Sanine Part 7

The convent, situated on a hill at no great distance from the town, was a favourite place for excursions. It was near the river, and the road leading to it was good.

Devoted as she was to every kind of amus.e.m.e.nt such as bathing, rowing and walks in the woods, Lialia welcomed the idea with enthusiasm.

"Yes, of course! Of course! But when is it to be?"

"Well, why not to-morrow?" said Novikoff.

"Who else shall we ask?" asked Riasantzeff, equally pleased at the prospect of a day's outing. In the woods he would be able to hold Lialia in his arms, to kiss her, and feel that the sweet body he coveted was near.

"Let us see. We are six. Suppose we ask Schafroff?"

"Who is he?" inquired Yourii.

"Oh! he's a young student."

"Very well; and Ludmilla Nicolaievna will invite Karsavina and Olga Ivanovna."

"Who are they?" asked Yourii once more.

Lialia laughed. "You will see!" she said, kissing the tips of her fingers and looking very mysterious.

"Aha!" said Yourii, smiling. "Well, we shall see what we shall see!"

After some hesitation, Novikoff with an air of indifference, remarked:

"We might ask the Sanines too."

"Oh! we _must_ have Lida," cried Lialia, not because she particularly liked the girl, but because she knew of Novikoff's pa.s.sion, and wished to please him. She was so happy herself in her own love, that she wanted all those about her to be happy also.

"Then we shall have to invite the officers, too," observed Ivanoff, maliciously.

"What does that matter? Let us do so. The more the merrier!"

They all stood at the front door, in the moonlight.

"What a lovely night!" exclaimed Lialia, as unconsciously she drew closer to her lover. She did not wish him to go yet. Riasantzeff with his elbow pressed her warm, round arm.

"Yes, it's a wonderful night!" he replied, giving to these simple words a meaning that they two alone could seize.

"Oh! you, and your night!" muttered Ivanoff in his deep ba.s.s. "I'm sleepy, so good-night, sirs!"

And he slouched off, along the street, swinging his arms like the sails of a windmill.

Novikoff and s.e.m.e.noff went next, and Riasantzeff was a long while saying good-bye to Lialia, pretending to talk about the picnic.

"Now, we must all go to bye-bye," said Lialia, laughingly, when he had taken his leave. Then she sighed, being loth to leave the moonlight, the soft night air, and all for which her youth and beauty longed.

Yourii remembered that his father had not yet retired to rest, and feared that, if they met, a painful and useless discussion would be inevitable.

"No!" he replied, his eyes fixed on the faint blue mist about the river, "No! I don't want to go to sleep. I shall go out for a while."

"As you like," said Lialia, in her sweet, gentle voice. Stretching herself, she half closed her eyes like a cat, smiled at the moonlight, and went in. For a few minutes Yourii stood there, watching the dark shadows of the houses and the trees; then he went in the same direction that s.e.m.e.noff had taken.

The latter had not gone far, walking slowly and stooping as he coughed.

His black shadow followed him along the moonlit road. Yourii soon overtook him and at once noticed how changed he was. During supper s.e.m.e.noff had joked and laughed more perhaps than anyone else, but now he walked along, gloomy and self-absorbed, and in his hollow cough there was something hopeless and threatening like the disease from which he suffered.

"Ah! it's you!" he said, somewhat peevishly, as Yourii thought.

"I wasn't sleepy. I'll walk back with you, if you like."

"Yes, do!" replied s.e.m.e.noff, carelessly.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Yourii, merely because this distressing cough made him nervous.

"I am always cold," replied s.e.m.e.noff irritably.

Yourii felt pained, as if he had purposely touched a sore point.

"Is it a long while since you left the University?" he asked.

s.e.m.e.noff did not immediately reply.

"A long while," he said, at last.

Yourii then spoke of the feeling that actually existed among the students and of what they considered most important and essential. He began simply and impa.s.sively, but by degrees let himself go, expressing himself with fervour and point.

s.e.m.e.noff said nothing, and listened.

Then Yourii deplored the lack of revolutionary spirit among the ma.s.ses.

It was plain that he felt this deeply.

"Did you read Bebel's last speech?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," replied s.e.m.e.noff.

"Well, what do you say?"

s.e.m.e.noff irritably flourished his stick, which had a crooked handle.

His shadow similarly waved a long black arm which made Yourii think of the black wings of some infuriated bird of prey.

"What do I say?" he blurted out. "I say that I am going to die."

And again he waved his stick and again the sinister shadow imitated his gesture. This time s.e.m.e.noff also noticed it.

"Do you see?" said he bitterly. "There, behind me, stands Death, watching my every movement. What's Bebel to me? Just a babbler, who babbles about this. And then some other fool will babble about that. It is all the same to me! If I don't die to-day, I shall die to-morrow."

Yourii made no answer. He felt confused and hurt.

"You, for instance," continued s.e.m.e.noff, "you think that it's very important, all this that goes on at the University, and what Bebel says. But what I think is that, if you knew for certain, as I do, that you were going to die you would not care in the least what Bebel or Nietzsche or Tolstoi or anybody else said."