Virgin Soil Part 27

"Open your eyes!"

"Is it Mariana, eh?" (The second "eh" was p.r.o.nounced more through the nose than the first one.)

"Open your eyes, I tell you!"

Sipiagin frowned.

"We must talk about this later on. I should just like to say now that this Solomin may feel rather uncomfortable... You see, he is not used to society. We must be nice to him so as to make him feel at his ease. Of course, I don't mean this for you, you're such a dear, that I think you could fascinate anyone if you chose. J'en sais quelque chose, madame! I mean this for the others, if only for--"

He pointed to a fas.h.i.+onable grey hat lying on a shelf. It belonged to Mr. Kollomietzev, who had been in Arjanov since the morning.

"Il est tres ca.s.sant you know. He has far too great a contempt for the people for my liking. And he has been so frightfully quarrelsome and irritable of late. Is his little affair there not getting on well?"

Sipiagin nodded his head in some indefinite direction, but his wife understood him.

"Open your eyes, I tell you again!"

Sipiagin stood up.

"Eh?" (This "eh" was p.r.o.nounced in a quite different tone, much lower.) "Is that how the land lies? They had better take care I don't open them too wide!"

"That is your own affair, my dear. But as for that new young man of yours, you may be quite easy about him. I will see that everything is all right. Every precaution will be taken."

It turned out that no precautions were necessary, however. Solomin was not in the least alarmed or embarra.s.sed.

As soon as he was announced Sipiagin jumped up, exclaiming in a voice loud enough to be heard in the hall, "Show him in, of course show him in!" He then went up to the drawing-room door and stood waiting. No sooner had Solomin crossed the threshold, almost knocking against Sipiagin, when the latter extended both his hands, saying with an amiable smile and a friendly shake of the head, "How very nice of you to come.... I can hardly thank you enough." Then he led him up to Valentina Mihailovna.

"Allow me to introduce you to my wife," he said, gently pressing his hand against Solomin's back, pus.h.i.+ng him towards her as it were. "My dear, here is our best local engineer and manufacturer, Va.s.sily...

Fedosaitch Solomin."

Madame Sipiagina stood up, raised her wonderful eyelashes, smiled sweetly as to an acquaintance, extended her hand with the palm upwards, her elbow pressed against her waist, her head bent a little to the right, in the att.i.tude of a suppliant. Solomin let the husband and wife go through their little comedy, shook hands with them both, and sat down at the first invitation to do so. Sipiagin began to fuss about him, asking if he would like anything, but Solomin a.s.sured him that he wanted nothing and was not in the least bit tired from the journey.

"Then may we go to the factory?" Sipiagin asked, a little shame-faced, not daring to believe in so much condescension on the part of his guest.

"As soon as you like, I'm quite ready," Solomin replied. "How awfully good of you! Shall we drive or would you like to walk?"

"Is it a long way?"

"About half a mile."

"It's hardly worthwhile bringing out the carriage."

"Very well. Ivan! my hat and stick! Make haste! And you'll see about some dinner, little one, won't you? My hat, quick!"

Sipiagin was far more excited than his visitor, and calling out once more, "Why don't they give me my hat," he, the stately dignitary, rushed out like a frolicsome schoolboy. While her husband was talking to Solomin, Valentina Mihailovna looked at him stealthily, trying to make out this new "young man." He was sitting in an armchair, quite at his ease, his bare hands laid on his knee (he had not put on the gloves after all), calmly, although not without a certain amount of curiosity, looking around at the furniture and pictures. "I don't understand,"

she thought, "he's a plebeian--quite a plebeian--and yet behaves so naturally!" Solomin did indeed carry himself naturally, not with any view to effect, as much as to say "Look what a splendid fellow I am!"

but as a man whose thoughts and feelings are simple, direct, and strong at the same time. Madame Sipiagina wanted to say something to him, but was surprised to find that she did not quite know how to begin.

"Heavens!" she thought. "This mechanic is making me quite nervous!"

"My husband must be very grateful to you," she remarked at last. "It was so good of you to sacrifice a few hours of your valuable time--"

"My time is not so very valuable, madame," he observed. "Besides, I've not come here for long."

"Voila ou l'ours a montre sa patte," she thought in French, but at this moment her husband appeared in the doorway, his hat on his head and a walking stick in his hand.

"Are you ready, Va.s.sily Fedosaitch?" he asked in a free and easy tone, half turned towards him.

Solomin rose, bowed to Valentina Mihailovna, and walked out behind Sipiagin.

"This way, this way, Va.s.sily Fedosaitch!" Sipiagin called out, just as if they were groping their way through a tangled forest and Solomin needed a guide. "This way! Do be careful, there are some steps here, Va.s.sily Fedosaitch!"

"If you want to call me by my father's Christian name," Solomin said slowly, "then it isn't Fedosaitch, but Fedot.i.tch."

Sipiagin was taken aback and looked at him over his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Va.s.sily Fedot.i.tch."

"Please don't mention it."

As soon as they got outside they ran against Kollomietzev.

"Where are you off to?" the latter asked, looking askance at Solomin.

"Are you going to the factory? C'est la l'individu en question?"

Sipiagin opened his eyes wide and shook his head slightly by way of warning.

"Yes, we're going to the factory. I want to show all my sins and transgressions to this gentleman, who is an engineer. Allow me to introduce you. Mr. Kollomietzev, a neighbouring landowner, Mr. Solomin."

Kollomietzev nodded his head twice in an off-hand manner without looking at Solomin, but the latter looked at him and there was a sinister gleam in his half-closed eyes.

"May I come with you?" Kollomietzev asked. "You know I'm always ready to learn."

"Certainly, if you like."

They went out of the courtyard into the road and had scarcely taken twenty steps when they ran across a priest in a woven ca.s.sock, who was wending his way homeward. Kollomietzev left his two companions and, going up to him with long, firm strides, asked for his blessing and gave him a sounding smack on his moist, red hand, much to the discomfiture of the priest, who did not in the least expect this sort of outburst.

He then turned to Solomin and gave him a defiant look. He had evidently heard something about him and wanted to show off and get some fun out of this learned scoundrel.

"C'est une manifestation, mon cher?" Sipiagin muttered through his teeth.

Kollomietzev giggled.

"Oui, mon cher, une manifestation necessaire par temps qui court!"

They got to the factory and were met by a Little Russian with an enormous beard and false teeth, who had taken the place of the former manager, a German, whom Sipiagin had dismissed. This man was there in a temporary capacity and understood absolutely nothing; he merely kept on saying "Just so... yes... that's it," and sighing all the time. They began inspecting the place. Several of the workmen knew Solomin by sight and bowed to him. He even called out to one of them, "Hallo, Gregory!

You here?" Solomin was soon convinced that the place was going badly.

Money was simply thrown away for no reason whatever. The machines turned out to be of a very poor kind; many of them were quite superfluous and a great many necessary ones were lacking. Sipiagin kept looking into Solomin's face, trying to guess his opinion, asked a few timid questions, wanted to know if he was at any rate satisfied with the order of the place.

"Oh, the order is all right," Solomin replied, "but I doubt if you can get anything out of it."