The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories Part 21

"See here, brother,"--said he:--"I 'll take none of thy impudence."

And he began to explain to him by signs: "The mistress insists upon having thy dog: hand it over instantly, or 't will be the worse for thee."

Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a sign with his hand at his own neck, as though he were drawing up a noose, and cast an inquiring glance at the major-domo.

"Yes, yes,"--replied the latter, nodding his head;--"yes, she insists."

Gerasim dropped his eyes, then suddenly shook himself, again pointed at Mumu, who all this time had been standing by his side, innocently wagging her tail and moving her ears to and fro with curiosity, repeated the sign of strangling over his own neck, and significantly smote himself on the breast, as though declaring that he would take it upon himself to annihilate Mumu.

"But thou wilt deceive,"--waved Gavrila to him in reply.

Gerasim looked at him, laughed disdainfully, smote himself again on the breast, and slammed the door.

All present exchanged glances in silence.

"Well, and what 's the meaning of this?"--began Gavrila.--"He has locked himself in."

"Let him alone, Gavrila Andreitch,"--said Stepan;--"he 'll do it, if he has promised. That 's the sort of fellow he is.... If he once promises a thing, it 's safe. He is n't like us folks in that respect. What is true is true. Yes."

"Yes,"--repeated all, and wagged their heads.--"That 's so. Yes."

Uncle Tail opened the window and said "Yes," also.

"Well, we shall see, I suppose,"--returned Gavrila;--"but the guard is not to be removed, notwithstanding. Hey, there, Eroshka!"--he added, addressing a poor man in a yellow nankeen kazak coat, who was reckoned as the gardener:--"what hast thou to do? Take a stick and sit here, and if anything happens, run for me on the instant."

Eroshka took a stick and sat down on the last step of the staircase. The crowd dispersed, with the exception of a few curious bodies and the small urchins, while Gavrila returned home, and through Liuboff Liubimovna gave orders that the mistress should be informed that everything had been done, and that he himself, in order to make quite sure, had sent the postilion for a policeman. The mistress tied a knot in her handkerchief, poured _eau de cologne_ on it, sniffed at it, wiped her temples, sipped her tea and, being still under the influence of the laurel drops, fell asleep again.

An hour after all this commotion, the door of the tiny den opened and Gerasim made his appearance. He wore a new holiday kaftan; he was leading Mumu by a string. Eroshka drew aside and let him pa.s.s. Gerasim directed his way toward the gate. All the small boys who were in the courtyard followed him with their eyes in silence. He did not even turn round; he did not put on his cap until he reached the street. Gavrila despatched after him that same Eroshka, in the capacity of observer.

Eroshka, perceiving from afar that he had entered an eating-house in company with his dog, awaited his reappearance.

In the eating-house they knew Gerasim and understood his signs. He ordered cabbage-soup with meat, and seated himself, with his arms resting on the table. Mumu stood beside his chair, calmly gazing at him with her intelligent eyes. Her coat was fairly s.h.i.+ning with gloss: it was evident that she had recently been brushed. They brought the cabbage-soup to Gerasim. He crumbled up bread in it, cut the meat up into small pieces, and set the plate on the floor. Mumu began to eat with her customary politeness, hardly touching her muzzle to the food; Gerasim stared long at her; two heavy tears rolled suddenly from his eyes; one fell on the dog's sloping forehead, the other into the soup.

He covered his face with his hand. Mumu ate half a plateful and retired, licking her chops. Gerasim rose, paid for the soup, and set out, accompanied by the somewhat astounded glance of the waiter. Eroshka, on catching sight of Gerasim, sprang round the corner, and allowing him to pa.s.s, again set out on his track.

Gerasim walked on without haste, and did not release Mumu from the cord.

On reaching the corner of the street he halted, as though in thought, and suddenly directed his course, with swift strides, straight toward the Crimean Ford. On the way he entered the yard of a house, to which a wing was being built, and brought thence two bricks under his arm. From the Crimean Ford he turned along the bank, advanced to a certain spot, where stood two boats with oars, tied to stakes (he had already noted them previously), and sprang into one of them, in company with Mumu. A lame little old man emerged from behind a hut placed in one corner of a vegetable-garden, and shouted at him. But Gerasim only nodded his head, and set to rowing so vigorously, although against the current, that in an instant he had darted off to a distance of a hundred fathoms. The old man stood and stood, scratched his back, first with the left hand then with the right, and returned, limping, to his hut.

But Gerasim rowed on and on. And now he had left Moscow behind him. Now, already meadows, fields, groves stretched along the sh.o.r.es, and peasant cottages made their appearance. It smacked of the country. He flung aside the oars, bent his head down to Mumu, who was sitting in front of him on a dry thwart,--the bottom was inundated with water,--and remained motionless, with his mighty hands crossed on her back, while the boat drifted a little backward with the current toward the town. At last Gerasim straightened up hastily, with a sort of painful wrath on his face, wound the rope around the bricks he had taken, arranged a noose, put it on Mumu's neck, lifted her over the river, for the last time gazed at her.... She gazed back at him confidingly and without alarm, waving her little tail slightly. He turned away, shut his eyes, and opened his hands... Gerasim heard nothing, neither the swift whine of the falling Mumu, nor the loud splash of the water; for him the noisiest day was silent and speechless, as not even the quietest night is to us, and when he opened his eyes again, the little waves were hurrying down the river as before; as before they were plas.h.i.+ng about the sides of the boat, and only far astern toward the sh.o.r.e certain broad circles were spreading.

Eroshka, as soon as Gerasim vanished from his sight, returned home and reported what he had seen.

"Well, yes,"--remarked Stepan;--"he will drown her. You may be easy about that. If he has once promised a thing ...."

Throughout the day no one saw Gerasim. He did not dine at home. Evening came; all, except him, a.s.sembled for supper.

"What a queer fellow that Gerasim is!"--squealed a fat laundress. "The idea of making such a fuss over a dog!... Really!"

"But Gerasim has been here,"--suddenly exclaimed Stepan, as he scooped up his buckwheat groats with his spoon.

"What? When?"

"Why, a couple of hours ago. Certainly he has! I met him at the gate; he has gone away from here again; he went out of the courtyard. I wanted to ask him about his dog, but he evidently was out of sorts. Well, and he jostled me; it must have been done by accident, he only wanted to get me out of the way; as much as to say: 'Don't bother me!'--but he gave me such a dig in the spine, that o, o, o!"--And Stepan shrugged his shoulders with an involuntary grimace, and rubbed the nape of his neck.--"Yes,"--he added;--"his hand is an apt one, there 's no denying that!"

All laughed at Stepan and, after supper, dispersed to their beds.

And in the meantime, on that same night, on the T*** highway, a giant was marching onward diligently and unremittingly, with a sack on his shoulders, and a long staff in his hands. It was Gerasim. He was hurrying on, without looking behind him, hurrying home, to his own house in the country, to his native place. After drowning poor Mumu, he had hastened to his little den, had briskly put together a few articles of clothing in an old horse-cloth, had tied it up with a knot, slung it across his shoulder, and taken himself off. He had noted well the road when he had been brought to Moscow; the village from which his mistress had taken him lay at most five-and-twenty versts from the highway. He walked along it with a certain invincible hardihood, with despairing, yet joyful firmness. He strode onward, his breast expanded broadly; his eyes were bent eagerly straight ahead. He hastened onward as though his aged mother were waiting for him in his native place, as though she had summoned him to her after long wanderings in foreign lands, among strange peoples... The summer night, which had only just descended, was warm and tranquil; on the one hand, in the direction where the sun had gone down, the rim of the sky was still white, with a crimson gleam from the last reflection of the vanished day,--on the other hand, the blue-grey gloom was rising. Night had come thence. Hundreds of quail were whistling all around, corn-crakes were vying with each other in their calls.... Gerasim could not hear them, he could not hear even the delicate nocturnal rustling of the trees past which he was bearing his mighty feet, but he discerned the familiar scent of the ripening rye, which was exhaled from the dark fields; he felt the breeze wafting to meet him,--the breeze from his native place,--beating on his face, playing with his hair and beard; he beheld in front of him the road homeward, gleaming white, straight as an arrow; he beheld in the sky innumerable stars, which illuminated his path, and like a lion he stepped out powerfully and alertly, so that when the rising sun lighted up with its moistly-crimson rays the gallant fellow who had just been driven to extremities, three-and-thirty versts already lay between him and Moscow....

At the end of two days he was at home in his own little cottage, to the great amazement of the soldier's wife who had removed thither. After praying before the holy pictures, he immediately betook himself to the overseer. The overseer was astounded at first; but the haying was only just beginning. Gerasim, being a capital workman, immediately had a scythe put into his hand--and he went off to mow as of yore, to mow in such fas.h.i.+on that the peasants simply sweated through and through as they watched his swings and strokes....

But in Moscow, on the day following Gerasim's flight, they discovered it. They went into his room, ransacked it, and told Gavrila. The latter came, made an inspection, shrugged his shoulders, and decided that the dumb man had either run away or drowned himself along with his stupid dog. The police were informed, and the matter was reported to the mistress. The mistress flew into a rage, fell to weeping, ordered him to be hunted up at any cost, a.s.serted that she had never ordered the dog to be made away with, and, at last, so berated Gavrila, that the latter did nothing all day but shake his head and add: "Well!" until Uncle Tail brought him to his senses by saying to him: "We-ell!" At last news came from the village of Gerasim's arrival there. The mistress calmed down somewhat; at first she was minded to issue an order demanding his immediate return to Moscow, but afterward she announced that she wanted nothing to do with so ungrateful a man. Moreover, she died herself soon after, and her heirs had other things to think about besides Gerasim; and they dismissed the rest of their mother's serfs on quit-rent.

And Gerasim is living yet, poor, wretched fellow, in his lonely hut; he is healthy and powerful as of yore, and, as of yore, he does the work of four men, and, as of yore, he is staid and dignified. But the neighbours have noticed that ever since his return from Moscow he has entirely ceased to have anything to do with women, he does not even look at them, and he keeps not a single dog on his premises.--"However,"--say the peasants,--"'t is lucky for him that he needs no woman; and as for a dog--what should he do with a dog? you could n't drag a thief into his yard with a noose!" Such is the fame of the dumb man's heroic strength.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] June 29 (O. S.)--July 13 (N. S.).--TRANSLATOR.

[25] Formerly all Moscow houses were obliged to get their water in barrels on wheels from the river or from public fountains. Birch-wood is still used for cooking and heating.--TRANSLATOR.

[26] A pud is about thirty-six pounds, English.--TRANSLATOR.

[27] A peculiarly shaped and delicious wheaten roll, which is made particularly well in Moscow.--TRANSLATOR.

[28] St. Petersburg.--TRANSLATOR.

[29] Minin, the burgher of Nizhni Novgorod, and Prince Pozharsky, who led the Russians against the invading Poles in 1612, and expelled them from Russia. Their expulsion was followed by the election to the throne of the first Romanoff Tzar, Mikhail Feodorovitch.--TRANSLATOR.

[30] These kisses are bestowed on the cheeks, alternately.--TRANSLATOR.

[31] Amy or Charity.--TRANSLATOR.

THE INN

(1852)

On the great B*** highway, almost equidistant from the two county towns through which it pa.s.ses, there was still standing, not long since, a s.p.a.cious inn, very well known to drivers of troka-teams, to freight-sledge peasants, to merchants' clerks, to traders of the petty-burgher cla.s.s, and, in general, to all the numerous and varied travellers, who at all seasons of the year roll along our roads.

Everybody used to drop in at this inn; except only some landed proprietor's carriage, drawn by six home-bred horses, would glide solemnly past, which, however, did not prevent the coachman and the lackey on the foot-board from looking with particular feeling and attention at the porch but too familiar to them; or some very poor fellow, in a rickety cart, with fifteen kopeks in the purse stuffed into his bosom, on coming to the fine inn, would urge on his weak nag, hastening to his night's lodging in the suburb on the great highway, to the house of the peasant-host, where you will find nothing except hay and bread, but, on the other hand, will not be obliged to pay a kopek too much.

In addition to its advantageous situation, the inn of which we have just spoken possessed many attractions: capital water in two deep wells with creaking wheels and iron buckets on chains; a s.p.a.cious stable-yard with plenty of board sheds on stout pillars; an abundant supply of good oats in the cellar; a warm house, with a huge Russian stove, into which, as upon the shoulders of an epic hero, long logs were thrust; two fairly-clean little chambers with reddish-lilac paper on the walls somewhat tattered at the bottom, with a painted wooden divan, chairs to match, and two pots of geranium in the windows, which, however, were never washed and were dim with the dust of many years. This inn offered other comforts:--the blacksmith's shop was near at hand, and the mill was situated almost alongside of it; in conclusion, good food was to be had in it, thanks to the fat and rosy-cheeked peasant-woman who was the cook, and who prepared the viands in a savoury manner and with plenty of fat, and was not stingy of her stores; the nearest dram-shop was only half a verst distant; the landlord kept snuff, which, although mixed with ashes, was extremely heady, and tickled the nose agreeably: in a word, there were many reasons why guests of every sort were not lacking in that inn. Travellers had taken a fancy to it--that is the princ.i.p.al thing; without that, as is well known, no business will thrive; and it was liked most of all because, as people said in the countryside, the landlord himself was very lucky and succeeded in all his enterprises, although he little deserved his luck, and it was evident that if a man is destined to be lucky he will be.

This landlord was a petty burgher, Naum Ivanoff by name. He was of medium stature, thick-set, stooping and broad-shouldered; he had a large, round head, hair which was wavy and already grizzled, although in appearance he was not over forty years of age; a plump and rosy face, a low, but white and smooth brow, and small, bright blue eyes, with which he gazed forth very strangely--askance, and, at the same time, insolently, which is a combination rarely encountered. He always held his head in a drooping position, and turned it with difficulty, perhaps because his neck was very short; he walked briskly and did not swing his arms, but opened his clenched fists as he walked. When he smiled,--and he smiled frequently, but without laughter, as though to himself,--his large lips moved apart in an unpleasant way, and displayed a row of compact and dazzling teeth. He spoke abruptly, and with a certain surly sound in his voice. He shaved off his beard, but did not adopt the foreign dress. His garments consisted of a long, extremely-threadbare kaftan, ample bag-trousers, and shoes worn on the bare feet. He often absented himself from home on business,--and he had a great deal of business: he was a jobber of horses, he hired land, he raised vegetables for the market, he purchased gardens, and in general occupied himself with various commercial speculations,--but his absences never lasted long; like the hawk, to whom in particular, especially as to the expression of his eyes, he bore a strong resemblance, he kept returning to his nest. He understood how to keep that nest in order; he kept track of everything, he heard everything, and gave orders about everything; he dealt out, he served out, and calculated everything himself, and while he did not reduce his price a kopek to any one, yet he did not overcharge.

The lodgers did not enter into conversation with him, and he himself was not fond of wasting words without cause. "I need your money, and you need my victuals," he was wont to explain, as though he were tearing off each separate word: "you and I have n't got to stand G.o.dparents to a child and become cronies; the traveller has eaten, I have fed him his fill, let him not outstay his welcome. And if he is sleepy, then let him sleep, not chatter." He kept st.u.r.dy and healthy, but tame and submissive labourers; they were extremely afraid of him. He never took a drop of intoxicating liquor into his mouth, but he gave each of them ten kopeks for vodka on festival days; on other days they did not dare to drink.

People like Naum speedily grow rich;.... but Naum Ivanoff had not reached the brilliant condition in which he found himself--and he was reckoned to be worth forty or fifty thousand rubles--by straightforward ways....