The diary of a superfluous man, and other stories

Part 18

Chapter 183,919 wordsPublic domain

"To that creature's!"--replied Kiríllovna, significantly.--"Well, I understand that it is painful for him now, and I don't believe you can hunt him up to-day. What is to be done? We must take measures, Maláshka,"--she added, turning to one of the chambermaids. "Just ask Nikanór Ílitch to step here; I will have a talk with him."

Nikanór Ílitch, a man of very paltry appearance, who served somewhat in the capacity of overseer, immediately presented himself, obsequiously listened to everything which Kiríllovna said to him,--remarked: "It shall be executed," left the room and issued his orders. Avdótya was furnished with three carts and three peasants; these were voluntarily joined by a fourth, who said of himself that he would be "more intelligent than they," and she set off in company with them for the inn, where she found her former hired men and her maid-servant, Fetínya, in great terror and excitement....

Naúm's recruits, three extremely robust young fellows, had arrived in the morning, and had gone nowhere since, but had maintained a very zealous guard over the inn, according to Naúm's promise--so zealous, that one cart speedily proved to be devoid of tires...

Bitter, very bitter was it for poor Avdótya to pack up her things. Despite the assistance of the "intelligent" man, who, by the way, knew how to do nothing but stalk about with a staff in his hand, and watch the others, and spit to one side, she did not succeed in moving out that day, and remained to spend the night in the inn, having first requested Fetínya not to leave her room; but it was not until daybreak that she fell into a feverish doze, and the tears streamed down her cheeks even in her sleep.

In the meantime, Efrém awoke earlier than was his wont in his lumber-room, and began to thump and demand his release. At first his wife would not let him out, declaring to him through the door that he had not yet had enough sleep; but he excited her curiosity by promising to tell her about the remarkable thing which had happened to Akím; she undid the latch.--Efrém imparted to her everything he knew, and wound up with the question: "Was he awake or not?"

"Why, the Lord knows,"--replied his wife;--"go and see for thyself; he has not climbed down from the oven yet.--You both got pretty drunk last night; thou shouldst just see thyself--thy face has no semblance of a face; 't is like some sort of ladle; and what a lot of hay has got into thy hair!"

"Never mind if it has,"--returned Efrém,--and passing his hand over his head, he entered the house.--Akím was no longer asleep; he was sitting on the oven with his legs dangling; his face also was very strange and discomposed. It appeared all the more distorted because Akím was not in the habit of drinking heavily.

"Well, how now, Akím Semyónitch, how have you slept?"--began Efrém....

Akím looked at him with a turbid gaze.

"Come, brother Efrém,"--he said hoarsely,--"can't we do it again--thou knowest what?"

Efrém darted a swift glance at Akím .... at that moment he felt a sort of thrill; that is the kind of sensation a sportsman experiences when standing on the skirt of the woods, at the sudden yelping of his hound in the forest, from which, apparently, all the wild beasts have already fled.

"What--more?"--he asked at last.

"Yes; more."

"My wife will see,"--thought Efrém,--"and I don't believe she will allow it."--"All right, it can be done,"--he said aloud;--"have patience."--He went out and, thanks to artfully conceived measures, succeeded in smuggling in a huge bottle unperceived beneath the skirt of his coat....

Akím seized the bottle ... But Efrém did not start to drink with him as on the preceding evening--he was afraid of his wife, and,--having told Akím that he would go and see how things were progressing at his house, and how his belongings were being packed, and whether he were not being robbed,--he immediately set off for the inn astride of his unfed little nag,--not forgetting himself, however, if we may take into consideration his projecting bosom.

Soon after his departure, Akím fell asleep again, and lay like one dead on the oven.... He did not even wake up--at all events, he showed no signs of being awake--when Efrém, returning four hours later, began to shove him and try to rouse him, and whisper over him some extremely indistinct words to the effect that everything was gone and transported and the holy pictures were gone too, and everything was already over--and that every one was hunting for him, but that he, Efrém, had taken due measures, and had prohibited ... and so forth. But he did not whisper long. His wife led him off to the lumber-room again, and herself lay down in the house, on the platform over the oven, in great indignation at her husband and at the guest, thanks to whom her husband had got drunk.... But when, on awakening very early, according to her wont, she cast a glance at the oven, Akím was no longer on it.... The cocks had not yet crowed for the second time, and the night was still so dark that the sky was barely turning grey directly overhead, and at the rim was still completely drowned in vapour, when Akím emerged from the gate of the chanter's house. His face was pale, but he darted a keen glance around him, and his gait did not betray the drunkard.... He walked in the direction of his former dwelling--the inn, which had already definitively become the property of its new owner, Naúm.

Naúm was not sleeping either, at the time when Akím stealthily quitted Efrém's house. He was not asleep; he was lying completely dressed on the wall-bench, with his sheepskin coat rolled up under his head. It was not that his conscience was tormenting him--no! he had been present with astounding cold-bloodedness, from the morning on, at the packing and transportation of Akím's household goods, and had more than once spoken to Avdótya, who was downcast to such a degree that she did not even upbraid him.... His conscience was at ease, but divers surmises and calculations occupied his mind. He did not know whether he was going to make a success of his new career; up to that time, he had never kept an inn--and, generally speaking, had never even had a nook of his own; and so he could not get to sleep.--"This little affair has been begun well,"--he thought;--"what will the future be?"... When the last cart-load of Akím's effects had set off just before night-fall (Avdótya had followed it weeping), he had inspected the entire inn, all the stables, cellars, and barns; he had crawled up into the attic, had repeatedly ordered his labourers to maintain a strict watch, and, when he was left alone after supper, he had not been able to get to sleep. It so happened that on that day none of the travellers stopped to pass the night; and this pleased him greatly. "I must buy a dog without fail to-morrow,--the worst-tempered dog I can get, from the miller; for they have carried off theirs,"--he said to himself, as he tossed from side to side, and, all of a sudden, he raised his head hastily.... It seemed to him as though some one had stolen past under the window... He listened... Not a sound. Only a grasshopper shrilled behind the oven, from time to time, and a mouse was gnawing somewhere, and his own breath was audible. All was still in the empty room, dimly illuminated by the yellow rays of a tiny glass shrine-lamp, which he had found time to suspend and light in front of a small holy picture in the corner... He lowered his head; and now again he seemed to hear the gate squeaking .... then the wattled hedge crackled faintly.... He could not endure it, leaped to his feet, opened the door into the next room, and called in a low tone: "Feódor, hey, Feódor!"--No one answered him.... He went out into the anteroom and nearly fell prone, as he stumbled over Feódor, who was sprawling on the floor. The labourer stirred, growling in his sleep; he shook him.

"Who 's there? What 's wanted?"--Feódor was beginning....

"What art thou yelling for? Hold thy tongue!"--articulated Naúm in a whisper.--"The idea of your sleeping, you damned brutes! Hast thou not heard anything?"

"No,"--replied the man.... "Why?"

"And where are the others sleeping?"

"The others are sleeping where they were ordered to.... But has anything happened?..."

"Silence!--Follow me."

Naúm softly opened the door leading from the anteroom into the yard.... Out of doors everything was very dark;... it was possible to make out the sheds with their pillars only because they stood out still more densely black in the midst of the black mist....

"Sha'n't I light a lantern?"--said Feódor in a low voice.

But Naúm waved his hand and held his breath.... At first he could hear nothing except those nocturnal sounds which one can almost always hear in inhabited places: a horse was munching oats, a pig grunted once faintly in its sleep, a man was snoring somewhere; but suddenly there reached his ear a suspicious sort of noise, proceeding from the extreme end of the yard, close to the fence....

It seemed as though some one was moving about, and breathing or blowing.... Naúm looked over Feódor's shoulder, and, cautiously descending the steps, walked in the direction of the sound.... A couple of times he halted, and listened, then continued to creep stealthily onward.... Suddenly he gave a start.... Ten paces from him, in the dense gloom, a point of light suddenly glimmered brightly: it was a red-hot coal, and beside the coal there showed itself for a brief instant the front part of some one's face, with lips puffed out.... Swiftly and silently Naúm darted at the light, as a cat darts at a mouse.... Hastily rising from the ground, a long body rushed to meet him, and almost knocked him from his feet, almost slipped through his hands, but he clung to it with all his might....

"Feódor! Andréi! Petrúshka!"--he shouted, at the top of his lungs;--"come here quick, quick! I 've caught a thief, an incendiary!"

The man whom he had captured struggled and resisted .... but Naúm did not release him.... Feódor immediately darted to his assistance.

"A lantern, quick, a lantern! Run for a lantern! wake the others, be quick!"--Naúm shouted to him,--"and I 'll manage him alone meanwhile--I 'll sit on him... Be quick! and fetch a belt to bind him with!"

Feódor flew to the cottage.... The man whom Naúm was holding suddenly ceased his resistance....

"So, evidently, 't is not enough for thee to have taken my wife and my money, and my house, but thou art bent on destroying me also,"--he said in a dull tone....

Naúm recognised Akím's voice.

"So 't is thou, dear little dove,"--said he;--"good, just wait a bit!"

"Let me go,"--said Akím.--"Art not thou satisfied?"

"See here, to-morrow I 'll show you in the presence of the judge how satisfied I am...." And Naúm tightened his hold on Akím....

The labourers ran up with two lanterns and some ropes.... "Bind him!"--ordered Naúm, sharply.... The labourers seized Akím, lifted him up, and bound his hands behind him.... One of them was beginning to swear, but on recognising the former landlord of the inn, he held his peace, and merely exchanged glances with the others.

"Just see there, see there, now,"--Naúm kept repeating the while, as he passed the lantern along the ground;--"yonder, there are coals in a pot; just look, he has brought a whole firebrand in the pot--we must find out where he got that pot ... and here, he has broken twigs...." And Naúm assiduously stamped out the fire with his foot.--"Search him, Feódor!"--he added, "and see whether he has anything more about him."

Feódor searched and felt Akím, who stood motionless with his head drooping on his breast, like a dead man.--"There is--here 's a knife,"--said Feódor, drawing an old kitchen-knife from Akím's breast.

"Ehe, my dear fellow, so that 's what thou hadst in mind!"--exclaimed Naúm.--"You are witnesses, my lads--see there, he intended to cut my throat, to burn up my house.... Lock him up in the cellar until morning; he can't get out of there.... I will stand watch all night myself, and to-morrow at dawn we will take him to the chief of police .... and you are witnesses, do you hear...."

They thrust Akím into the cellar, and slammed the door behind him.... Naúm stationed two of the labourers there, and did not lie down to sleep himself.

In the meantime, Efrém's wife, having convinced herself that her unbidden guest had taken himself off, was on the point of beginning her cooking, although it was hardly daylight out of doors as yet. She squatted down by the oven to get some coals, and saw that some one had already raked out the live embers thence; then she bethought herself of her knife--and did not find it; in conclusion, one of her four pots was missing. Efrém's wife bore the reputation of being anything but a stupid woman--and with good reason. She stood for a while in thought, then went to the lumber-room to her husband. It was not easy to arouse him fully--and still more difficult was it to make him understand why he had been awakened... To everything which his wife said, Chanter Efrém made one and the same reply:

"He 's gone,--well, God be with him ... but what business is that of mine? He has carried off a knife and a pot--well, God be with him--but what business is that of mine?"

But, at last, he rose, and after listening intently to his wife, he decided that it was a bad business, and that it could not be left as it now stood.

"Yes,"--the chanter's wife insisted,--"'t is a bad business; I do believe he 'll do mischief out of desperation.... I noticed last night that he was not asleep as he lay there on the oven; it would n't be a bad idea for thee, Efrém Alexándritch, to find out whether ...."

"See here, Ulyána Feódorovna, I 'll tell thee what,"--began Efrém;--"I 'll go to the inn myself immediately; and do thou be kind, dear little mother; give me a little glass of liquor to cure me of my drunkenness."

Ulyána reflected.

"Well,"--she decided at last,--"I 'll give thee some liquor, Efrém Alexándritch; only look out, don't dally."

"Be at ease, Ulyána Feódorovna."

And, having fortified himself with a glass of liquor, Efrém set out for the inn.

Day had but just dawned when he rode up to the inn, and at the gate a cart was already standing harnessed, and one of Naúm's labourers was sitting on the driver's seat, holding the reins in his hands.

"Whither art thou going?"--Efrém asked him.

"To town,"--replied the labourer.

"Why?"

The labourer merely shrugged his shoulders and made no reply. Efrém sprang from his horse and entered the house. In the anteroom he ran across Naúm, fully dressed, and wearing a cap.

"I congratulate the new landlord on his new domicile,"--said Efrém, who was personally acquainted with him.--"Whither away so early?"

"Yes, there is cause for congratulation,"--replied Naúm, surlily.--"This is my first day, and I have almost been burnt out."

Efrém started.--"How so?"

"Why, just that; a kind man turned up, who tried to set the house on fire. Luckily, I caught him in the act; now I 'm taking him to town."

"It can't be Akím, can it?".... asked Efrém, slowly.

"And how dost thou know? It is Akím. He came by night, with a firebrand in a pot, and had already crept into the yard, and laid a fire.... All my lads are witnesses.--Wouldst like to take a look? But, by the way, 't is high time we were carrying him off."

"Dear little father, Naúm Ivánitch,"--began Efrém,--"release him; don't utterly ruin the old man. Don't take that sin on your soul, Naúm Ivánitch. Just reflect,--the man is desperate,--he has lost, you know ...."

"Stop that prating!"--Naúm interrupted him.--"The idea! As though I would let him go! Why, he would set me on fire again to-morrow...."

"He will not do it, Naúm Ivánitch, believe me. Believe me, you yourself will be more at ease so--for, you see, there will be inquiries--the court--you surely know what I mean."

"Well, and what about the court? I have nothing to fear from the court...."

"Dear little father, Naúm Ivánitch, how can you help fearing the court?..."

"Eh, stop that; I see that thou art drunk early, and to-day is a feast-day, to boot."

Efrém suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, fell to weeping.

"I am drunk, but I 'm speaking the truth,"--he blurted out.--"But do you release him, in honour of Christ's festival."

"Come, let 's be starting, cry-baby."

And Naúm went out on the porch....

"Forgive him for Avdótya Aréfyevna's sake,"--said Efrém, following him.

Naúm approached the cellar, and threw the door wide open. Efrém, with timorous curiosity, craned his neck from behind Naúm's back, and with difficulty made out Akím in one corner of the shallow cellar. The former wealthy householder, the man respected in all the countryside, was sitting with pinioned arms on the straw, like a criminal... On hearing the noise, he raised his head.... He seemed to have grown frightfully thin in the last two days, especially during the last night--his sunken eyes were hardly visible beneath his lofty brow, yellow as wax, his parched lips had turned dark ... his whole face had undergone a change, and assumed a strange expression: both harsh and terrified.

"Get up and come out,"--said Naúm.

Akím rose, and stepped across the threshold.

"Akím Semyónitch,"--roared Efrém,--"thou hast ruined thyself, my dear man!"

Akím glanced at him in silence.

"If I had known why thou didst ask for liquor, I would n't have given it to thee; indeed, I would n't! I do believe I would have drunk it all myself! Ekh, Naúm Ivánitch,"--added Efrém, seizing Naúm by the hand;--"have mercy on him, let him go!"

"Thou 'rt joking,"--retorted Naúm, with a grin.--"Come out, there,"--he added, again addressing Akím... "What art thou waiting for?"

"Naúm Ivánoff,".... began Akím.

"What?"

"Naúm Ivánoff,"--repeated Akím;--"listen; I am guilty; I wanted to punish thee myself; but God must judge between thou and me. Thou hast taken everything from me, thou knowest that thyself--everything, to the very last morsel.--Now thou canst ruin me, and this is all I have to say to thee: If thou wilt release me now--well! let things stand! do thou possess everything! I agree, and wish thee all success. And I say to thee, as in the presence of God: If thou dost release me--thou shalt not regret it. God bless thee!"

Akím shut his eyes, and ceased speaking.

"Certainly, certainly,"--retorted Naúm;--"as though one could trust thee!"

"But thou canst, by God, thou canst!"--said Efrém; "really, thou canst. I 'm ready to go bail for Akím Semyónitch with my head--come now, really!"

"Nonsense!"--exclaimed Naúm.--"Let 's be off!"

Akím looked at him.

"As thou wilt, Naúm Ivánitch. Thou hast the power. Only, thou art taking a great deal on thy soul. All right, if thou art impatient,--let us start...."

Naúm, in his turn, darted a keen glance at Akím. "But it really would be better,"--he thought to himself, "to let him go to the devil! Otherwise, folks will devour me alive. There 'll be no living for Avdótya.".... While Naúm was reasoning with himself no one uttered a single word. The labourer on the cart, who could see everything through the gate, merely shook his head and slapped the reins on the horse's back. The other two labourers stood on the porch and also maintained silence.

"Come, listen to me, old man,"--began Naúm;--"if I let thee go,--and I forbid these fine fellows" (he nodded his head in the direction of the labourers) "to blab; shall we be quits, thou and I--thou understandest me--quits .... hey?"

"Possess everything, I say."

"Thou wilt not consider me in thy debt?"

"Thou wilt not be in debt to me, neither shall I be in debt to thee." Again Naúm was silent for a space.

"Well, take thy oath on that!"

"I do, as God is holy,"--replied Akím.

"Here goes then, although I know beforehand that I shall repent of it,"--remarked Naúm.--"But so be it! Give me your hands."

Akím turned his back toward him; Naúm began to unbind him.

"Look out, old man,"--he added, as he slipped the rope over his wrists:--"remember, I have spared thee; be careful!"

"You 're a dear, Naúm Ivánitch,"--stammered the deeply-moved Efrém.--"The Lord will be merciful to you!"

Akím stretched out his chilled and swollen arms, and was starting for the gate....

All of a sudden Naúm "turned Jewish," as the expression is--evidently, he was sorry that he had released Akím....

"Thou hast taken an oath, look out,"--he shouted after him.

Akím turned round, and surveying the house with an embracing glance, said sadly:--"Possess thou everything, forever, undisturbed .... farewell."

And he stepped quietly into the street, accompanied by Efrém. Naúm waved his hand, ordered the cart to be unharnessed, and went back into the house.

"Whither away, Akím Semyónitch? Art not thou coming to my house?"--exclaimed Efrém,--perceiving that Akím turned to the right from the highway.

"No, Efrémushka, thanks,"--replied Akím.... "I will go and see what my wife is doing."

"Thou canst see later on.... But now thou must for joy .. thou knowest ...."

"No, thanks, Efrém.... I 've had enough as it is. Farewell."--And Akím walked away without looking behind him.

"Eka! He has had enough as it is!"--ejaculated the astounded chanter;--"and I have taken my oath on his behalf! Well, I did n't expect this,"--he added with vexation,--"after I had vouched for him. Phew!"

He remembered that he had forgotten to take his knife and pot, and returned to the inn.... Naúm gave orders that his things should be delivered to him, but it never entered his head to entertain him. Thoroughly enraged and completely sober he presented himself at home.

"Well, what?"--his wife asked him;--"didst thou find him?"

"Did I find him?"--retorted Efrém;--"certainly I found him; there are thy utensils for thee."

"Akím?"--inquired his wife, with special emphasis.

Efrém nodded his head.

"Yes, Akím. But what a goose he is! I went bail for him; without me he would have been put in prison, and he never even treated me to a glass of liquor. Ulyána Feódorovna, do you, at least, show me consideration; give me just one little glass."

But Ulyána Feódorovna showed him no consideration and drove him out of her sight.