Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories Part 33

"Da ... Dav ... a ... alive," got up impulsively and rushed away.

"Where are you going?" I exclaimed. But with a faint laugh she ran staggering across the waste-ground....

I, of course, followed her, while behind me a wail rose up in unison from the old man and the child.... Raissa darted straight to our house.

"Here's a day!" I thought, trying not to lose sight of the black dress that was fluttering before me. "Well!"

XXII

Pa.s.sing Va.s.sily, my aunt, and even Trankvillitatin, Raissa ran into the room where David was lying and threw herself on his neck. "Oh ...

oh ... Da ... vidushka," her voice rang out from under her loose curls, "oh!"

Flinging wide his arms David embraced her and nestled his head against her.

"Forgive me, my heart," I heard his voice saying.

And both seemed swooning with joy.

"But why did you go home, Raissa, why didn't you stay?" I said to her.... She still kept her head bowed. "You would have seen that he was saved...."

"Ah, I don't know! Ah, I don't know. Don't ask. I don't know, I don't remember how I got home. I only remember: I saw you in the air ...

something seemed to strike me ... and what happened afterwards ..."

"Seemed to strike you," repeated David, and we all three suddenly burst out laughing together. We were very happy.

"What may be the meaning of this, may I ask," we heard behind us a threatening voice, the voice of my father. He was standing in the doorway. "Will there ever be an end to these fooleries? Where are we living? Are we in the Russian Empire or the French Republic?"

He came into the room.

"Anyone who wants to be rebellious and immoral had better go to France! And how dare _you_ come here?" he said, turning to Raissa, who, quietly sitting up and turning to face him, was evidently taken aback but still smiled as before, a friendly and blissful smile.

"The daughter of my sworn enemy! How dare you? And hugging him, too!

Away with you at once, or ..."

"Uncle," David brought out, and he sat up in bed. "Don't insult Raissa. She is going away, only don't insult her."

"And who are you to teach me? I am not insulting her, I am not in ...

sul ... ting her! I am simply turning her out of the house. I have an account to settle with you, too, presently. You have made away with other people's property, have attempted to take your own life, have put me to expense."

"To what expense?" David interrupted.

"What expense? You have ruined your clothes. Do you count that as nothing? And I had to tip the men who brought you. You have given the whole family a fright and are you going to be unruly now? And if this young woman, regardless of shame and honour itself ..."

David made a dash as though to get out of bed.

"Don't insult her, I tell you."

"Hold your tongue."

"Don't dare ..."

"Hold your tongue!"

"Don't dare to insult my betrothed," cried David at the top of his voice, "my future wife!"

"Betrothed!" repeated my father, with round eyes. "Betrothed! Wife!

Ho, ho, ho! ..." ("Ha, ha, ha," my aunt echoed behind the door.) "Why, how old are you? He's been no time in the world, the milk is hardly dry on his lips, he is a mere babe and he is going to be married! But I ... but you ..."

"Let me go, let me go," whispered Raissa, and she made for the door.

She looked more dead than alive.

"I am not going to ask permission of you," David went on shouting, propping himself up with his fists on the edge of the bed, "but of my own father who is bound to be here one day soon; he is a law to me, but you are not; but as for my age, if Raissa and I are not old enough ... we will bide our time whatever you may say...."

"Aie, aie, Davidka, don't forget yourself," my father interrupted.

"Just look at yourself. You are not fit to be seen. You have lost all sense of decency."

David put his hand to the front of his s.h.i.+rt.

"Whatever you may say ..." he repeated.

"Oh, shut his mouth, Porfiry Petrovitch," piped my aunt from behind the door, "shut his mouth, and as for this hussy, this baggage ...

this ..."

But something extraordinary must have cut short my aunt's eloquence at that moment: her voice suddenly broke off and in its place we heard another, feeble and husky with old age....

"Brother," this weak voice articulated, "Christian soul."

XXIII

We all turned round.... In the same costume in which I had just seen him, thin, pitiful and wild looking, Latkin stood before us like an apparition.

"G.o.d!" he p.r.o.nounced in a sort of childish way, pointing upwards with a bent and trembling finger and gazing impotently at my father, "G.o.d has chastised me, but I have come for Va ... for Ra ... yes, yes, for Raissotchka.... What ... tchoo! what is there for me? Soon underground--and what do you call it? One little stick, another ...

cross-beam--that's what I ... want, but you, brother, diamond-merchant ... mind ... I'm a man, too!"

Raissa crossed the room without a word and taking his arm b.u.t.toned his vest.

"Let us go, Va.s.silyevna," he said; "they are all saints here, don't come to them and he lying there in his case"--he pointed to David--"is a saint, too, but you and I are sinners, brother. Come. Tchoo....

Forgive an old man with a pepper pot, gentleman! We have stolen together!" he shouted suddenly; "stolen together, stolen together!" he repeated, with evident satisfaction that his tongue had obeyed him at last.

Everyone in the room was silent. "And where is ... the ikon here," he asked, throwing back his head and turning up his eyes; "we must cleanse ourselves a bit."

He fell to praying to one of the corners, crossing himself fervently several times in succession, tapping first one shoulder and then the other with his fingers and hurriedly repeating:

"Have mercy me, oh, Lor ... me, oh, Lor ... me, oh, Lor ..." My father, who had not taken his eyes off Latkin, and had not uttered a word, suddenly started, stood beside him and began crossing himself, too. Then he turned to him, bowed very low so that he touched the floor with one hand, saying, "You forgive me, too, Martinyan Gavrilitch," kissed him on the shoulder. Latkin in response smacked his lips in the air and blinked: I doubt whether he quite knew what he was doing. Then my father turned to everyone in the room, to David, to Raissa and to me:

"Do as you like, act as you think best," he brought out in a soft and mournful voice, and he withdrew.

My aunt was running up to him, but he cried out sharply and gruffly to her. He was overwhelmed.