Virgin Soil Part 21

At these mournful words Pufka howled louder than ever, while Fimishka screwed up her eyes, opened her lips, drew in a deep breath, ready to retaliate, to speak.

G.o.d knows how it would have ended had not Paklin intervened.

"What is the matter?" he began, gesticulating with his hands and laughing loudly. "I wonder you are not ashamed of yourselves! Mr.

Markelov only meant it as a joke. He has such a solemn face that it sounded a little severe and you took him seriously! Calm yourself!

Efimia Pavlovna, darling, we are just going, won't you tell us our fortunes at cards? You are such a good hand at it. Snandulia, do get the cards, please!"

Fimishka glanced at her husband, who seemed completely rea.s.sured, so she too quieted down.

"I have quite forgotten how to tell fortunes, my dear. It is such a long time since I held the cards in my hand."

But quite of her own accord she took an extraordinary, ancient pack of cards out of Snandalia's hand.

"Whose fortune shall I tell?"

"Why everybody's, of course!" Paklin exclaimed. "What a dear old thing......... You can do what you like with her," he thought. "Tell us all our fortunes, granny dear," he said aloud. "Tell us our fates, our characters, our futures, everything!"

She began shuffling the cards, but threw them down suddenly.

"I don't need cards!" she exclaimed. "I know all your characters without that, and as the character, so is the fate. This one," she said, pointing to Solomin, "is a cool, steady sort of man. That one," she said, pointing threateningly at Markelov, "is a fiery, disastrous man."

(Pufka put her tongue out at him.) "And as for you," she looked at Paklin, "there is no need to tell you--you know quite well that you're nothing but a giddy goose! And that one--"

She pointed to Nejdanov, but hesitated.

"Well?" he asked; "do please tell me what sort of a man I am."

"What sort of a man are you," Fimishka repeated slowly. "You are pitiable--that is all!"

"Pitiable! But why?"

"Just so. I pity you--that is all I can say."

"But why do you pity me?"

"Because my eyes tell me so. Do you think I am a fool? I am cleverer than you, in spite of your red hair. I pity you--that is all!"

There was a brief silence--they all looked at one another, but did not utter a word.

"Well, goodbye, dear friends," Paklin exclaimed. "We must have bored you to death with our long visit. It is time for these gentlemen to be going, and I am going with them. Goodbye, thanks for your kindness."

"Goodbye, goodbye, come again. Don't be on ceremony," Fomishka and Fimishka exclaimed together. Then Fomishka suddenly drawled out:

"Many, many, many years of life. Many--"

"Many, many," Kalliopitch chimed in quite unexpectedly, when opening the door for the young men to pa.s.s out.

The whole four suddenly found themselves in the street before the squat little house, while Pufka's voice was heard from within:

"You fools!" she cried. "You fools!"

Paklin laughed aloud, but no one responded. Markelov looked at each in turn, as though he expected to hear some expression of indignation.

Solomin alone smiled his habitual smile.

XX

"WELL," Paklin was the first to begin, "we have been to the eighteenth century, now let us fly to the twentieth! Golushkin is such a go-ahead man that one can hardly count him as belonging to the nineteenth."

"Why, do you know him?"

"What a question! Did you know my poll-parrots?"

"No, but you introduced us."

"Well, then, introduce me. I don't suppose you have any secrets to talk over, and Golushkin is a hospitable man. You will see; he will be delighted to see a new face. We are not very formal here in S."

"Yes," Markelov muttered, "I have certainly noticed an absence of formality about the people here."

Paklin shook his head.

"I suppose that was a hit for me... I can't help it. I deserve it, no doubt. But may I suggest, my new friend, that you throw off those sad, oppressive thoughts, no doubt due to your bilious temperament... and chiefly--"

"And you sir, my new friend," Markelov interrupted him angrily, "allow me to tell you, by way of a warning, that I have never in my life been given to joking, least of all today! And what do you know about my temperament, I should like to know? It strikes me that it is not so very long since we first set eyes on one another."

"There, there, don't get angry and don't swear. I believe you without that," Paklin exclaimed. "Oh you," he said, turning to Solomin, "you, whom the wise Fimishka called a cool sort of man, and there certainly is something restful about you--do you think I had the slightest intention of saying anything unpleasant to anyone or of joking out of place?

I only suggested going with you to Golushkin's. Besides, I'm such a harmless person; it's not my fault that Mr. Markelov has a bilious complexion."

Solomin first shrugged one shoulder, then the other. It was a habit of his when he did not quite know what to say.

"I don't think," he said at last, "that you could offend anyone, Mr.

Paklin, or that you wished to--and why should you not come with us to Mr. Golushkin? We shall, no doubt, spend our time there just as pleasantly as we did at your kinsman's--and just as profitably most likely."

Paklin threatened him with his finger.

"Oh! I see, you can be wicked too if you like! However, you are also coming to Golushkin's, are you not?"

"Of course I am. I have wasted the day as it is."

"Well then, en avant, marchons! To the twentieth century! To the twentieth century! Nejdanov, you are an advanced man, lead the way!"

"Very well, come along; only don't keep on repeating the same jokes lest we should think you are running short."

"I have still enough left for you, my dear friends," Paklin said gaily and went on ahead, not by leaping, but by limping, as he said.

"What an amusing man!" Solomin remarked as he was walking along arm-in-arm with Nejdanov; "if we should ever be sent to Siberia, which Heaven forbid, there will be someone to entertain us at any rate."