, at last, with a bundle of rolls in his hand; he made
+his appearance, all red and perspiring, with an expression of gleeful
+surprise on his face, as though he had just seen something exceedingly
+agreeable and unexpected. He at once offered the brigadier a roll to
+eat, and the latter at once ate it. We proceeded on our way.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+On the strength of the spirits he had drunk, Cucumber quite 'unbent,' as
+it is called. He began trying to cheer up the brigadier, who was still
+hurrying forward with a tottering motion as though he were on stilts.
+'Why are you so downcast, sir, and hanging your head? Let me sing you a
+song. That'll cheer you up in a minute.' He turned to me: 'Our gentleman
+is very fond of a joke, mercy on us, yes! Yesterday, what did I see?--a
+peasant-woman washing a pair of breeches on the platform, and a great
+fat woman she was, and he stood behind her, simply all of a shake with
+laughter--yes, indeed! ... In a minute, allow me: do you know the song of
+the hare? You mustn't judge me by my looks; there's a gypsy woman living
+here in the town, a perfect fright, but sings--'pon my soul! one's ready
+to lie down and die.' He opened wide his moist red lips and began
+singing, his head on one side, his eyes shut, and his beard quivering:
+
+  'The hare beneath the bush lies still,
+  The hunters vainly scour the hill;
+  The hare lies hid and holds his breath,
+  His ears pricked up, he lies there still
+       Waiting for death.
+  O hunters! what harm have I done,
+  To vex or injure you? Although
+  Among the cabbages I run,
+  One leaf I nibble--only one,
+       And that's not yours!
+          Oh, no!'
+
+Cucumber went on with ever-increasing energy:
+
+  'Into the forest dark he fled,
+  His tail he let the hunters see;
+  "Excuse me, gentlemen," says he,
+  "That so I turn my back on you--
+       I am not yours!"'
+
+Cucumber was not singing now ... he was bellowing:
+
+  'The hunters hunted day and night,
+  And still the hare was out of sight.
+  So, talking over his misdeeds,
+  They ended by disputing quite--
+       Alas, the hare is not for us!
+         The squint-eye is too sharp for us!'
+
+The first two lines of each stanza Cucumber sang with each syllable
+drawn out; the other three, on the contrary, very briskly, and
+accompanied them with little hops and shuffles of his feet; at the
+conclusion of each verse he cut a caper, in which he kicked himself with
+his own heels. As he shouted at the top of his voice: 'The squint-eye is
+too sharp for us!' he turned a somersault.... His expectations were
+fulfilled. The brigadier suddenly went off into a thin, tearful little
+chuckle, and laughed so heartily that he could not go on, and stayed
+still in a half-sitting posture, helplessly slapping his knees with his
+hands. I looked at his face, flushed crimson, and convulsively working,
+and felt very sorry for him at that instant especially. Encouraged by
+his success, Cucumber fell to capering about in a squatting position,
+singing the refrain of: 'Shildi-budildi!' and 'Natchiki-tchikaldi!' He
+stumbled at last with his nose in the dust.... The brigadier suddenly
+ceased laughing and hobbled on.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+We went on another quarter of a mile. A little village came into sight
+on the edge of a not very deep ravine; on one side stood the 'lodge,'
+with a half-ruined roof and a solitary chimney; in one of the two rooms
+of this lodge lived the brigadier. The owner of the village, who always
+resided in Petersburg, the widow of the civil councillor Lomov, had--so
+I learned later--bestowed this little nook upon the brigadier. She had
+given orders that he should receive a monthly pension, and had also
+assigned for his service a half-witted serf-girl living in the same
+village, who, though she barely understood human speech, was yet
+capable, in the lady's opinion, of sweeping a floor and cooking
+cabbage-soup. At the door of the lodge the brigadier again addressed me
+with the same eighteenth-century smile: would I be pleased to walk into
+his 'apartement'? We went into this 'apartement.' Everything in it was
+exceedingly filthy and poor, so filthy and so poor that the brigadier,
+noticing, probably, by the expression of my face, the impression it made
+on me, observed, shrugging his shoulders, and half closing his eyelids:
+'Ce n'est pas ... oeil de perdrix.' ... What precisely he meant by this
+remained a mystery to me.... When I addressed him in French, I got no
+reply from him in that language. Two objects struck me especially in the
+brigadier's abode: a large officer's cross of St. George in a black
+frame, under glass, with an inscription in an old-fashioned handwriting:
+'Received by the Colonel of the Tchernigov regiment, Vassily Guskov, for
+the storming of Prague in the year 1794'; and secondly, a half-length
+portrait in oils of a handsome, black-eyed woman with a long, dark face,
+hair turned up high and powdered, with postiches on the temple and chin,
+in a flowered, low-cut bodice, with blue frills, the style of 1780. The
+portrait was badly painted, but was probably a good likeness; there was
+a wonderful look of life and will, something extraordinarily living and
+resolute, about the face. It was not looking at the spectator; it was,
+as it were, turning away and not smiling; the curve of the thin nose,
+the regular but flat lips, the almost unbroken straight line of the
+thick eyebrows, all showed an imperious, haughty, fiery temper. No great
+effort was needed to picture that face glowing with passion or with
+rage. Just below the portrait on a little pedestal stood a half-withered
+bunch of simple wild flowers in a thick glass jar. The brigadier went up
+to the pedestal, stuck the pinks he was carrying into the jar, and
+turning to me, and lifting his hand in the direction of the portrait, he
+observed: 'Agrippina Ivanovna Teliegin, by birth Lomov.' The words of
+Narkiz came back to my mind; and I looked with redoubled interest at the
+expressive and evil face of the woman for whose sake the brigadier had
+lost all his fortune.
+
+'You took part, I see, sir, in the storming of Prague,' I began,
+pointing to the St. George cross, 'and won a sign of distinction, rare
+at any time, but particularly so then; you must remember Suvorov?'
+
+'Alexander Vassilitch?' the brigadier answered, after a brief silence,
+in which he seemed to be pulling his thoughts together; 'to be sure, I
+remember him; he was a little, brisk old man. Before one could stir a
+finger, he'd be here and there and everywhere (the brigadier chuckled).
+He rode into Warsaw on a Cossack horse; he was all in diamonds, and he
+says to the Poles: "I've no watch, I forgot it in Petersburg--no watch!"
+and they shouted and huzzaed for him. Queer chaps! Hey! Cucumber! lad!'
+he added suddenly, changing and raising his voice (the deacon-buffoon
+had remained standing at the door), 'where's the rolls, eh? And tell
+Grunka ... to bring some kvas!'
+
+'Directly, your honour,' I heard Cucumber's voice reply. He handed the
+brigadier the bundle of rolls, and, going out of the lodge, approached a
+dishevelled creature in rags--the half-witted girl, Grunka, I
+suppose--and as far as I could make out through the dusty little window,
+proceeded to demand kvas from her--at least, he several times raised one
+hand like a funnel to his mouth, and waved the other in our direction.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+I made another attempt to get into conversation with the brigadier;
+but he was evidently tired: he sank, sighing and groaning, on the
+little couch, and moaning, 'Oy, oy, my poor bones, my poor bones,'
+untied his garters. I remember I wondered at the time how a man came
+to be wearing garters. I did not realise that in former days every one
+wore them. The brigadier began yawning with prolonged, unconcealed
+yawns, not taking his drowsy eyes off me all the time; so very little
+children yawn. The poor old man did not even seem quite to understand
+my question.... And he had taken Prague! He, sword in hand, in the
+smoke and the dust--at the head of Suvorov's soldiers, the
+bullet-pierced flag waving above him, the hideous corpses under his
+feet.... He ... he! Wasn't it wonderful! But yet I could not help
+fancying that there had been events more extraordinary in the
+brigadier's life. Cucumber brought white kvas in an iron jug; the
+brigadier drank greedily--his hands shook. Cucumber supported the
+bottom of the jug. The old man carefully wiped his toothless mouth
+with both hands--and again staring at me, fell to chewing and munching
+his lips. I saw how it was, bowed, and went out of the room.
+
+'Now he'll have a nap,' observed Cucumber, coming out behind me. 'He's
+terribly knocked up to-day--he went to the grave early this morning.'
+
+'To whose grave?'
+
+'To Agrafena Ivanovna's, to pay his devotions.... She is buried in our
+parish cemetery here; it'll be four miles from here. Vassily Fomitch
+visits it every week without fail. Indeed, it was he who buried her and
+put the fence up at his own expense.'
+
+'Has she been dead long?'
+
+'Well, let's think--twenty years about.'
+
+'Was she a friend of his, or what?'
+
+'Her whole life, you may say, she passed with him ... really. I
+myself, I must own, never knew the lady, but they do say ... what
+there was between them ... well, well, well! Sir,' the deacon added
+hurriedly, seeing I had turned away, 'wouldn't you like to give me
+something for another drop, for it's time I was home in my hut and
+rolled up in my blanket?'
+
+I thought it useless to question Cucumber further, so gave him a few
+coppers, and set off homewards.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+At home I betook myself for further information to Narkiz. He, as I
+might have anticipated, was somewhat unapproachable, stood a little on
+his dignity, expressed his surprise that such paltry matters could
+'interest' me, and, finally, told me what he knew. I heard the
+following details.
+
+Vassily Fomitch Guskov had become acquainted with Agrafena Ivanovna
+Teliegin at Moscow soon after the suppression of the Polish
+insurrection; her husband had had a post under the governor-general, and
+Vassily Fomitch was on furlough. He fell in love with her there and
+then, but did not leave the army at once; he was a man of forty with no
+family, with a fortune. Her husband soon after died. She was left
+without children, poor, and in debt.... Vassily Fomitch heard of her
+position, threw up the service (he received the rank of brigadier on his
+retirement) and sought out his charming widow, who was not more than
+five-and-twenty, paid all her debts, redeemed her estate.... From that
+time he had never parted from her, and finished by living altogether in
+her house. She, too, seems to have cared for him, but would not marry
+him. 'She was froward, the deceased lady,' was Narkiz's comment on this:
+'My liberty,' she would say, 'is dearer to me than anything.' But as for
+making use of him--she made use of him 'in every possible way,' and
+whatever money he had, he dragged to her like an ant. But the
+frowardness of Agrafena Ivanovna at times assumed extreme proportions;
+she was not of a mild temper, and somewhat too ready with her hands....
+Once she pushed her page-boy down the stairs, and he went and broke two
+of his ribs and one leg.... Agrafena Ivanovna was frightened ... she
+promptly ordered the page to be shut up in the lumber-room, and she did
+not leave the house nor give up the key of the room to any one, till the
+moans within had ceased.... The page was secretly buried.... 'And had it
+been in the Empress Catherine's time,' Narkiz added in a whisper,
+bending down, 'maybe the affair would have ended there--many such deeds
+were hidden under a bushel in those days, but as ...' here Narkiz drew
+himself up and raised his voice:' as our righteous Tsar Alexander the
+Blessed was reigning then ... well, a fuss was made.... A trial
+followed, the body was dug up ... signs of violence were found on it ...
+and a great to-do there was. And what do you think? Vassily Fomitch took
+it all on himself. "I," said he, "am responsible for it all; it was I
+pushed him down, and I too shut him up." Well, of course, all the judges
+then, and the lawyers and the police ... fell on him directly ... fell
+on him and never let him go ... I can assure you ... till the last
+farthing was out of his purse. They'd leave him in peace for a while,
+and then attack him again. Down to the very time when the French came
+into Russia they were worrying at him, and only dropped him then. Well,
+he managed to provide for Agrafena Ivanovna--to be sure, he saved
+her--that one must say. Well, and afterwards, up to her death, indeed,
+he lived with her, and they do say she led him a pretty dance--the
+brigadier, that is; sent him on foot from Moscow into the country--by
+God, she did--to get her rents in, I suppose. It was on her account, on
+account of this same Agrafena Ivanovna--he fought a duel with the
+English milord Hugh Hughes; and the English milord was forced to make a
+formal apology too. But later on the brigadier went down hill more and
+more.... Well, and now he can't be reckoned a man at all.'
+
+'Who was that Alexey Ivanitch the Jew,' I asked, 'through whom he was
+brought to ruin?'
+
+'Oh, the brother of Agrafena Ivanovna. A grasping creature, Jewish
+indeed. He lent his sister money at interest, and Vassily Fomitch was
+her security. He had to pay for it too ... pretty heavily!'
+
+'And Fedulia Ivanovna the plunderer--who was she?'
+
+'Her sister too ... and a sharp one too, as sharp as a lance. A
+terrible woman!'
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+'What a place to find a Werter!' I thought next day, as I set off again
+towards the brigadier's dwelling. I was at that time very young, and
+that was possibly why I thought it my duty not to believe in the lasting
+nature of love. Still, I was impressed and somewhat puzzled by the story
+I had heard, and felt an intense desire to stir up the old man, to make
+him talk freely. 'I'll first refer to Suvorov again,' so I resolved
+within myself; 'there must be some spark of his former fire hidden
+within him still ... and then, when he's warmed up, I'll turn the
+conversation on that ... what's her name? ... Agrafena Ivanovna. A queer
+name for a "Charlotte"--Agrafena!'
+
+I found my Werter-Guskov in the middle of a tiny kitchen-garden, a few
+steps from the lodge, near the old framework of a never-finished hut,
+overgrown with nettles. On the mildewed upper beams of this skeleton hut
+some miserable-looking turkey poults were scrambling, incessantly
+slipping and flapping their wings and cackling. There was some poor sort
+of green stuff growing in two or three borders. The brigadier had just
+pulled a young carrot out of the ground, and rubbing it under his arm
+'to clean it,' proceeded to chew its thin tail.... I bowed to him, and
+inquired after his health.
+
+He obviously did not recognise me, though he returned my greeting--that
+is to say, touched his cap with his hand, though without leaving off
+munching the carrot.
+
+'You didn't go fishing to-day?' I began, in the hope of recalling myself
+to his memory by this question.
+
+'To-day?' he repeated and pondered ... while the carrot, stuck into his
+mouth, grew shorter and shorter. 'Why, I suppose it's Cucumber
+fishing! ... But I'm allowed to, too.'
+
+'Of course, of course, most honoured Vassily Fomitch.... I didn't mean
+that.... But aren't you hot ... like this in the sun.'
+
+The brigadier was wearing a thick wadded dressing-gown.
+
+'Eh? Hot?' he repeated again, as though puzzled over the question, and,
+having finally swallowed the carrot, he gazed absently upwards.
+
+'Would you care to step into my apartement?' he said suddenly. The
+poor old man had, it seemed, only this phrase still left him always at
+his disposal.
+
+We went out of the kitchen-garden ... but there involuntarily I stopped
+short. Between us and the lodge stood a huge bull. With his head down to
+the ground, and a malignant gleam in his eyes, he was snorting heavily
+and furiously, and with a rapid movement of one fore-leg, he tossed the
+dust up in the air with his broad cleft hoof, lashed his sides with his
+tail, and suddenly backing a little, shook his shaggy neck stubbornly,
+and bellowed--not loud, but plaintively, and at the same time
+menacingly. I was, I confess, alarmed; but Vassily Fomitch stepped
+forward with perfect composure, and saying in a stern voice, 'Now then,
+country bumpkin,' shook his handkerchief at him. The bull backed again,
+bowed his horns ... suddenly rushed to one side and ran away, wagging
+his head from side to side.
+
+'There's no doubt he took Prague,' I thought.
+
+We went into the room. The brigadier pulled his cap off his hair, which
+was soaked with perspiration, ejaculated, 'Fa!' ... squatted down on the
+edge of a chair ... bowed his head gloomily....
+
+'I have come to you, Vassily Fomitch,' I began my diplomatic approaches,
+'because, as you have served under the leadership of the great
+Suvorov--have taken part altogether in such important events--it would
+be very interesting for me to hear some particulars of your past.'
+
+The brigadier stared at me.... His face kindled strangely--I began to
+expect, if not a story, at least some word of approval, of sympathy....
+
+'But I, sir, must be going to die soon,' he said in an undertone.
+
+I was utterly nonplussed.
+
+'Why, Vassily Fomitch, 'I brought out at last, 'what makes you ...
+suppose that?'
+
+The brigadier suddenly flung his arms violently up and down.
+
+'Because, sir ... I, as maybe you know ... often in my dreams see
+Agrippina Ivanovna--Heaven's peace be with her!--and never can I catch
+her; I am always running after her--but cannot catch her. But last
+night--I dreamed--she was standing, as it were, before me, half-turned
+away, and laughing.... I ran up to her at once and caught her ... and she
+seemed to turn round quite and said to me: "Well, Vassinka, now you
+have caught me."'
+
+'What do you conclude from that, Vassily Fomitch?'
+
+'Why, sir, I conclude: it has come, that we shall be together. And glory
+to God for it, I tell you; glory be to God Almighty, the Father, the
+Son, and the Holy Ghost (the brigadier fell into a chant): as it was in
+the beginning, is now and ever shall be, Amen!'
+
+The brigadier began crossing himself. I could get nothing more out of
+him, so I went away.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+The next day my friend arrived.... I mentioned the brigadier, and my
+visits to him....
+
+'Oh yes! of course! I know his story,' answered my friend; 'I know
+Madame Lomov very well, the privy councillor's widow, by whose favour he
+obtained a home here. Oh, wait a minute; I believe there must be
+preserved here his letter to the privy councillor's widow; it was on the
+strength of that letter that she assigned him his little cot.' My friend
+rummaged among his papers and actually found the brigadier's letter.
+Here it is word for word, with the omission of the mistakes in spelling.
+The brigadier, like every one of his epoch, was a little hazy in that
+respect. But to preserve these errors seemed unnecessary; his letter
+bears the stamp of his age without them.
+
+'HONOURED MADAM, RAISSA PAVLOVNA!--On the decease of my friend, and your
+aunt, I had the happiness of addressing to you two letters, the first on
+the first of June, the second on the sixth of July of the year 1815,
+while she expired on the sixth of May in that year; in them I discovered
+to you the feelings of my soul and of my heart, which were crushed under
+deadly wrongs, and they reflected in full my bitter despair, in truth
+deserving of commiseration; both letters were despatched by the imperial
+mail registered, and hence I cannot conceive that they have not been
+perused by your eye. By the genuine candour of my letters, I had counted
+upon winning your benevolent attention; but the compassionate feelings
+of your heart were far removed from me in my woe! Left on the loss of my
+one only friend, Agrippina Ivanovna, in the most distressed and
+poverty-stricken circumstances, I rested, by her instructions, all my
+hopes on your bounty; she, aware of her end approaching, said to me in
+these words, as it were from the grave, and never can I forget them: "My
+friend, I have been your serpent, and am guilty of all your unhappiness.
+I feel how much you have sacrificed for me, and in return I leave you in
+a disastrous and truly destitute situation; on my death have recourse to
+Raissa Pavlovna"--that is, to you--"and implore her aid, invite her
+succour! She has a feeling heart, and I have confidence in her, that she
+will not leave you forlorn." Honoured madam, let me call to witness the
+all-high Creator of the world that those were her words, and I am
+speaking with her tongue; and, therefore, trusting firmly in your
+goodness, to you first of all I addressed myself with my open-hearted
+and candid letters; but after protracted expectation, receiving no reply
+to them, I could not conceive otherwise than that your benevolent heart
+had left me without attention! Such your unfavourable disposition
+towards me, reduced me to the depths of despair--whither, and to whom,
+was I to turn in my misfortune I knew not; my soul was troubled, my
+intellect went astray; at last, for the completion of my ruin, it
+pleased Providence to chastise me in a still more cruel manner, and to
+turn my thoughts to your deceased aunt, Fedulia Ivanovna, sister of
+Agrippina Ivanovna, one in blood, but not one in heart! Having present
+to myself, before my mind's eye, that I had been for twenty years
+devoted to the whole family of your kindred, the Lomovs, especially to
+Fedulia Ivanovna, who never called Agrippina Ivanovna otherwise than "my
+heart's precious treasure," and me "the most honoured and zealous friend
+of our family"; picturing all the above, among abundant tears and sighs
+in the stillness of sorrowful night watches, I thought: "Come,
+brigadier! so, it seems, it is to be!" and, addressing myself by letter
+to the said Fedulia Ivanovna, I received a positive assurance that she
+would share her last crumb with me! The presents sent on by me, more
+than five hundred roubles' worth in value, were accepted with supreme
+satisfaction; and afterwards the money too which I brought with me for
+my maintenance, Fedulia Ivanovna was pleased, on the pretext of guarding
+it, to take into her care, to the which, to gratify her, I offered no
+opposition.
+
+If you ask me whence, and on what ground I conceived such confidence--to
+the above, madam, there is but one reply: she was sister of Agrippina
+Ivanovna, and a member of the Lomov family! But alas and alas! all the
+money aforesaid I was very soon deprived of, and the hopes which I had
+rested on Fedulia Ivanovna--that she would share her last crumb with
+me--turned out to be empty and vain; on the contrary, the said Fedulia
+Ivanovna enriched herself with my property. To wit, on her saint's day,
+the fifth of February, I brought her fifty roubles' worth of green
+French material, at five roubles the yard; I myself received of all that
+was promised five roubles' worth of white pique for a waistcoat and a
+muslin handkerchief for my neck, which gifts were purchased in my
+presence, as I was aware, with my own money--and that was all that I
+profited by Fedulia Ivanovna's bounty! So much for the last crumb! And I
+could further, in all sincerity, disclose the malignant doings of
+Fedulia Ivanovna to me; and also my expenses, exceeding all reason, as,
+among the rest, for sweetmeats and fruits, of which Fedulia Ivanovna was
+exceedingly fond;--but upon all this I am silent, that you may not take
+such disclosures against the dead in bad part; and also, seeing that God
+has called her before His judgment seat--and all that I suffered at her
+hands is blotted out from my heart--and I, as a Christian, forgave her
+long ago, and pray to God to forgive her!
+
+'But, honoured madam, Raissa Pavlovna! Surely you will not blame me for
+that I was a true and loyal friend of your family, and that I loved
+Agrippina Ivanovna with a love so great and so insurmountable that I
+sacrificed to her my life, my honour, and all my fortune! that I was
+utterly in her hands, and hence could not dispose of myself nor of my
+property, and she disposed at her will of me and also of my estate! It
+is known to you also that, owing to her action with her servant, I
+suffer, though innocent, a deadly wrong--this affair I brought after her
+death before the senate, before the sixth department--it is still
+unsettled now--in consequence of which I was made accomplice with her,
+my estate put under guardianship, and I am still lying under a criminal
+charge! In my position, at my age, such disgrace is intolerable to me;
+and it is only left me to console my heart with the mournful reflection
+that thus, even after Agrippina Ivanovna's death, I suffer for her sake,
+and so prove my immutable love and loyal gratitude to her!
+
+'In my letters, above mentioned, to you, I gave you an account with
+every detail of Agrippina Ivanovna's funeral, and what masses were read
+for her--my affection and love for her spared no outlay! For all the
+aforesaid, and for the forty days' requiems, and the reading of the
+psalter six weeks after for her (in addition to above, fifty roubles
+of mine were lost, which were given as security for payment for
+the stone, of which I sent you a description)--on all the aforesaid
+was spent of my money seven hundred and fifty roubles, in which is
+included, by way of donation to the church, a hundred and fifty roubles.
+
+'In the goodness of your heart, hear the cry of a desperate man, crushed
+beneath a load of the crudest calamities! Only your commiseration and
+humanity can restore the life of a ruined man! Though living--in the
+suffering of my heart and soul I am as one dead; dead when I think what
+I was, and what I am; I was a soldier, and served my country in all
+fidelity and uprightness, as is the bounden duty of a loyal Russian and
+faithful subject, and was rewarded with the highest honours, and had a
+fortune befitting my birth and station; and now I must cringe and beg
+for a morsel of dry bread; dead above all I am when I think what a
+friend I have lost ... and what is life to me after that? But there is
+no hastening one's end, and the earth will not open, but rather seems
+turned to stone! And so I call upon you, in the benevolence of your
+heart, hush the talk of the people, do not expose yourself to universal
+censure, that for all my unbounded devotion I have not where to lay my
+head; confound them by your bounty to me, turn the tongues of the evil
+speakers and slanderers to glorifying your good works--and I make bold
+in all humility to add, comfort in the grave your most precious aunt,
+Agrippina Ivanovna, who can never be forgotten, and who for your speedy
+succour, in answer to my sinful prayers, will spread her protecting
+wings about your head, and comfort in his declining days a lonely old
+man, who had every reason to expect a different fate! ... And, with the
+most profound respect, I have the honour to be, dear madam, your most
+devoted servant,
+
+VASSILY GUSKOV,
+
+_Brigadier and cavalier._'
+
+Several years later I paid another visit to my friend's little place....
+Vassily Fomitch had long been dead; he died soon after I made his
+acquaintance. Cucumber was still flourishing. He conducted me to the
+tomb of Agrafena Ivanovna. An iron railing enclosed a large slab with a
+detailed and enthusiastically laudatory epitaph on the deceased woman;
+and there, beside it, as it were at her feet, could be seen a little
+mound with a slanting cross on it; the servant of God, the brigadier and
+cavalier, Vassily Guskov, lay under this mound.... His ashes found rest
+at last beside the ashes of the creature he had loved with such
+unbounded, almost undying, love.
+
+1867.
+
+
+
+
+PYETUSHKOV
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+In the year 182- ... there was living in the town of O---- the
+lieutenant Ivan Afanasiitch Pyetushkov. He was born of poor parents, was
+left an orphan at five years old, and came into the charge of a
+guardian. Thanks to this guardian, he found himself with no property
+whatever; he had a hard struggle to make both ends meet. He was of
+medium height, and stooped a little; he had a thin face, covered with
+freckles, but rather pleasing; light brown hair, grey eyes, and a timid
+expression; his low forehead was furrowed with fine wrinkles.
+Pyetushkov's whole life had been uneventful in the extreme; at close
+upon forty he was still youthful and inexperienced as a child. He was
+shy with acquaintances, and exceedingly mild in his manner with persons
+over whose lot he could have exerted control....
+
+People condemned by fate to a monotonous and cheerless existence often
+acquire all sorts of little habits and preferences. Pyetushkov liked to
+have a new white roll with his tea every morning. He could not do
+without this dainty. But behold one morning his servant, Onisim, handed
+him, on a blue-sprigged plate, instead of a roll, three dark red rusks.
+
+Pyetushkov at once asked his servant, with some indignation, what he
+meant by it.
+
+'The rolls have all been sold out,' answered Onisim, a native of
+Petersburg, who had been flung by some queer freak of destiny into the
+very wilds of south Russia.
+
+'Impossible!' exclaimed Ivan Afanasiitch.
+
+'Sold out,' repeated Onisim; 'there's a breakfast at the Marshal's, so
+they've all gone there, you know.'
+
+Onisim waved his hand in the air, and thrust his right foot forward.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch walked up and down the room, dressed, and set off
+himself to the baker's shop. This establishment, the only one of the
+kind in the town of O----, had been opened ten years before by a German
+immigrant, had in a short time begun to flourish, and was still
+flourishing under the guidance of his widow, a fat woman.
+
+Pyetushkov tapped at the window. The fat woman stuck her unhealthy,
+flabby, sleepy countenance out of the pane that opened.
+
+'A roll, if you please,' Pyetushkov said amiably.
+
+'The rolls are all gone,' piped the fat woman.
+
+'Haven't you any rolls?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'How's that?--really! I take rolls from you every day, and pay for them
+regularly.'
+
+The woman stared at him in silence. 'Take twists,' she said at last,
+yawning; 'or a scone.'
+
+'I don't like them,' said Pyetushkov, and he felt positively hurt.
+
+'As you please,' muttered the fat woman, and she slammed to the
+window-pane.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch was quite unhinged by his intense vexation. In his
+perturbation he crossed to the other side of the street, and gave
+himself up entirely, like a child, to his displeasure.
+
+'Sir!' ... he heard a rather agreeable female voice; 'sir!'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch raised his eyes. From the open pane of the bakehouse
+window peeped a girl of about seventeen, holding a white roll in her
+hand. She had a full round face, rosy cheeks, small hazel eyes, rather a
+turn-up nose, fair hair, and magnificent shoulders. Her features
+suggested good-nature, laziness, and carelessness.
+
+'Here's a roll for you, sir,' she said, laughing, 'I'd taken for myself;
+but take it, please, I'll give it up to you.'
+
+'I thank you most sincerely. Allow me ...'
+
+Pyetushkov began fumbling in his pocket.
+
+'No, no! you are welcome to it.'
+
+She closed the window-pane.
+
+Pyetushkov arrived home in a perfectly agreeable frame of mind.
+
+'You couldn't get any rolls,' he said to his Onisim; 'but here, I've got
+one, do you see?'
+
+Onisim gave a bitter laugh.
+
+The same day, in the evening, as Ivan Afanasiitch was undressing, he
+asked his servant, 'Tell me, please, my lad, what's the girl like at the
+baker's, hey?'
+
+Onisim looked away rather gloomily, and responded, 'What do you want to
+know for?'
+
+'Oh, nothing,' said Pyetushkov, taking off his boots with his own hands.
+
+'Well, she's a fine girl!' Onisim observed condescendingly.
+
+'Yes, ... she's not bad-looking,' said Ivan Afanasiitch, also looking
+away. 'And what's her name, do you know?'
+
+'Vassilissa.'
+
+'And do you know her?'
+
+Onisim did not answer for a minute or two.
+
+'We know her.'
+
+Pyetushkov was on the point of opening his mouth again, but he turned
+over on the other side and fell asleep.
+
+Onisim went out into the passage, took a pinch of snuff, and gave his
+head a violent shake.
+
+The next day, early in the morning, Pyetushkov called for his clothes.
+Onisim brought him his everyday coat--an old grass-coloured coat, with
+huge striped epaulettes. Pyetushkov gazed a long while at Onisim without
+speaking, then told him to bring him his new coat. Onisim, with some
+surprise, obeyed. Pyetushkov dressed, and carefully drew on his
+chamois-leather gloves.
+
+'You needn't go to the baker's to-day,' said he with some hesitation;
+'I'm going myself, ... it's on my way.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' responded Onisim, as abruptly as if some one had just given
+him a shove from behind.
+
+Pyetushkov set off, reached the baker's shop, tapped at the window. The
+fat woman opened the pane.
+
+'Give me a roll, please,' Ivan Afanasiitch articulated slowly.
+
+The fat woman stuck out an arm, bare to the shoulder--a huge arm, more
+like a leg than an arm--and thrust the hot bread just under his nose.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch stood some time under the window, walked once or twice
+up and down the street, glanced into the courtyard, and at last, ashamed
+of his childishness, returned home with the roll in his hand. He felt
+ill at ease the whole day, and even in the evening, contrary to his
+habit, did not drop into conversation with Onisim.
+
+The next morning it was Onisim who went
+for the roll.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Some weeks went by. Ivan Afanasiitch had completely forgotten
+Vassilissa, and chatted in a friendly way with his servant as before.
+One fine morning there came to see him a certain Bublitsyn, an
+easy-mannered and very agreeable young man. It is true he sometimes
+hardly knew himself what he was talking about, and was always, as they
+say, a little wild; but all the same he had the reputation of being an
+exceedingly agreeable person to talk to. He smoked a great deal with
+feverish eagerness, with lifted eyebrows and contracted chest--smoked
+with an expression of intense anxiety, or, one might rather say, with an
+expression as though, let him have this one more puff at his pipe, and
+in a minute he would tell you some quite unexpected piece of news; at
+times he would even give a grunt and a wave of the hand, while himself
+sucking at his pipe, as though he had suddenly recollected something
+extraordinarily amusing or important, then he would open his mouth, let
+off a few rings of smoke, and utter the most commonplace remarks, or
+even keep silence altogether. After gossiping a little with Ivan
+Afanasiitch about the neighbours, about horses, the daughters of the
+gentry around, and other such edifying topics, Mr. Bublitsyn suddenly
+winked, pulled up his shock of hair, and, with a sly smile, approached
+the remarkably dim looking-glass which was the solitary ornament of Ivan
+Afanasiitch's room.
+
+'There's no denying the fact,' he pronounced, stroking his light brown
+whiskers, 'we've got girls here that beat any of your Venus of Medicis
+hollow.... Have you seen Vassilissa, the baker girl, for instance?' ...
+Mr. Bublitsyn sucked at his pipe.
+
+Pyetushkov started.
+
+'But why do I ask you?' pursued Bublitsyn, disappearing in a cloud of
+smoke,--'you're not the man to notice, don't you know, Ivan Afanasiitch!
+Goodness knows what you do to occupy yourself, Ivan Afanasiitch!'
+
+'The same as you do,' Pyetushkov replied with some vexation, in a
+drawling voice.
+
+'Oh no, Ivan Afanasiitch, not a bit of it.... How can you say so?'
+
+'Well, why not?'
+
+'Nonsense, nonsense.'
+
+'Why so, why so?'
+
+Bublitsyn stuck his pipe in the corner of his mouth, and began
+scrutinising his not very handsome boots. Pyetushkov felt embarrassed.
+
+'Ah, Ivan Afanasiitch, Ivan Afanasiitch!' pursued Bublitsyn, as though
+sparing his feelings. 'But as to Vassilissa, the baker girl, I can
+assure you: a very, ve-ry fine girl, ... ve-ry.'
+
+Mr. Bublitsyn dilated his nostrils, and slowly plunged his hands into
+his pockets.
+
+Strange to relate, Ivan Afanasiitch felt something of the nature of
+jealousy. He began moving restlessly in his chair, burst into explosive
+laughter at nothing at all, suddenly blushed, yawned, and, as he yawned,
+his lower jaw twitched a little. Bublitsyn smoked three more pipes, and
+withdrew. Ivan Afanasiitch went to the window, sighed, and called for
+something to drink.
+
+Onisim set a glass of kvas on the table, glanced severely at his master,
+leaned back against the door, and hung his head dejectedly.
+
+'What are you so thoughtful about?' his master asked him genially, but
+with some inward trepidation.
+
+'What am I thinking about?' retorted Onisim; 'what am I thinking
+about? ... it's always about you.'
+
+'About me!'
+
+'Of course it's about you.'
+
+'Why, what is it you are thinking?'
+
+'Why, this is what I'm thinking.' (Here Onisim took a pinch of snuff.)
+'You ought to be ashamed, sir--you ought to be ashamed of yourself.'
+
+'Ashamed?'
+
+'Yes, ashamed.... Look at Mr. Bublitsyn, Ivan Afanasiitch.... Tell me if
+he's not a fine fellow, now.'
+
+'I don't understand you.'
+
+'You don't understand me.... Oh yes, you do understand me.'
+
+Onisim paused.
+
+'Mr. Bublitsyn's a real gentleman--what a gentleman ought to be. But
+what are you, Ivan Afanasiitch, what are you? Tell me that.'
+
+'Why, I'm a gentleman too.'
+
+'A gentleman, indeed!' ... retorted Onisim, growing indignant. 'A pretty
+gentleman you are! You're no better, sir, than a hen in a shower of
+rain, Ivan Afanasiitch, let me tell you. Here you sit sticking at home
+the whole blessed day ... much good it does you, sitting at home like
+that! You don't play cards, you don't go and see the gentry, and as
+for ... well ...'
+
+Onisim waved his hand expressively.
+
+'Now, come ... you really go ... too far ...' Ivan Afanasiitch said
+hesitatingly, clutching his pipe.
+
+'Too far, indeed, Ivan Afanasiitch, too far, you say! Judge for
+yourself. Here again, with Vassilissa ... why couldn't you ...'
+
+'But what are you thinking about, Onisim,' Pyetushkov interrupted
+miserably.
+
+'I know what I'm thinking about. But there--I'd better let you alone!
+What can you do? Only fancy ... there you ...'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch got up.
+
+'There, there, if you please, you hold your tongue,' he said quickly,
+seeming to be searching for Onisim with his eyes; 'I shall really,
+you know ... I ... what do you mean by it, really? You'd better help
+me dress.'
+
+Onisim slowly drew off Ivan Afanasiitch's greasy Tartar dressing-gown,
+gazed with fatherly commiseration at his master, shook his head, put him
+on his coat, and fell to beating him about the back with a brush.
+
+Pyetushkov went out, and after a not very protracted stroll about the
+crooked streets of the town, found himself facing the baker's shop. A
+queer smile was playing about his lips.
+
+He had hardly time to look twice at the too well-known 'establishment,'
+when suddenly the little gate opened, and Vassilissa ran out with a
+yellow kerchief on her head and a jacket flung after the Russian fashion
+on her shoulders. Ivan Afanasiitch at once overtook her.
+
+'Where are you going, my dear?'
+
+Vassilissa glanced swiftly at him, laughed, turned away, and put her
+hand over her lips.
+
+'Going shopping, I suppose?' queried Ivan Afanasiitch, fidgeting
+with his feet.
+
+'How inquisitive we are!' retorted Vassilissa.
+
+'Why inquisitive?' said Pyetushkov, hurriedly gesticulating with his
+hands. 'Quite the contrary.... Oh yes, you know,' he added hastily, as
+though these last words completely conveyed his meaning.
+
+'Did you eat my roll?'
+
+'To be sure I did,' replied Pyetushkov: 'with special enjoyment.'
+
+Vassilissa continued to walk on and to laugh.
+
+'It's pleasant weather to-day,' pursued Ivan Afanasiitch: 'do you often
+go out walking?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Ah, how I should like....'
+
+'What say?'
+
+The girls in our district utter those words in a very queer way, with a
+peculiar sharpness and rapidity.... Partridges call at sunset with just
+that sound.
+
+'To go out walking, don't you know, with you ... into the
+country, or ...'
+
+'How can you?'
+
+'Why not?'
+
+'Ah, upon my word, how you do go on!'
+
+'But allow me....'
+
+At this point they were overtaken by a dapper little shopman, with a
+little goat's beard, and with his fingers held apart like antlers, so as
+to keep his sleeves from slipping over his hands, in a long-skirted
+bluish coat, and a warm cap that resembled a bloated water-melon.
+Pyetushkov, for propriety's sake, fell back a little behind Vassilissa,
+but quickly came up with her again.
+
+'Well, then, what about our walk?'
+
+Vassilissa looked slily at him and giggled again.
+
+'Do you belong to these parts?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Vassilissa passed her hand over her hair and walked a little more
+slowly. Ivan Afanasiitch smiled, and, his heart inwardly sinking with
+timidity, he stooped a little on one side and put a trembling arm about
+the beauty's waist.
+
+Vassilissa uttered a shriek.
+
+'Give over, do, for shame, in the street.'
+
+'Come now, there, there,' muttered Ivan Afanasiitch.
+
+'Give over, I tell you, in the street.... Don't be rude.'
+
+'A ... a ... ah, what a girl you are!' said Pyetushkov reproachfully,
+while he blushed up to his ears.
+
+Vassilissa stood still.
+
+'Now go along with you, sir--go along, do.'
+
+Pyetushkov obeyed. He got home, and sat for a whole hour without moving
+from his chair, without even smoking his pipe. At last he took out a
+sheet of greyish paper, mended a pen, and after long deliberation wrote
+the following letter.
+
+'DEAR MADAM, VASSILISSA TIMOFYEVNA!--Being naturally a most inoffensive
+person, how could I have occasioned you annoyance? If I have really been
+to blame in my conduct to you, then I must tell you: the hints of Mr.
+Bublitsyn were responsible for this, which was what I never expected.
+Anyway, I must humbly beg you not to be angry with me. I am a sensitive
+man, and any kindness I am most sensible of and grateful for. Do not be
+angry with me, Vassilissa Timofyevna, I beg you most humbly.--I remain
+respectfully your obedient servant,
+
+IVAN PYETUSHKOV.'
+
+Onisim carried this letter to its address.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+A fortnight passed. Onisim went every morning as usual to the baker's
+shop. One day Vassilissa ran out to meet him.
+
+'Good morning, Onisim Sergeitch.'
+
+Onisim put on a gloomy expression, and responded crossly, ''Morning.'
+
+'How is it you never come to see us, Onisim Sergeitch?'
+
+Onisim glanced morosely at her.
+
+'What should I come for? you wouldn't give me a cup of tea, no fear.'
+
+'Yes, I would, Onisim Sergeitch, I would. You come and see. Rum
+in it, too.'
+
+Onisim slowly relaxed into a smile.
+
+'Well, I don't mind if I do, then.'
+
+'When, then--when?'
+
+'When ... well, you are ...'
+
+'To-day--this evening, if you like. Drop in.
+
+'All right, I'll come along,' replied Onisim, and he sauntered home with
+his slow, rolling step.
+
+The same evening in a little room, beside a bed covered with a striped
+eider-down, Onisim was sitting at a clumsy little table, facing
+Vassilissa. A huge, dingy yellow samovar was hissing and bubbling on the
+table; a pot of geranium stood in the window; in the other corner near
+the door there stood aslant an ugly chest with a tiny hanging lock; on
+the chest lay a shapeless heap of all sorts of old rags; on the walls
+were black, greasy prints. Onisim and Vassilissa drank their tea in
+silence, looking straight at each other, turning the lumps of sugar over
+and over in their hands, as it were reluctantly nibbling them, blinking,
+screwing up their eyes, and with a hissing sound sucking in the
+yellowish boiling liquid through their teeth. At last they had emptied
+the whole samovar, turned upside down the round cups--one with the
+inscription, 'Take your fill'; the other with the words, 'Cupid's dart
+hath pierced my heart'--then they cleared their throats, wiped their
+perspiring brows, and gradually dropped into conversation.
+
+'Onisim Sergeitch, how about your master ...' began Vassilissa, and did
+not finish her sentence.
+
+'What about my master?' replied Onisim, and he leaned on his hand. 'He's
+all right. But why do you ask?'
+
+'Oh, I only asked,' answered Vassilissa.
+
+'But I say'--(here Onisim grinned)--'I say, he wrote you a letter,
+didn't he?'
+
+'Yes, he did.'
+
+Onisim shook his head with an extraordinarily self-satisfied air.
+
+'So he did, did he?' he said huskily, with a smile. 'Well, and what did
+he say in his letter to you?'
+
+'Oh, all sorts of things. "I didn't mean anything, Madam, Vassilissa
+Timofyevna," says he, "don't you think anything of it; don't you be
+offended, madam," and a lot more like that he wrote.... But I say,' she
+added after a brief silence: 'what's he like?'
+
+'He's all right,' Onisim responded indifferently.
+
+'Does he get angry?'
+
+'He get angry! Not he. Why, do you like him?'
+
+Vassilissa looked down and giggled in her sleeve.
+
+'Come,' grumbled Onisim.
+
+'Oh, what's that to you, Onisim Sergeitch?'
+
+'Oh, come, I tell you.'
+
+'Well,' Vassilissa brought out at last, 'he's ... a gentleman. Of
+course ... I ... and besides; he ... you know yourself ...'
+
+'Of course I do,' Onisim observed solemnly.
+
+'Of course you're aware, to be sure, Onisim Sergeitch.' ... Vassilissa
+was obviously becoming agitated.
+
+'You tell him, your master, that I'm ...; say, not angry with him,
+but that ...'
+
+She stammered.
+
+'We understand,' responded Onisim, and he got up from his seat. 'We
+understand. Thanks for the entertainment.'
+
+'Come in again some day.'
+
+'All right, all right.'
+
+Onisim approached the door. The fat woman came into the room.
+
+'Good evening to you, Onisim Sergeitch,' she said in a peculiar chant.
+
+'Good evening to you, Praskovia Ivanovna,' he said in the same
+sing-song.
+
+Both stood still for a little while facing each other.
+
+'Well, good day to you, Praskovia Ivanovna,' Onisim chanted out again.
+
+'Well, good day to you, Onisim Sergeitch,' she responded in the same
+sing-song.
+
+Onisim arrived home. His master was lying on his bed, gazing at
+the ceiling.
+
+'Where have you been?'
+
+'Where have I been?' ... (Onisim had the habit of repeating reproachfully
+the last words of every question.) 'I've been about your business.'
+
+'What business?'
+
+'Why, don't you know? ... I've been to see Vassilissa.'
+
+Pyetushkov blinked and turned over on his bed.
+
+'So that's how it is,' observed Onisim, and he coolly took a pinch of
+snuff. 'So that's how it is. You're always like that. Vassilissa sends
+you her duty.'
+
+'Really?'
+
+'Really? So that's all about it. Really! ... She told me to say, Why is
+it, says she, one never sees him? Why is it, says she, he never comes?'
+
+'Well, and what did you say?'
+
+'What did I say? I told her: You're a silly girl--I told her--as if
+folks like that are coming to see you! No, you come yourself, I
+told her.'
+
+'Well, and what did she say?'
+
+'What did she say? ... She said nothing.'
+
+'That is, how do you mean, nothing?'
+
+'Why, nothing, to be sure.'
+
+Pyetushkov said nothing for a little while.
+
+'Well, and is she coming?'
+
+Onisim shook his head.
+
+'She coming! You're in too great a hurry, sir. She coming, indeed! No,
+you go too fast.' ...
+
+'But you said yourself that ...'
+
+'Oh, well, it's easy to talk.'
+
+Pyetushkov was silent again.
+
+'Well, but how's it to be, then, my lad?'
+
+'How? ... You ought to know best; you 're a gentleman.'
+
+'Oh, nonsense! come now!'
+
+Onisim swayed complacently backwards and forwards.
+
+'Do you know Praskovia Ivanovna?' he asked at last.
+
+'No. What Praskovia Ivanovna?'
+
+'Why, the baker woman!'
+
+'Oh yes, the baker woman. I've seen her; she's very fat.'
+
+'She's a worthy woman. She's own aunt to the other, to your girl.'
+
+'Aunt?'
+
+'Why, didn't you know?'
+
+'No, I didn't know.'
+
+'Well ...'
+
+Onisim was restrained by respect for his master from giving full
+expression to his feelings.
+
+'That's whom it is you should make friends with.'
+
+'Well, I've no objection.'
+
+Onisim looked approvingly at Ivan Afanasiitch.
+
+'But with what object precisely am I to make friends with her?' inquired
+Pyetushkov.
+
+'What for, indeed!' answered Onisim serenely.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch got up, paced up and down the room, stood still before
+the window, and without turning his head, with some hesitation he
+articulated:
+
+'Onisim!'
+
+'What say?'
+
+'Won't it be, you know, a little awkward for me with the old woman, eh?'
+
+'Oh, that's as you like.'
+
+'Oh, well, I only thought it might, perhaps. My comrades might
+notice it; it's a little ... But I'll think it over. Give me my
+pipe.... So she,' he went on after a short silence--Vassilissa, I
+mean, says then ...'
+
+But Onisim had no desire to continue the conversation, and he assumed
+his habitual morose expression.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch's acquaintance with Praskovia Ivanovna began in the
+following manner. Five days after his conversation with Onisim,
+Pyetushkov set off in the evening to the baker's shop. 'Well,' thought
+he, as he unlatched the creaking gate, 'I don't know how it's to be.' ...
+
+He mounted the steps, opened the door. A huge, crested hen rushed, with
+a deafening cackle, straight under his feet, and long after was still
+running about the yard in wild excitement. From a room close by peeped
+the astonished countenance of the fat woman. Ivan Afanasiitch smiled and
+nodded. The fat woman bowed to him. Tightly grasping his hat, Pyetushkov
+approached her. Praskovia Ivanovna was apparently anticipating an
+honoured guest; her dress was fastened up at every hook. Pyetushkov sat
+down on a chair; Praskovia Ivanovna seated herself opposite him.
+
+'I have come to you, Praskovia Ivanovna, more on account of....' Ivan
+Afanasiitch began at last--and then ceased. His lips were twitching
+spasmodically.
+
+'You are kindly welcome, sir,' responded Praskovia Ivanovna in the
+proper sing-song, and with a bow. 'Always delighted to see a guest.'
+
+Pyetushkov took courage a little.
+
+'I have long wished, you know, to have the pleasure of making your
+acquaintance, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+'Much obliged to you, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+Followed a silence. Praskovia Ivanovna wiped her face with a
+parti-coloured handkerchief; Ivan Afanasiitch continued with intense
+attention to gaze away to one side. Both were rather uncomfortable. But
+in merchant and petty shopkeeper society, where even old friends never
+step outside special angular forms of etiquette, a certain constraint in
+the behaviour of guests and host to one another not only strikes no one
+as strange, but, on the contrary, is regarded as perfectly correct and
+indispensable, particularly on a first visit. Praskovia Ivanovna was
+agreeably impressed by Pyetushkov. He was formal and decorous in his
+manners, and moreover, wasn't he a man of some rank, too?
+
+'Praskovia Ivanovna, ma'am, I like your rolls very much,' he said to
+her.
+
+'Really now, really now.'
+
+'Very good they are, you know, very, indeed.'
+
+'May they do you good, sir, may they do you good. Delighted, to be
+sure.'
+
+'I've never eaten any like them in Moscow.'
+
+'You don't say so now, you don't say so.'
+
+Again a silence followed.
+
+'Tell me, Praskovia Ivanovna,' began Ivan Afanasiitch; 'that's your
+niece, I fancy, isn't it, living with you?'
+
+'My own niece, sir.'
+
+'How comes it ... she's with you?'....
+
+'She's an orphan, so I keep her.'
+
+'And is she a good worker?'
+
+'Such a girl to work ... such a girl, sir ... ay ... ay ... to be
+sure she is.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch thought it discreet not to pursue the subject of the
+niece further.
+
+'What bird is that you have in the cage, Praskovia Ivanovna?'
+
+'God knows. A bird of some sort.'
+
+'H'm! Well, so, good day to you, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+'A very good day to your honour. Pray walk in another time, and take a
+cup of tea.'
+
+'With the greatest pleasure, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+Pyetushkov walked out. On the steps he met Vassilissa. She giggled.
+
+'Where are you going, my darling?' said Pyetushkov with reckless daring.
+
+'Come, give over, do, you are a one for joking.'
+
+'He, he! And did you get my letter?'
+
+Vassilissa hid the lower part of her face in her sleeve and made
+no answer.
+
+'And you're not angry with me?'
+
+'Vassilissa!' came the jarring voice of the aunt; 'hey, Vassilissa!'
+
+Vassilissa ran into the house. Pyetushkov returned home. But from that
+day he began going often to the baker's shop, and his visits were not
+for nothing. Ivan Afanasiitch's hopes, to use the lofty phraseology
+suitable, were crowned with success. Usually, the attainment of the goal
+has a cooling effect on people, but Pyetushkov, on the contrary, grew
+every day more and more ardent. Love is a thing of accident, it exists
+in itself, like art, and, like nature, needs no reasons to justify it,
+as some clever man has said who never loved, himself, but made excellent
+observations upon love.
+
+Pyetushkov became passionately attached to Vassilissa. He was completely
+happy. His soul was aglow with bliss. Little by little he carried all
+his belongings, at any rate all his pipes, to Praskovia Ivanovna's, and
+for whole days together he sat in her back room. Praskovia Ivanovna
+charged him something for his dinner and drank his tea, consequently she
+did not complain of his presence. Vassilissa had grown used to him. She
+would work, sing, or spin before him, sometimes exchanging a couple of
+words with him; Pyetushkov watched her, smoked his pipe, swayed to and
+fro in his chair, laughed, and in leisure hours played 'Fools' with her
+and Praskovia Ivanovna. Ivan Afanasiitch was happy....
+
+But in this world nothing is perfect, and, small as a man's
+requirements may be, destiny never quite fulfils them, and positively
+spoils the whole thing, if possible.... The spoonful of pitch is sure
+to find its way into the barrel of honey! Ivan Afanasiitch experienced
+this in his case.
+
+In the first place, from the time of his establishing himself at
+Vassilissa's, Pyetushkov dropped more than ever out of all intercourse
+with his comrades. He saw them only when absolutely necessary, and then,
+to avoid allusions and jeers (in which, however, he was not always
+successful), he put on the desperately sullen and intensely scared look
+of a hare in a display of fireworks.
+
+Secondly, Onisim gave him no peace; he had lost every trace of respect
+for him, he mercilessly persecuted him, put him to shame.
+
+And ... thirdly.... Alas! read further, kindly reader.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+One day Pyetushkov (who for the reasons given above found little comfort
+outside Praskovia Ivanovna's doors) was sitting in Vassilissa's room at
+the back, and was busying himself over some home-brewed concoction,
+something in the way of jam or syrup. The mistress of the house was not
+at home. Vassilissa was sitting in the shop singing.
+
+There came a knock at the little pane. Vassilissa got up, went to the
+window, uttered a little shriek, giggled, and began whispering with some
+one. On going back to her place, she sighed, and then fell to singing
+louder than ever.
+
+'Who was that you were talking to?' Pyetushkov asked her.
+
+Vassilissa went on singing carelessly.
+
+'Vassilissa, do you hear? Vassilissa!'
+
+'What do you want?'
+
+'Whom were you talking to?'
+
+'What's that to you?'
+
+'I only asked.'
+
+Pyetushkov came out of the back room in a parti-coloured smoking-jacket
+with tucked-up sleeves, and a strainer in his hand.
+
+'Oh, a friend of mine,' answered Vassilissa.
+
+'What friend?'
+
+'Oh, Piotr Petrovitch.'
+
+'Piotr Petrovitch? ... what Piotr Petrovitch?'
+
+'He's one of your lot. He's got such a difficult name.'
+
+'Bublitsyn?'
+
+'Yes, yes ... Piotr Petrovitch.'
+
+'And do you know him?'
+
+'Rather!' responded Vassilissa, with a wag of her head.
+
+Pyetushkov, without a word, paced ten times up and down the room.
+
+'I say, Vassilissa,' he said at last, 'that is, how do you know him?'
+
+'How do I know him? ... I know him ... He's such a nice gentleman.'
+
+'How do you mean nice, though? how nice? how nice?'
+
+Vassilissa gazed at Ivan Afanasiitch.
+
+'Nice,' she said slowly and in perplexity. 'You know what I mean.'
+
+Pyetushkov bit his lips and began again pacing the room.
+
+'What were you talking about with him, eh?'
+
+Vassilissa smiled and looked down.
+
+'Speak, speak, speak, I tell you, speak!'
+
+'How cross you are to-day!' observed Vassilissa.
+
+Pyetushkov was silent.
+
+'Come now, Vassilissa,' he began at last; 'no, I won't be cross....
+Come, tell me, what were you talking about?'
+
+Vassilissa laughed.
+
+'He is a one to joke, really, that Piotr Petrovitch!'
+
+'Well, what did he say?'
+
+'He is a fellow!'
+
+Pyetushkov was silent again for a little.
+
+'Vassilissa, you love me, don't you?' he asked her.
+
+'Oh, so that's what you're after, too!'
+
+Poor Pyetushkov felt a pang at his heart. Praskovia Ivanovna came in.
+They sat down to dinner. After dinner Praskovia Ivanovna betook herself
+to the shelf bed. Ivan Afanasiitch himself lay down on the stove, turned
+over and dropped asleep. A cautious creak waked him. Ivan Afanasiitch
+sat up, leaned on his elbow, looked: the door was open. He jumped up--no
+Vassilissa. He ran into the yard--she was not in the yard; into the
+street, looked up and down--Vassilissa was nowhere to be seen. He ran
+without his cap as far as the market--no, Vassilissa was not in sight.
+Slowly he returned to the baker's shop, clambered on to the stove, and
+turned with his face to the wall. He felt miserable. Bublitsyn ...
+Bublitsyn ... the name was positively ringing in his ears.
+
+'What's the matter, my good sir?' Praskovia Ivanovna asked him in a
+drowsy voice. 'Why are you groaning?'
+
+'Oh, nothing, ma'am. Nothing. I feel a weight oppressing me.'
+
+'It's the mushrooms,' murmured Praskovia Ivanovna--'it's all those
+mushrooms.'
+
+O Lord, have mercy on us sinners!
+
+An hour passed, a second--still no Vassilissa. Twenty times Pyetushkov
+was on the point of getting up, and twenty times he huddled miserably
+under the sheepskin.... At last he really did get down from the stove
+and determined to go home, and positively went out into the yard, but
+came back. Praskovia Ivanovna got up. The hired man, Luka, black as a
+beetle, though he was a baker, put the bread into the oven. Pyetushkov
+went again out on to the steps and pondered. The goat that lived in the
+yard went up to him, and gave him a little friendly poke with his horns.
+Pyetushkov looked at him, and for some unknown reason said 'Kss, Kss.'
+Suddenly the low wicket-gate slowly opened and Vassilissa appeared. Ivan
+Afanasiitch went straight to meet her, took her by the hand, and rather
+coolly, but resolutely, said to her:
+
+'Come along with me.'
+
+'But, excuse me, Ivan Afanasiitch ... I ...'
+
+'Come with me,' he repeated.
+
+She obeyed.
+
+Pyetushkov led her to his lodgings. Onisim, as usual, was lying at full
+length asleep. Ivan Afanasiitch waked him, told him to light a candle.
+Vassilissa went to the window and sat down in silence. While Onisim was
+busy getting a light in the anteroom, Pyetushkov stood motionless at the
+other window, staring into the street. Onisim came in, with the candle
+in his hands, was beginning to grumble ... Ivan Afanasiitch turned
+quickly round: 'Go along,' he said to him.
+
+Onisim stood still in the middle of the room.
+
+'Go away at once,' Pyetushkov repeated threateningly.
+
+Onisim looked at his master and went out.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch shouted after him:
+
+'Away, quite away. Out of the house. You can come back in two
+hours' time.'
+
+Onisim slouched off.
+
+Pyetushkov waited till he heard the gate bang, and at once went up to
+Vassilissa.
+
+'Where have you been?'
+
+Vassilissa was confused.
+
+'Where have you been? I tell you,' he repeated.
+
+Vassilissa looked round ...
+
+'I am speaking to you ... where have you been?' And Pyetushkov raised
+his arm ...
+
+'Don't beat me, Ivan Afanasiitch, don't beat me,' Vassilissa whispered
+in terror.
+
+Pyetushkov turned away.
+
+'Beat you ... No! I'm not going to beat you. Beat you? I beg your
+pardon, my darling. God bless you! While I supposed you loved me, while
+I ... I ... '
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch broke off. He gasped for breath.
+
+'Listen, Vassilissa,' he said at last. 'You know I'm a kind-hearted man,
+you know it, don't you, Vassilissa, don't you?'
+
+'Yes, I do,' she said faltering.
+
+'I do nobody any harm, nobody, nobody in the world. And I deceive
+nobody. Why are you deceiving me?'
+
+'But I'm not deceiving you, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'You aren't deceiving me? Oh, very well! Oh, very well! Then tell me
+where you've been.'
+
+'I went to see Matrona.'
+
+'That's a lie!'
+
+'Really, I've been at Matrona's. You ask her, if you don't believe me.'
+
+'And Bub--what's his name ... have you seen that devil?'
+
+'Yes, I did see him.'
+
+'You did see him! you did see him! Oh! you did see him!'
+
+Pyetushkov turned pale.
+
+'So you were making an appointment with him in the morning at the
+window--eh? eh?'
+
+'He asked me to come.'
+
+'And so you went.... Thanks very much, my girl, thanks very much!'
+Pyetushkov made Vassilissa a low bow.
+
+'But, Ivan Afanasiitch, you're maybe fancying ...'
+
+'You'd better not talk to me! And a pretty fool I am! There's nothing to
+make an outcry for! You may make friends with any one you like. I've
+nothing to do with you. So there! I don't want to know you even.'
+
+Vassilissa got up.
+
+'That's for you to say, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'Where are you going?'
+
+'Why, you yourself ...'
+
+'I'm not sending you away,' Pyetushkov interrupted her.
+
+'Oh no, Ivan Afanasiitch.... What's the use of my stopping here?'
+
+Pyetushkov let her get as far as the door.
+
+'So you're going, Vassilissa?'
+
+'You keep on abusing me.'
+
+'I abuse you! You've no fear of God, Vassilissa! When have I abused you?
+Come, come, say when?'
+
+'Why! Just this minute weren't you all but beating me?'
+
+'Vassilissa, it's wicked of you. Really, it's downright wicked.'
+
+'And then you threw it in my face, that you don't want to know me. "I'm
+a gentleman," say you.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch began wringing his hands speechlessly. Vassilissa got
+back as far as the middle of the room.
+
+'Well, God be with you, Ivan Afanasiitch. I'll keep myself to myself,
+and you keep yourself to yourself.'
+
+'Nonsense, Vassilissa, nonsense,' Pyetushkov cut her short. 'You think
+again; look at me. You see I'm not myself. You see I don't know what I'm
+saying.... You might have some feeling for me.'
+
+'You keep on abusing me, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'Ah, Vassilissa! Let bygones be bygones. Isn't that right? Come, you're
+not angry with me, are you?'
+
+'You keep abusing me,' Vassilissa repeated.
+
+'I won't, my love, I won't. Forgive an old man like me. I'll never do it
+in future. Come, you've forgiven me, eh?'
+
+'God be with you, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'Come, laugh then, laugh.'
+
+Vassilissa turned away.
+
+'You laughed, you laughed, my love!' cried Pyetushkov, and he capered
+about like a child.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+The next day Pyetushkov went to the baker's shop as usual. Everything
+went on as before. But there was a settled ache at his heart. He did not
+laugh now as often, and sometimes he fell to musing. Sunday came.
+Praskovia Ivanovna had an attack of lumbago; she did not get down from
+the shelf bed, except with much difficulty to go to mass. After mass
+Pyetushkov called Vassilissa into the back room. She had been
+complaining all the morning of feeling dull. To judge by the expression
+of Ivan Afanasiitch's countenance, he was revolving in his brain some
+extraordinary idea, unforeseen even by him.
+
+'You sit down here, Vassilissa,' he said to her, 'and I'll sit here. I
+want to have a little talk with you.'
+
+Vassilissa sat down.
+
+'Tell me, Vassilissa, can you write?'
+
+'Write?'
+
+'Yes, write?'
+
+'No, I can't.'
+
+'What about reading?'
+
+'I can't read either.'
+
+'Then who read you my letter?'
+
+'The deacon.'
+
+Pyetushkov paused.
+
+'But would you like to learn to read and write?'
+
+'Why, what use would reading and writing be to us, Ivan Afanasiitch?'
+
+'What use? You could read books.'
+
+'But what good is there in books?'
+
+'All sorts of good ... I tell you what, if you like, I'll bring
+you a book.'
+
+'But I can't read, you see, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'I'll read to you.'
+
+'But, I say, won't it be dull?'
+
+'Nonsense! dull! On the contrary, it's the best thing to get rid
+of dulness.'
+
+'Maybe you'll read stories, then.'
+
+'You shall see to-morrow.'
+
+In the evening Pyetushkov returned home, and began rummaging in his
+boxes. He found several odd numbers of the Library of Good Reading, five
+grey Moscow novels, Nazarov's arithmetic, a child's geography with a
+globe on the title-page, the second part of Keydanov's history, two
+dream-books, an almanack for the year 1819, two numbers of Galatea,
+Kozlov's _Natalia Dolgorukaia_, and the first part of _Roslavlev_. He
+pondered a long while which to choose, and finally made up his mind to
+take Kozlov's poem, and _Roslavlev_.
+
+Next day Pyetushkov dressed in haste, put both the books under the lapel
+of his coat, went to the baker's shop, and began reading aloud
+Zagoskin's novel. Vassilissa sat without moving; at first she smiled,
+then seemed to become absorbed in thought ... then she bent a little
+forward; her eyes closed, her mouth slightly opened, her hands fell on
+her knees; she was dozing. Pyetushkov read quickly, inarticulately, in a
+thick voice; he raised his eyes ...
+
+'Vassilissa, are you asleep?'
+
+She started, rubbed her face, and stretched. Pyetushkov felt angry with
+her and with himself....
+
+'It's dull,' said Vassilissa lazily.
+
+'I tell you what, would you like me to read you poetry?'
+
+'What say?'
+
+'Poetry ... good poetry.'
+
+'No, that's enough, really.'
+
+Pyetushkov hurriedly picked up Kozlov's poem, jumped up, crossed the
+room, ran impulsively up to Vassilissa, and began reading. Vassilissa
+let her head drop backwards, spread out her hands, stared into Ivan
+Afanasiitch's face, and suddenly went off into a loud harsh guffaw ...
+she fairly rolled about with laughing.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch flung the book on the floor in his annoyance.
+Vassilissa went on laughing.
+
+'Why, what are you laughing at, silly?'
+
+Vassilissa roared more than ever.
+
+'Laugh away, laugh away,' Pyetushkov muttered between his teeth.
+
+Vassilissa held her sides, gasping.
+
+'But what is it, idiot?' But Vassilissa could only wave her hands.
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch snatched up his cap, and ran out of the house. With
+rapid, unsteady steps, he walked about the town, walked on and on, and
+found himself at the city gates. Suddenly there was the rattle of
+wheels, the tramp of horses along the street.... Some one called him by
+name. He raised his head and saw a big, old-fashioned wagonette. In the
+wagonette facing him sat Mr. Bublitsyn between two young ladies, the
+daughters of Mr. Tiutiurov. Both the girls were dressed exactly alike,
+as though in outward sign of their immutable affection; both smiled
+pensively, and carried their heads on one side with a languid grace. On
+the other side of the carriage appeared the wide straw hat of their
+excellent papa; and from time to time his round, plump neck presented
+itself to the gaze of spectators. Beside his straw hat rose the mob-cap
+of his spouse. The very attitude of both the parents was a sufficient
+proof of their sincere goodwill towards the young man and their
+confidence in him. And Bublitsyn obviously was aware of their flattering
+confidence and appreciated it. He was, of course, sitting in an
+unconstrained position, and talking and laughing without constraint; but
+in the very freedom of his manner there could be discerned a shade of
+tender, touching respectfulness. And the Tiutiurov girls? It is hard to
+convey in words all that an attentive observer could trace in the faces
+of the two sisters. Goodwill and gentleness, and discreet gaiety, a
+melancholy comprehension of life, and a faith, not to be shaken, in
+themselves, in the lofty and noble destiny of man on earth, courteous
+attention to their young companion, in intellectual endowments perhaps
+not fully their equal, but still by the qualities of his heart quite
+deserving of their indulgence ... such were the characteristics and the
+feelings reflected at that moment on the faces of the young ladies.
+Bublitsyn called to Ivan Afanasiitch for no special reason, simply in
+the fulness of his inner satisfaction; he bowed to him with excessive
+friendliness and cordiality. The young ladies even looked at him with
+gentle amiability, as at a man whose acquaintance they would not object
+to.... The good, sleek, quiet horses went by Ivan Afanasiitch at a
+gentle trot; the carriage rolled smoothly along the broad road, carrying
+with it good-humoured, girlish laughter; he caught a final glimpse of
+Mr. Tiutiurov's hat; the two outer horses turned their heads on each
+side, jauntily stepping over the short, green grass ... the coachman gave
+a whistle of approbation and warning, the carriage disappeared behind
+some willows.
+
+A long while poor Pyetushkov remained standing still.
+
+'I'm a poor lonely creature,' he whispered at last ... 'alone in
+the world.'
+
+A little boy in tatters stopped before him, looked timidly at him, held
+out his hand ...
+
+'For Christ's sake, good gentleman.'
+
+Pyetushkov pulled out a copper.
+
+'For your loneliness, poor orphan,' he said with effort, and he walked
+back to the baker's shop. On the threshold of Vassilissa's room Ivan
+Afanasiitch stopped.
+
+'Yes,' he thought, 'these are my friends. Here is my family, this is
+it.... And here Bublitsyn and there Bublitsyn.'
+
+Vassilissa was sitting with her back to him, winding worsted, and
+carelessly singing to herself; she was wearing a striped cotton gown;
+her hair was done up anyhow.... The room, insufferably hot, smelt of
+feather beds and old rags; jaunty, reddish-brown 'Prussians' scurried
+rapidly here and there across the walls; on the decrepit chest of
+drawers, with holes in it where the locks should have been, beside a
+broken jar, lay a woman's shabby slipper.... Kozlov's poem was still
+where it had fallen on the floor.... Pyetushkov shook his head, folded
+his arms, and went away. He was hurt.
+
+At home he called for his things to dress. Onisim slouched off after his
+better coat. Pyetushkov had a great desire to draw Onisim into
+conversation, but Onisim preserved a sullen silence. At last Ivan
+Afanasiitch could hold out no longer.
+
+'Why don't you ask me where I'm going?'
+
+'Why, what do I want to know where you're going for?'
+
+'What for? Why, suppose some one comes on urgent business, and asks,
+"Where's Ivan Afanasiitch?" And then you can tell him, "Ivan Afanasiitch
+has gone here or there."'
+
+'Urgent business.... But who ever does come to you on urgent business?'
+
+'Why, are you beginning to be rude again? Again, hey?'
+
+Onisim turned away, and fell to brushing the coat.
+
+'Really, Onisim, you are a most disagreeable person.'
+
+Onisim looked up from under his brows at his master.
+
+'And you 're always like this. Yes, positively always.'
+
+Onisim smiled.
+
+'But what's the good of my asking you where you're going, Ivan
+Afanasiitch? As though I didn't know! To the girl at the baker's shop!'
+
+'There, that's just where you're wrong! that's just where you're
+mistaken! Not to her at all. I don't intend going to see the girl at the
+baker's shop any more.'
+
+Onisim dropped his eyelids and brandished the brush. Pyetushkov waited
+for his approbation; but his servant remained speechless.
+
+'It's not the proper thing,' Pyetushkov went on in a severe voice--'it's
+unseemly.... Come, tell me what you think?'
+
+'What am I to think? It's for you to say. What business have I to
+think?'
+
+Pyetushkov put on his coat. 'He doesn't believe me, the beast,' he
+thought to himself.
+
+He went out of the house, but he did not go to see any one. He walked
+about the streets. He directed his attention to the sunset. At last a
+little after eight o'clock he returned home. He wore a smile; he
+repeatedly shrugged his shoulders, as though marvelling at his own
+folly. 'Yes,' thought he, 'this is what comes of a strong will....'
+
+Next day Pyetushkov got up rather late. He had not passed a very good
+night, did not go out all day, and was fearfully bored. Pyetushkov read
+through all his poor books, and praised aloud one story in the Library
+of Good Reading. As he went to bed, he told Onisim to give him his pipe.
+Onisim handed him a wretched pipe. Pyetushkov began smoking; the pipe
+wheezed like a broken-winded horse.
+
+'How disgusting!' cried Ivan Afanasiitch; 'where's my cherry wood pipe?'
+
+'At the baker's shop,' Onisim responded tranquilly.
+
+Pyetushkov blinked spasmodically.
+
+'Well, you wish me to go for it?'
+
+'No, you needn't; don't go ... no need, don't go, do you hear?'
+
+'Yes, sir.'
+
+The night passed somehow. In the morning Onisim, as usual, gave
+Pyetushkov on the blue sprigged plate a new white roll. Ivan Afanasiitch
+looked out of window and asked Onisim:
+
+'You've been to the baker's shop?'
+
+'Who's to go, if I don't?'
+
+'Ah!'
+
+Pyetushkov became plunged in meditation.
+
+'Tell me, please, did you see any one there?'
+
+'Of course I did.'
+
+'Whom did you see there, now, for instance?'
+
+'Why, of course, Vassilissa.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch was silent. Onisim cleared the table, and was just
+going out of the room....
+
+'Onisim,' Pyetushkov cried faintly.
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'Er ... did she ask after me?'
+
+'Of course she didn't.'
+
+Pyetushkov set his teeth. 'Yes,' he thought, 'that's all it's worth, her
+love, indeed....' His head dropped. 'Absurd I was, to be sure,' he
+thought again. 'A fine idea to read her poetry. A girl like that! Why,
+she's a fool! Why, she's good for nothing but to lie on the stove and
+eat pancakes. Why, she's a post, a perfect post; an uneducated
+workgirl.'
+
+'She's never come,' he whispered, two hours later, still sitting in the
+same place, 'she's never come. To think of it; why, she could see that I
+left her out of temper; why, she might know that I was hurt. There's
+love for you! And she did not even ask if I were well. Never even said,
+"Is Ivan Afanasiitch quite well?" She hasn't seen me for two whole
+days--and not a sign.... She's even again, maybe, thought fit to meet
+that Bub--Lucky fellow. Ouf, devil take it, what a fool I am!'
+
+Pyetushkov got up, paced up and down the room in silence, stood still,
+knitted his brows slightly and scratched his neck. 'However,' he said
+aloud, 'I'll go to see her. I must see what she's about there. I must
+make her feel ashamed. Most certainly ... I'll go. Onisim! my clothes.'
+
+'Well,' he mused as he dressed, 'we shall see what comes of it. She may,
+I dare say, be angry with me. And after all, a man keeps coming and
+coming, and all of a sudden, for no rhyme or reason, goes and gives up
+coming. Well, we shall see.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch went out of the house, and made his way to the baker's
+shop. He stopped at the little gate, he wanted to straighten himself out
+and set himself to rights.... Pyetushkov clutched at the folds of his
+coat with both hands, and almost pulled them out altogether....
+Convulsively he twisted his tightly compressed neck, fastened the top
+hook of his collar, drew a deep breath....
+
+'Why are you standing there?' Praskovia Ivanovna bawled to him from the
+little window. 'Come in.'
+
+Pyetushkov started, and went in. Praskovia Ivanovna met him in
+the doorway.
+
+'Why didn't you come to see us yesterday, my good sir? Was it, maybe,
+some ailment prevented you?'
+
+'Yes, I had something of a headache yesterday....'
+
+'Ah, you should have put cucumber on your temples, my good sir. It would
+have taken it away in a twinkling. Is your head aching now?'
+
+'No, it's not.'
+
+'Ah well, and thank Thee, O Lord, for it.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch went off into the back room. Vassilissa saw him.
+
+'Ah! good day, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'Good day, Vassilissa Ivanovna.'
+
+'Where have you put the tap, Ivan Afanasiitch?'
+
+'Tap? what tap?'
+
+'The wine-tap ... our tap. You must have taken it home with you. You are
+such a one ... Lord, forgive us....'
+
+Pyetushkov put on a dignified and chilly air.
+
+'I will direct my man to look. Seeing that I was not here yesterday,' he
+pronounced significantly....
+
+'Ah, why, to be sure, you weren't here yesterday.' Vassilissa squatted
+down on her heels, and began rummaging in the chest....
+
+'Aunt, hi! aunt!'
+
+'What sa-ay?'
+
+'Have you taken my neckerchief?'
+
+'What neckerchief?'
+
+'Why, the yellow one.'
+
+'The yellow one?'
+
+'Yes, the yellow, figured one.'
+
+'No, I've not taken it.'
+
+Pyetushkov bent down to Vassilissa.
+
+'Listen to me, Vassilissa; listen to what I am saying to you. It is not
+a matter of taps or of neckerchiefs just now; you can attend to such
+trifles another time.'
+
+Vassilissa did not budge from her position; she only lifted her head.
+
+'You just tell me, on your conscience, do you love me or not? That's
+what I want to know, once for all.'
+
+'Ah, what a one you are, Ivan Afanasiitch.... Well, then, of course.'
+
+'If you love me, how was it you didn't come to see me yesterday? Had you
+no time? Well, you might have sent to find out if I were ill, as I
+didn't turn up. But it's little you cared. I might die, I dare say, you
+wouldn't grieve.'
+
+'Ah, Ivan Afanasiitch, one can't be always thinking of one thing, one's
+got one's work to do.'
+
+'To be sure,' responded Pyetushkov; 'but all the same ... And it's
+improper to laugh at your elders.... It's not right. Moreover, it's as
+well in certain cases ... But where's my pipe?'
+
+'Here's your pipe.'
+
+Pyetushkov began smoking.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+Several days slipped by again, apparently rather tranquilly. But a storm
+was getting nearer. Pyetushkov suffered tortures, was jealous, never
+took his eyes off Vassilissa, kept an alarmed watch over her, annoyed
+her horribly. Behold, one evening, Vassilissa dressed herself with more
+care than usual, and, seizing a favourable instant, sallied off to make
+a visit somewhere. Night came on, she had not returned. Pyetushkov at
+sunset went home to his lodgings, and at eight o'clock in the morning
+ran to the baker's shop.... Vassilissa had not come in. With an
+inexpressible sinking at his heart, he waited for her right up to
+dinner-time.... They sat down to the table without her....
+
+'Whatever can have become of her?' Praskovia Ivanovna observed
+serenely....
+
+'You spoil her, you simply spoil her utterly!' Pyetushkov repeated,
+in despair.
+
+'Eh! my good sir, there's no looking after a girl!' responded Praskovia
+Ivanovna. 'Let her go her way! So long as she does her work.... Why
+shouldn't folks enjoy themselves? ...'
+
+A cold shudder ran over Pyetushkov. At last, towards evening, Vassilissa
+made her appearance. This was all he was waiting for. Majestically
+Pyetushkov rose from his seat, folded his arms, scowled menacingly....
+But Vassilissa looked him boldly in the face, laughed impudently, and
+before he could utter a single word she went quickly into her own room,
+and locked herself in. Ivan Afanasiitch opened his mouth, looked in
+amazement at Praskovia Ivanovna.... Praskovia Ivanovna cast down her
+eyes. Ivan Afanasiitch stood still a moment, groped after his cap, put
+it on askew, and went out without closing his mouth.
+
+He reached home, took up a leather cushion, and with it flung himself on
+the sofa, with his face to the wall. Onisim looked in out of the
+passage, went into the room, leaned his back against the door, took a
+pinch of snuff, and crossed his legs.
+
+'Are you unwell, Ivan Afanasiitch?' he asked Pyetushkov.
+
+Pyetushkov made no answer.
+
+'Shall I go for the doctor?' Onisim continued, after a brief pause.
+
+'I'm quite well.... Go away,' Ivan Afanasiitch articulated huskily.
+
+'Well? ... no, you're not well, Ivan Afanasiitch.... Is this what you
+call being well?'
+
+Pyetushkov did not speak.
+
+'Just look at yourself. You've grown so thin, that you're simply not
+like yourself. And what's it all about? It's enough to turn one's brain
+to think of it. And you a gentleman born, too!'
+
+Onisim paused. Pyetushkov did not stir.
+
+'Is that the way gentlemen go on? They'd amuse themselves a bit, to be
+sure ... why shouldn't they ... they'd amuse themselves, and then drop
+it.... They may well say, Fall in love with Old Nick, and you'll think
+him a beauty.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch merely writhed.
+
+'Well, it's really like this, Ivan Afanasiitch. If any one had said this
+and that of you, and your goings on, why, I would have said, "Get along
+with you, you fool, what do you take me for?" Do you suppose I'd have
+believed it? Why, as it is, I see it with my own eyes, and I can't
+believe it. Worse than this nothing can be. Has she put some spell over
+you or what? Why, what is there in her? If you come to consider, she's
+below contempt, really. She can't even speak as she ought.... She's
+simply a baggage! Worse, even!'
+
+'Go away,' Ivan Afanasiitch moaned into the cushion.
+
+'No, I'm not going away, Ivan Afanasiitch. Who's to speak, if I don't?
+Why, upon my word! Here, you 're breaking your heart now ... and over
+what? Eh, over what? tell me that!'
+
+'Oh, go away, Onisim,' Pyetushkov moaned again. Onisim, for propriety's
+sake, was silent for a little while.
+
+'And another thing,' he began again, 'she's no feeling of gratitude
+whatever. Any other girl wouldn't know how to do enough to please you;
+while she! ... she doesn't even think of you. Why, it's simply a
+disgrace. Why, the things people are saying about you, one cannot repeat
+them, they positively cry shame on me. If I could have known beforehand,
+I'd have....'
+
+'Oh, go away, do, devil!' shrieked Pyetushkov, not stirring from his
+place, however, nor raising his head.
+
+'Ivan Afanasiitch, for mercy's sake,' pursued the ruthless Onisim. 'I'm
+speaking for your good. Despise her, Ivan Afanasiitch; you simply break
+it off. Listen to me, or else I'll fetch a wise woman; she'll break the
+spell in no time. You'll laugh at it yourself, later on; you'll say to
+me, "Onisim, why, it's marvellous how such things happen sometimes!" You
+just consider yourself: girls like her, they're like dogs ... you've
+only to whistle to them....'
+
+Like one frantic, Pyetushkov jumped up from the sofa ... but, to the
+amazement of Onisim, who was already lifting both hands to the level of
+his cheeks, he sat down again, as though some one had cut away his legs
+from under him.... Tears were rolling down his pale face, a tuft of hair
+stood up straight on the top of his head, his eyes looked dimmed ... his
+drawn lips were quivering ... his head sank on his breast.
+
+Onisim looked at Pyetushkov and plumped heavily down on his knees.
+
+'Dear master, Ivan Afanasiitch,' he cried, 'your honour! Be pleased to
+punish me. I'm a fool. I've troubled you, Ivan Afanasiitch.... How did I
+dare! Be pleased to punish me, your honour.... It's not worth your while
+to weep over my silly words ... dear master. Ivan Afanasiitch....'
+
+But Pyetushkov did not even look at his servant; he turned away and
+buried himself in the corner of the sofa again.
+
+Onisim got up, went up to his master, stood over him, and twice he
+tugged at his own hair.
+
+'Wouldn't you like to undress, sir ... you should go to bed ... you
+should take some raspberry tea ... don't grieve, please your honour....
+It's only half a trouble, it's all nothing ... it'll be all right in the
+end,' he said to him every two minutes....
+
+But Pyetushkov did not get up from the sofa, and only twitched his
+shoulders now and then, and drew up his knees to his stomach....
+
+Onisim did not leave his side all night. Towards morning Pyetushkov fell
+asleep, but he did not sleep long. At seven o'clock he got up from the
+sofa, pale, dishevelled, and exhausted, and asked for tea.
+
+Onisim with amazing eagerness and speed brought the samovar.
+
+'Ivan Afanasiitch,' he began at last, in a timid voice, 'your honour is
+not angry with me?'
+
+'Why should I be angry with you, Onisim?' answered poor Pyetushkov. 'You
+were perfectly right yesterday, and I quite agreed with you in
+everything.'
+
+'I only spoke through my devotion to you, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+'I know that.'
+
+Pyetushkov was silent and hung his head.
+
+Onisim saw that things were in a bad way.
+
+'Ivan Afanasiitch,' he said suddenly.
+
+'Well?'
+
+'Would you like me to fetch Vassilissa here?'
+
+Pyetushkov flushed red.
+
+'No, Onisim, I don't wish it. ('Yes, indeed! as if she would come!' he
+thought to himself.) One must be firm. It is all nonsense. Yesterday,
+I ... It's a disgrace. You are right. One must cut it all short, once for
+all, as they say. Isn't that true?'
+
+'It's the gospel truth your honour speaks, Ivan Afanasiitch.'
+
+Pyetushkov sank again into reverie. He wondered at himself, he did not
+seem to know himself. He sat without stirring and stared at the floor.
+Thoughts whirled round within him, like smoke or fog, while his heart
+felt empty and heavy at once.
+
+'But what's the meaning of it, after all,' he thought sometimes, and
+again he grew calmer. 'It's nonsense, silliness!' he said aloud, and
+passed his hand over his face, shook himself, and his hand dropped again
+on his knee, his eyes again rested on the floor.
+
+Intently and mournfully Onisim kept watch on his master.
+
+Pyetushkov lifted his head.
+
+'Tell me, Onisim,' he began, 'is it true, are there really such
+witches' spells?'
+
+'There are, to be sure there are,' answered Onisim, as he thrust one
+foot forward. 'Does your honour know the non-commissioned officer,
+Krupovaty? ... His brother was ruined by witchcraft. He was bewitched
+to love an old woman, a cook, if your honour only can explain that! They
+gave him nothing but a morsel of rye bread, with a muttered spell, of
+course. And Krupovaty's brother simply lost his heart to the cook, he
+fairly ran after the cook, he positively adored her--couldn't keep his
+eyes off her. She might tell him to do anything, he'd obey her on the
+spot. She'd even make a joke of him before other people, before
+strangers. Well, she drove him into a decline, at last. And so it was
+Krupovaty's brother died. And you know, she was a cook, and an old woman
+too, very old. (Onisim took a pinch of snuff.) Confound the lot of them,
+these girls and women-folk!'
+
+'She doesn't care for me a bit, that's clear, at last; that's beyond all
+doubt, at last,' Pyetushkov muttered in an undertone, gesticulating with
+his head and hands as though he were explaining to a perfectly
+extraneous person some perfectly extraneous fact.
+
+'Yes,' Onisim resumed, 'there are women like that.'
+
+'There are,' listlessly repeated Pyetushkov, in a tone half questioning,
+half perplexed.
+
+Onisim looked intently at his master.
+
+'Ivan Afanasiitch,' he began, 'wouldn't you have a snack of something?'
+
+'Wouldn't I have a snack of something?' repeated Pyetushkov.
+
+'Or may be you'd like to have a pipe?'
+
+'To have a pipe?' repeated Pyetushkov.
+
+'So this is what it's coming to,' muttered Onisim. 'It's gone deep,
+it seems.'
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+The creak of boots resounded in the passage, and then there was heard
+the usual suppressed cough which announces the presence of a person
+of subordinate position. Onisim went out and promptly came back,
+accompanied by a diminutive soldier with a little, old woman's face,
+in a patched cloak yellow with age, and wearing neither breeches nor
+cravat. Pyetushkov was startled; while the soldier drew himself up,
+wished him good day, and handed him a large envelope bearing the
+government seal. In this envelope was a note from the major in
+command of the garrison: he called upon Pyetushkov to come to him
+without fail or delay.
+
+Pyetushkov turned the note over in his hands, and could not refrain from
+asking the messenger, did he know why the major desired his presence,
+though he was very well aware of the utter futility of his question.
+
+'We cannot tell!' the soldier cried, with great effort, yet hardly
+audibly, as though he were half asleep.
+
+'Isn't he summoning the other officers?' Pyetushkov pursued.
+
+'We cannot tell,' the soldier cried a second time, in just the
+same voice.
+
+'All right, you can go,' pronounced Pyetushkov.
+
+The soldier wheeled round to the left, scraping his foot as he did so,
+and slapping himself below the spine (this was considered smart in the
+twenties), withdrew.
+
+Pyetushkov exchanged glances with Onisim, who at once assumed a look of
+anxiety. Without a word Ivan Afanasiitch set off to the major's.
+
+The major was a man of sixty, corpulent and clumsily built, with a red
+and bloated face, a short neck, and a continual trembling in his
+fingers, resulting from excessive indulgence in strong drink. He
+belonged to the class of so-called 'bourbons,' that's to say, soldiers
+risen from the ranks; had learned to read at thirty, and spoke with
+difficulty, partly from shortness of breath, partly from inability to
+follow his own thought. His temperament exhibited all the varieties
+known to science: in the morning, before drinking, he was melancholy; in
+the middle of the day, choleric; and in the evening, phlegmatic, that is
+to say, he did nothing at that time but snore and grunt till he was put
+to bed. Ivan Afanasiitch appeared before him during the choleric period.
+He found him sitting on a sofa, in an open dressing-gown, with a pipe
+between his teeth. A fat, crop-eared cat had taken up her position
+beside him.
+
+'Aha! he's come!' growled the major, casting a sidelong glance out of
+his pewtery eyes upon Pyetushkov, and not stirring from his place. 'Sit
+down. Well, I'm going to give you a talking to. I've wanted to get hold
+of you this long while.'
+
+Pyetushkov sank into a chair.
+
+'For,' the major began, with an unexpected lurch of his whole body,
+'you're an officer, d'ye see, and so you've got to behave yourself
+according to rule. If you'd been a soldier, I'd have flogged you, and
+that's all about it, but, as 'tis, you're an officer. Did any one ever
+see the like of it? Disgracing yourself--is that a nice thing?'
+
+'Allow me to know to what these remarks may refer?' Pyetushkov was
+beginning....
+
+'I'll have no arguing! I dislike that beyond everything. I've said: I
+dislike it; and that's all about it! Ugh--why, your hooks are not in
+good form even;--what a disgrace! He sits, day in and day out, at the
+baker's shop; and he a gentleman born! There's a petticoat to be found
+there--and so there he sits. Let her go to the devil, the petticoat!
+Why, they do say he puts the bread in the oven. It's a stain on the
+uniform ... so it is!'
+
+'Allow me to submit,' articulated Pyetushkov with a cold chill at his
+heart, 'that all this, as far as I can make out, refers to my private
+life, so to say....'
+
+'No arguing with me, I tell you! Private life, he protests, too! If it
+had been a matter of the service I'd have sent you straight to the
+guard-room! Alley, marsheer! Because of the oath. Why, there was a whole
+birch copse, maybe, used upon my back, so I should think I know the
+service; every rule of discipline I'm very well up in. And I'd have you
+to understand, I say this just for the honour of the uniform. You're
+disgracing the uniform ... so you are. I say this like a father ... yes.
+Because all that's put in my charge. I've to answer for it. And you dare
+to argue too!' the major shrieked with sudden fury, and his face turned
+purple, and he foamed at the mouth, while the cat put its tail in the
+air and jumped down to the ground. 'Why, do you know ... why, do you
+know what I can do? ... I can do anything, anything, anything! Why, do
+you know whom you're talking to? Your superior officer gives you orders
+and you argue! Your superior officer ... your superior officer....'
+
+Here the major positively choked and spluttered, while poor Pyetushkov
+could only draw himself up and turn pale, sitting on the very edge of
+his chair.
+
+'I must have' ... the major continued, with an imperious wave of his
+trembling hand, 'I must have everything ... up to the mark! Conduct
+first-class! I'm not going to put up with any irregularities! You can
+make friends with whom you like, that makes no odds to me! But if you
+are a gentleman, why, act as such ... behave like one! No putting bread
+in the oven for me! No calling a draggletail old woman auntie! No
+disgracing the uniform! Silence! No arguing!'
+
+The major's voice broke. He took breath, and turning towards the door
+into the passage, bawled, 'Frolka, you scoundrel! The herrings!'
+
+Pyetushkov rose hurriedly and darted away, almost upsetting the
+page-boy, who ran to meet him, carrying some sliced herring and a stout
+decanter of spirits on an iron tray.
+
+'Silence! No arguing!' sounded after Pyetushkov the disjointed
+exclamations of his exasperated superior officer.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+A queer sensation overmastered Ivan Afanasiitch when, at last, he found
+himself in the street.
+
+'Why am I walking as it were in a dream?' he thought to himself. 'Am I
+out of my mind, or what? Why, it passes all belief, at last. Come, damn
+it, she's tired of me, come, and I've grown tired of her, come, and ...
+What is there out of the way in that?
+
+Pyetushkov frowned.
+
+'I must put an end to it, once for all,' he said almost aloud. 'I'll go
+and speak out decisively for the last time, so that it may never come
+up again.'
+
+Pyetushkov made his way with rapid step to the baker's shop. The nephew
+of the hired man, Luka, a little boy, friend and confidant of the goat
+that lived in the yard, darted swiftly to the little gate, directly he
+caught sight of Ivan Afanasiitch in the distance.
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna came out to meet Pyetushkov.
+
+'Is your niece at home?' asked Pyetushkov.
+
+'No, sir.'
+
+Pyetushkov was inwardly relieved at Vassilissa's absence.
+
+'I came to have a few words with you, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+'What about, my good sir?'
+
+'I'll tell you. You comprehend that after all ... that has passed ...
+after such, so to say, behaviour (Pyetushkov was a little confused) ...
+in a word ... But, pray, don't be angry with me, though.'
+
+'Certainly not, sir.'
+
+'On the contrary, enter into my position, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+'Certainly, sir.'
+
+'You're a reasonable woman, you'll understand of yourself, that ... that
+I can't go on coming to see you any more.'
+
+'Certainly, sir,' Praskovia Ivanovna repeated slowly.
+
+'I assure you I greatly regret it; I confess it is positively painful to
+me, genuinely painful ...'
+
+'You know best, sir,' Praskovia Ivanovna rejoined serenely. 'It's for
+you to decide, sir. And, oh, if you'll allow me, I'll give you your
+little account, sir.'
+
+Pyetushkov had not at all anticipated such a prompt acquiescence. He had
+not desired acquiescence at all; he had only wanted to frighten
+Praskovia Ivanovna, and above all Vassilissa. He felt wretched.
+
+'I know,' he began, 'this will not be disagreeable to Vassilissa; on the
+contrary, I believe she will be glad.'
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna got out her reckoning beads, and began rattling
+the counters.
+
+'On the other hand,' continued Pyetushkov, growing more and more
+agitated, 'if Vassilissa were, for instance, to give an explanation of
+her behaviour ... possibly.... Though, of course ... I don't know,
+possibly, I might perceive that after all there was no great matter for
+blame in it.'
+
+'There's thirty-seven roubles and forty kopecks in notes to your
+account, sir,' observed Praskovia Ivanovna. 'Here, would you be pleased
+to go through it?'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch made no reply.
+
+'Eighteen dinners at seventy kopecks each; twelve roubles sixty
+kopecks.'
+
+'And so we are to part, Praskovia Ivanovna.'
+
+'If so it must be, sir. Things do turn out so. Twelve samovars at ten
+kopecks each ...'
+
+'But you might just tell me, Praskovia Ivanovna, where it was Vassilissa
+went, and what it was she ...'
+
+'Oh, I never asked her, sir.... One rouble twenty kopecks in silver.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch sank into meditation.
+
+'Kvas and effervescing drinks,' pursued Praskovia Ivanovna, holding the
+counters apart on the frame not with her first, but her third finger,
+'half a rouble in silver. Sugar and rolls for tea, half a rouble. Four
+packets of tobacco bought by your orders, eighty kopecks in silver. To
+the tailor Kuprian Apollonov ...'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch suddenly raised his head, put out his hand and mixed up
+the counters.
+
+'What are you about, my good man?' cried Praskovia Ivanovna. 'Don't you
+trust me?'
+
+'Praskovia Ivanovna,' replied Pyetushkov, with a hurried smile, 'I've
+thought better of it. I was only, you know ... joking. We'd better
+remain friends and go on in the old way. What nonsense it is! How can we
+separate--tell me that, please?'
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna looked down and made him no reply.
+
+'Come, we've been talking nonsense, and there's an end of it,' pursued
+Ivan Afanasiitch, walking up and down the room, rubbing his hands,
+and, as it were, resuming his ancient rights. 'Amen! and now I'd
+better have a pipe.'
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna still did not move from her place....
+
+'I see you are angry with me,' said Pyetushkov.
+
+'I've offended you, perhaps. Well! well! forgive me generously.'
+
+'How could you offend me, my good sir? No offence about it.... Only,
+please, sir,' added Praskovia Ivanovna, bowing, 'be so good as not to go
+on coming to us.'
+
+'What?'
+
+'It's not for you, sir, to be friends with us, your honour. So, please,
+do us the favour ...'
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna went on bowing.
+
+'What ever for?' muttered the astounded Pyetushkov.
+
+'Oh, nothing, sir. For mercy's sake ...'
+
+'No, Praskovia Ivanovna, you must explain this! ...'
+
+'Vassilissa asks you. She says, "I thank you, thank you very much, and
+from my heart; only for the future, your honour, give us up."'
+
+Praskovia Ivanovna bowed down almost to Pyetushkov's feet.
+
+'Vassilissa, you say, begs me not to come?'
+
+'Just so, your honour. When your honour came in to-day, and said what
+you did, that you didn't wish, you said, to visit us any more, I felt
+relieved, sir, that I did; thinks I, Well, thank God, how nicely it's
+all come about! But for that, I should have had hard work to bring my
+tongue to say it.... Be so good, sir.'
+
+Pyetushkov turned red and pale almost at the same instant. Praskovia
+Ivanovna still went on bowing....
+
+'Very good,' Ivan Afanasiitch cried sharply. 'Good-bye.'
+
+He turned abruptly and put on his cap.
+
+'But the little bill, sir....'
+
+'Send it ... my orderly shall pay you.'
+
+Pyetushkov went with resolute steps out of the baker's shop, and did not
+even look round.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+A fortnight passed. At first Pyetushkov bore up in an extraordinary way.
+He went out, and visited his comrades, with the exception, of course, of
+Bublitsyn; but in spite of the exaggerated approbation of Onisim, he
+almost went out of his mind at last from wretchedness, jealousy, and
+ennui. Conversations with Onisim about Vassilissa were the only thing
+that afforded him some consolation. The conversation was always begun,
+'scratched up,' by Pyetushkov; Onisim responded unwillingly.
+
+'It's a strange thing, you know,' Ivan Afanasiitch would say, for
+instance, as he lay on the sofa, while Onisim stood in his usual
+attitude, leaning against the door, with his hands folded behind his
+back, 'when you come to think of it, what it was I saw in that girl. One
+would say that there was nothing unusual in her. It's true she has a
+good heart. That one can't deny her.'
+
+'Good heart, indeed!' Onisim would answer with displeasure.
+
+'Come, now, Onisim,' Pyetushkov went on, 'one must tell the truth. It's
+a thing of the past now; it's no matter to me now, but justice is
+justice. You don't know her. She's very good-hearted. Not a single
+beggar does she let pass by; she'll always give, if it's only a crust of
+bread. Oh! And she's of a cheerful temper, that one must allow, too.'
+
+'What a notion! I don't know where you see the cheerful temper!'
+
+'I tell you ... you don't know her. And she's not mercenary either ...
+that's another thing. She's not grasping, there's no doubt of it. Why I
+never gave her anything, as you know.'
+
+'That's why she's flung you over.'
+
+'No, that's not why!' responded Pyetushkov with a sigh.
+
+'Why, you're in love with her to this day,' Onisim retorted malignantly.
+'You'd be glad to go back there as before.'
+
+'That's nonsense you're talking. No, my lad, you don't know me either, I
+can see. Be sent away, and then go dancing attendance--no, thank you,
+I'd rather be excused. No, I tell you. You may believe me, it's all a
+thing of the past now.'
+
+'Pray God it be so!'
+
+'But why ever shouldn't I be fair to her, now after all? If now I say
+she's not good-looking--why, who'd believe me?'
+
+'A queer sort of good looks!'
+
+'Well, find me,--well, mention anybody better-looking ...'
+
+'Oh, you'd better go back to her, then! ...'
+
+'Stupid! Do you suppose that's why I say so? Understand me ...'
+
+'Oh! I understand you,' Onisim answered with a heavy sigh.
+
+Another week passed by. Pyetushkov had positively given up talking with
+his Onisim, and had given up going out. From morning till night he lay
+on the sofa, his hands behind his head. He began to get thin and pale,
+eat unwillingly and hurriedly, and did not smoke at all. Onisim could
+only shake his head, as he looked at him.
+
+'You're not well, Ivan Afanasiitch,' he said to him more than once.
+
+'No, I'm all right,' replied Pyetushkov.
+
+At last, one fine day (Onisim was not at home) Pyetushkov got up,
+rummaged in his chest of drawers, put on his cloak, though the sun was
+rather hot, went stealthily out into the street, and came back a quarter
+of an hour later.... He carried something under his cloak....
+
+Onisim was not at home. The whole morning he had been sitting in his
+little room, deliberating with himself, grumbling and swearing between
+his teeth, and, at last, he sallied off to Vassilissa. He found her in
+the shop. Praskovia Ivanovna was asleep on the stove, rhythmically and
+soothingly snoring.
+
+'Ah, how d'ye do, Onisim Sergeitch,' began Vassilissa, with a smile;
+'why haven't we seen anything of you for so long?'
+
+'Good day.'
+
+'Why are you so depressed? Would you like a cup of tea?'
+
+'It's not me we're talking about now,' rejoined Onisim, in a tone
+of vexation.
+
+'Why, what then?'
+
+'What! Don't you understand me? What! What have you done to my master,
+come, you tell me that.'
+
+'What I've done to him?'
+
+'What have you done to him? ... You go and look at him. Why, before we
+can look round, he'll be in a decline, or dying outright, maybe.'
+
+'It's not my fault, Onisim Sergeitch.'
+
+'Not your fault! God knows. Why, he's lost his heart to you. And you,
+God forgive you, treated him as if he were one of yourselves. Don't
+come, says you, I'm sick of you. Why, though he's not much to boast of,
+he's a gentleman anyway. He's a gentleman born, you know.... Do you
+realise that?'
+
+'But he's such a dull person, Onisim Sergeitch....'
+
+'Dull! So you must have merry fellows about you!'
+
+'And it's not so much that he's dull: he's so cross, so jealous.'
+
+'Ah, you, you're as haughty as a princess! He was in your way, I
+dare say!'
+
+'But you yourself, Onisim Sergeitch, if you remember, were put out with
+him about it; "Why is he such friends?" you said; "what's he always
+coming for?"'
+
+'Well, was I to be pleased with him for it, do you suppose?'
+
+'Well, then, why are you angry with me now? Here, he's given up coming.'
+
+Onisim positively stamped.
+
+'But what am I to do with him, if he's such a madman?' he added,
+dropping his voice.
+
+'But how am I in fault? What can I do?'
+
+'I'll tell you what: come with me to him.'
+
+'God forbid!'
+
+'Why won't you come?'
+
+'But why should I go to see him? Upon my word!'
+
+'Why? Why, because he says you've a good heart; let me see if you've a
+good heart.'
+
+'But what good can I do him?'
+
+'Oh, that's my business. You may be sure things are in a bad way, since
+I've come to you. It's certain I could think of nothing else to do.'
+
+Onisim paused for a while.
+
+'Well, come along, Vassilissa, please, come along.'
+
+'Oh, Onisim Sergeitch, I don't want to be friendly with him again ...'
+
+'Well, and you needn't--who's talking of it? You've only to say a
+couple of words; to say, Why does your honour grieve? ... give over....
+That's all.'
+
+'Really, Onisim Sergeitch ...'
+
+'Why, am I to go down on my knees to you, eh? All right--there, I'm on
+my knees ...'
+
+'But really ...'
+
+'Why, what a girl it is! Even that doesn't touch her! ...'
+
+Vassilissa at last consented, put a kerchief on her head, and went out
+with Onisim.
+
+'You wait here a little, in the passage,' he said to her, when they
+reached Pyetushkov's abode, 'and I'll go and let the master know ...'
+
+He went in to Ivan Afanasiitch. Pyetushkov was standing in the middle of
+the room, both hands in his pockets, his legs excessively wide apart; he
+was slightly swaying backwards and forwards. His face was hot, and his
+eyes were sparkling.
+
+'Hullo, Onisim,' he faltered amiably, articulating the consonants very
+indistinctly and thickly: 'hullo, my lad. Ah, my lad, when you weren't
+here ... he, he, he ...' Pyetushkov laughed and made a sudden duck
+forward with his nose. 'Yes, it's an accomplished fact, he, he, he....
+However,' he added, trying to assume a dignified air, 'I'm all right.'
+He tried to lift his foot, but almost fell over, and to preserve his
+dignity pronounced in a deep bass, 'Boy, bring my pipe!'
+
+Onisim gazed in astonishment at his master, glanced round.... In the
+window stood an empty dark-green bottle, with the inscription: 'Best
+Jamaica rum.'
+
+'I've been drinking, my lad, that's all,' Pyetushkov went on. 'I've
+been and taken it. I've been drinking, and that's all about it. And
+where've you been? Tell us ... don't be shy ... tell us. You're a good
+hand at a tale.'
+
+'Ivan Afanasiitch, mercy on us!' wailed Onisim.
+
+'To be sure. To be sure I will,' replied Pyetushkov with a vague wave of
+his hand. 'I'll have mercy on you, and forgive you. I forgive every one,
+I forgive you, and Vassilissa I forgive, and every one, every one. Yes,
+my lad, I've been drinking.... Dri-ink-ing, lad.... Who's that?' he
+cried suddenly, pointing to the door into the passage; 'who's there?'
+
+'Nobody's there,' Onisim answered hastily: 'who should be there? ...
+where are you going?'
+
+'No, no,' repeated Pyetushkov, breaking away from Onisim, 'let me go, I
+saw--don't you talk to me,--I saw there, let me go.... Vassilissa!' he
+shrieked all at once.
+
+Pyetushkov turned pale.
+
+'Well ... well, why don't you come in?' he said at last. 'Come in,
+Vassilissa, come in. I'm very glad to see you, Vassilissa.'
+
+Vassilissa glanced at Onisim and came into the room. Pyetushkov went
+nearer to her.... He heaved deep, irregular breaths. Onisim watched him.
+Vassilissa stole timid glances at both of them.
+
+'Sit down, Vassilissa,' Ivan Afanasiitch began again: 'thanks for
+coming. Excuse my being ... what shall I say? ... not quite fit to be
+seen. I couldn't foresee, couldn't really, you'll own that yourself.
+Come, sit down, see here, on the sofa ... So ... I'm expressing myself
+all right, I think.'
+
+Vassilissa sat down.
+
+'Well, good day to you,' Ivan Afanasiitch pursued. 'Come, how are you?
+what have you been doing?'
+
+'I'm well, thank God, Ivan Afanasiitch. And you?'
+
+'I? as you see! A ruined man. And ruined by whom? By you, Vassilissa.
+But I'm not angry with you. Only I'm a ruined man. You ask him. (He
+pointed to Onisim.) Don't you mind my being drunk. I'm drunk, certainly;
+only I'm a ruined man. That's why I'm drunk, because I'm a ruined man.'
+
+'Lord have mercy on us, Ivan Afanasiitch!'
+
+'A ruined man, Vassilissa, I tell you. You may believe me. I've never
+deceived you. Oh, and how's your aunt?'
+
+'Very well, Ivan Afanasiitch. Thank you.'
+
+Pyetushkov began swaying violently.
+
+'But you're not quite well to-day, Ivan Afanasiitch. You ought to
+lie down.'
+
+'No, I'm quite well, Vassilissa. No, don't say I'm not well; you'd
+better say I've fallen into evil ways, lost my morals. That's what would
+be just. I won't dispute that.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch gave a lurch backwards. Onisim ran forward and held his
+master up.
+
+'And who's to blame for it? I'll tell you, if you like, who's to blame.
+I'm to blame, in the first place. What ought I to have said? I ought to
+have said to you: Vassilissa, I love you. Good--well, will you marry me?
+Will you? It's true you're a working girl, granted; but that's all
+right. It's done sometimes. Why, there, I knew a fellow, he got married
+like that. Married a Finnish servant-girl. Took and married her. And
+you'd have been happy with me. I'm a good-natured chap, I am! Never you
+mind my being drunk, you look at my heart. There, you ask this ...
+fellow. So, you see, I turn out to be in fault. And now, of course, I'm
+a ruined man.'
+
+Ivan Afanasiitch was more and more in need of Onisim's support.
+
+'All the same, you did wrong, very wrong. I loved you, I respected
+you ... what's more, I'm ready to go to church with you this minute. Will
+you? You've only to say the word, and we'll start at once. Only you
+wounded me cruelly ... cruelly. You might at least have turned me away
+yourself--but through your aunt, through that fat female! Why, the only
+joy I had in life was you. I'm a homeless man, you know, a poor lonely
+creature! Who is there now to be kind to me? who says a kind word to me?
+I'm utterly alone. Stript bare as a crow. You ask this ...' Ivan
+Afanasiitch began to cry. 'Vassilissa, listen what I say to you,' he
+went on: 'let me come and see you as before. Don't be afraid.... I'll
+be ... quiet as a mouse. You can go and see whom you like, I'll--be all
+right: not a word, no protests, you know. Eh? do you agree? If you like,
+I'll go down on my knees.' (And Ivan Afanasiitch bent his knees, but
+Onisim held him up under the arms.) 'Let me go! It's not your business!
+It's a matter of the happiness of a whole life, don't you understand,
+and you hinder....'
+
+Vassilissa did not know what to say.
+
+'You won't ... Well, as you will! God be with you. In that case, good-bye!
+Good-bye, Vassilissa. I wish you all happiness and prosperity ... but
+I ... but I ...'
+
+And Pyetushkov sobbed violently. Onisim with all his might held him up
+from behind ... first his face worked, then he burst out crying. And
+Vassilissa cried too.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+Ten years later, one might have met in the streets of the little town of
+O---- a thinnish man with a reddish nose, dressed in an old green coat
+with a greasy plush collar. He occupied a small garret in the baker's
+shop, with which we are familiar. Praskovia Ivanovna was no longer of
+this world. The business was carried on by her niece, Vassilissa, and
+her husband, the red-haired, dim-eyed baker, Demofont. The man in the
+green coat had one weakness: he was over fond of drink. He was, however,
+always quiet when he was tipsy. The reader has probably recognised him
+as Ivan Afanasiitch.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Desperate Character and Other Stories, by
+Ivan Turgenev
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DESPERATE CHARACTER AND ***
+
+***** This file should be named 8871.txt or 8871.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/8/8/7/8871/
+
+Produced by Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+