Father Sergius Part 8

'No, I don't want anything. G.o.d bless you, Pashenka! I am going now. If you pity me, don't tell anyone that you have seen me. For the love of G.o.d don't tell anyone. Thank you. I would bow to your feet but I know it would make you feel awkward. Thank you, and forgive me for Christ's sake!'

'Give me your blessing.'

'G.o.d bless you! Forgive me for Christ's sake!'

He rose, but she would not let him go until she had given him bread and b.u.t.ter and rusks. He took it all and went away.

It was dark, and before he had pa.s.sed the second house he was lost to sight. She only knew he was there because the dog at the priest's house was barking.

'So that is what my dream meant! Pashenka is what I ought to have been but failed to be. I lived for men on the pretext of living for G.o.d, while she lived for G.o.d imagining that she lives for men. Yes, one good deed--a cup of water given without thought of reward--is worth more than any benefit I imagined I was bestowing on people. But after all was there not some share of sincere desire to serve G.o.d?' he asked himself, and the answer was: 'Yes, there was, but it was all soiled and overgrown by desire for human praise. Yes, there is no G.o.d for the man who lives, as I did, for human praise. I will now seek Him!'

And he walked from village to village as he had done on his way to Pashenka, meeting and parting from other pilgrims, men and women, and asking for bread and a night's rest in Christ's name. Occasionally some angry housewife scolded him, or a drunken peasant reviled him, but for the most part he was given food and drink and even something to take with him. His n.o.ble bearing disposed some people in his favour, while others on the contrary seemed pleased at the sight of a gentleman who had come to beggary.

But his gentleness prevailed with everyone.

Often, finding a copy of the Gospels in a hut he would read it aloud, and when they heard him the people were always touched and surprised, as at something new yet familiar.

When he succeeded in helping people, either by advice, or by his knowledge of reading and writing, or by settling some quarrel, he did not wait to see their grat.i.tude but went away directly afterwards. And little by little G.o.d began to reveal Himself within him.

Once he was walking along with two old women and a soldier. They were stopped by a party consisting of a lady and gentleman in a gig and another lady and gentleman on horseback. The husband was on horseback with his daughter, while in the gig his wife was driving with a Frenchman, evidently a traveller.

The party stopped to let the Frenchman see the pilgrims who, in accord with a popular Russian superst.i.tion, tramped about from place to place instead of working.

They spoke French, thinking that the others would not understand them.

'Demandez-leur,' said the Frenchman, 's'ils sont bien sur de ce que leur pelerinage est agreable a Dieu.'

The question was asked, and one old woman replied:

'As G.o.d takes it. Our feet have reached the holy places, but our hearts may not have done so.'

They asked the soldier. He said that he was alone in the world and had nowhere else to go.

They asked Kasatsky who he was.

'A servant of G.o.d.'

'Qu'est-ce qu'il dit? Il ne repond pas.'

'Il dit qu'il est un serviteur de Dieu. Cela doit etre un fils de preetre. Il a de la race. Avez-vous de la pet.i.te monnaie?'

The Frenchman found some small change and gave twenty kopeks to each of the pilgrims.

'Mais dites-leur que ce n'est pas pour les cierges que je leur donne, mais pour qu'ils se regalent de the. Chay, chay pour vous, mon vieux!'

he said with a smile. And he patted Kasatsky on the shoulder with his gloved hand.

'May Christ bless you,' replied Kasatsky without replacing his cap and bowing his bald head.

He rejoiced particularly at this meeting, because he had disregarded the opinion of men and had done the simplest, easiest thing--humbly accepted twenty kopeks and given them to his comrade, a blind beggar. The less importance he attached to the opinion of men the more did he feel the presence of G.o.d within him.

For eight months Kasatsky tramped on in this manner, and in the ninth month he was arrested for not having a pa.s.sport. This happened at a night-refuge in a provincial town where he had pa.s.sed the night with some pilgrims. He was taken to the police-station, and when asked who he was and where was his pa.s.sport, he replied that he had no pa.s.sport and that he was a servant of G.o.d. He was cla.s.sed as a tramp, sentenced, and sent to live in Siberia.

In Siberia he has settled down as the hired man of a well-to-do peasant, in which capacity he works in the kitchen-garden, teaches children, and attends to the sick.