The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories Part 12

"Nonsense!" some one cries to me:--"thou shalt not pa.s.s through.".. I look: Lukyanitch is standing in front of me and threatening, and brandishing his arms... I hastily fumble in my pockets: I want to bribe him; but there is nothing in my pockets....

"Lukyanitch,"--I say to him,--"let me pa.s.s; I will reward thee afterward."

"You are mistaken, signor," Lukyanitch replies to me, and his face a.s.sumes a strange expression:--"I am not a house-serf; recognise in me Don Quixote de La Mancha, the famous wandering knight; all my life long I have been seeking my Dulcinea--and I have not been able to find her, and I will not tolerate it, that you shall find yours."

"_Pa.s.sa quei colli_".... rings out again the almost sobbing voice.

"Stand aside, signor!"--I shout wrathfully, and am on the point of precipitating myself forward ... but the knight's long spear wounds me in the very heart... I fall dead,.. I lie on my back... I cannot move ... and lo, I see that she is coming with a lamp in her hand, and elevating it with a fine gesture above her head, she peers about her in the gloom, and creeping cautiously up, bends over me...

"So this is he, that jester!" she says with a disdainful laugh.--"This is he who wanted to know who I am!" and the hot oil from her lamp drips straight upon my wounded heart...

"Psyche!"--I exclaim with an effort, and awake.

All night long I slept badly and was afoot before daybreak. Hastily dressing and arming myself, I wended my way straight to the manor. My impatience was so great that the dawn had only just begun to flush the sky when I reached the familiar gate. Round me the larks were singing, the daws were cawing on the birches; but in the house everything was still buried in death-like matutinal slumber. Even the dog was snoring behind the fence. With the anguish of expectation, exasperated almost to the point of wrath, I paced to and fro on the dewy gra.s.s, and kept casting incessant glances at the low-roofed and ill-favoured little house which contained within its walls that mysterious being....

Suddenly the wicket-gate creaked faintly, opened, and Lukyanitch made his appearance on the threshold, in some sort of striped kazak coat. His bristling, long-drawn face seemed to me more surly than ever. Gazing at me not without surprise, he was on the point of shutting the wicket again.

"My good fellow, my good fellow!"--I cried hastily.

"What do you want at such an early hour?"--he returned slowly and dully.

"Tell me, please, they say that your mistress has arrived?"

Lukyanitch made no reply for a while.

"She has arrived..."

"Alone?"

"With her sister."

"Were there not guests with you last night?"

"No."

And he drew the wicket toward him.

"Stay, stay, my dear fellow.... Do me a favour...."

Lukyanitch coughed and shivered with cold.

"But what is it you want?"

"Tell me, please, how old is your mistress?"

Lukyanitch darted a suspicious glance at me.

"How old is the mistress? I don't know. She must be over forty."

"Over forty! And how old is her sister?"

"Why, she 's in the neighbourhood of forty."

"You don't say so! And is she good-looking?"

"Who, the sister?"

"Yes, the sister."

Lukyanitch grinned.

"I don't know; that 's as a person fancies. In my opinion, she is n't comely."

"How so?"

"Because--she 's very ill-favoured. A bit puny."

"You don't say so! And has no one except them come hither?"

"No one. Who should come?"

"But that cannot be!... I ...."

"Eh, master! there 's no end of talking with you, apparently,"--retorted the old man with vexation.--"Whew, how cold it is! Good-bye."

"Stay, stay .... here 's something for thee...." And I held out to him a quarter of a ruble which I had prepared beforehand; but my hand came into contact with the swiftly banged wicket-gate. The silver coin fell to the ground, rolled away, and lay at my feet.

"Ah, thou old rascal!"--I thought--"Don Quixote de La Mancha! Evidently, thou hast received orders to hold thy tongue.... But wait, thou shalt not trick me."...

I promised myself that I would elucidate the matter, at any cost. For about half an hour I paced to and fro, without knowing what decision to adopt. At last I made up my mind first to inquire in the village, precisely who had arrived at the manor, and who she was, then to return, and, as the saying runs, not desist until the matter was cleared up.--And if the Unknown should come out of the house, I would, at last, see her by daylight, near at hand, like a living woman, not like a vision.

It was about a verst to the village, and I immediately betook myself thither, stepping out lightly and alertly: a strange audacity was seething and sparkling in my blood; the invigorating freshness of the morning excited me after the uneasy night.--In the village I learned from two peasants, who were on their way to their work, everything which I could learn from them; namely: I learned that the manor, together with the village which I had entered, was called Mikhailovskoe, that it belonged to the widow of a Major, Anna Feodorovna Shlkoff; that she had with her her sister, an unmarried woman, Pelageya Feodorovna Badaeff by name; that both of them were advanced in years, were wealthy, hardly ever lived at home, were always travelling about, kept no one in attendance on them except two female domestic serfs and a male cook; that Anna Feodorovna had recently returned from Moscow with no one but her sister.... This last circ.u.mstance greatly perturbed me: it was impossible to a.s.sume that the peasants also had been commanded to hold their peace about my Unknown. But it was utterly impossible to concede that Anna Feodorovna Shlkoff, a widow of five-and-forty, and that young, charming woman, whom I had seen on the previous evening, were one and the same person. Pelageya Feodorovna, judging from the description, was not distinguished for her beauty either, and, in addition to that, at the mere thought that the woman whom I had seen at Sorrento could bear the name of Pelageya, and still more of Badaeff, I shrugged my shoulders and laughed maliciously. And nevertheless, I had beheld her the night before in that house.... I had beheld her, beheld her with my own eyes, I reflected. Irritated, enraged, but still more inclined to stand by my intention, I would have liked to return at once to the manor .... but glanced at my watch; it was not yet six o'clock. I decided to wait a while. Every one was still asleep at the farm, in all probability ... and to prowl about the house at such an hour would only serve to arouse unnecessary suspicion; and besides, in front of me stretched bushes, and beyond them an aspen wood was visible...

I must do myself the justice to say, that, notwithstanding the thoughts which were exciting me, the n.o.ble pa.s.sion for the hunt had not yet grown wholly mute within me; "perchance," I thought,--"I shall hit upon a covey,--and that will serve to pa.s.s away the time." I entered the bushes. But, truth to tell, I walked in a very careless way, quite out of consonance with the rules of the art: I did not follow my dog constantly with my eyes, I did not snort over a thick bush, in the hope that a red-browed black snipe would fly thence with a whirr and a crash, but kept incessantly looking at my watch, which never serves any purpose whatsoever. And, at last, it was going on nine.--"'T is time!" I exclaimed aloud, and was on the point of turning back to the manor, when suddenly a huge black woodc.o.c.k actually did begin to flutter out of the thick gra.s.s a couple of paces from me. I fired at the magnificent bird, and wounded it under the wing; it almost fell to the ground, but recovered itself, started off, fluttering its wings swiftly and, diving toward the wood, tried to soar above the first aspens on the edge, but its strength failed, and it rolled headlong into the thicket. It would have been utterly unpardonable to abandon such a prize. I strode briskly after it, entered the forest, made a sign to Dianka, and a few moments later I heard a feeble clucking and flapping; it was the unlucky woodc.o.c.k, struggling under the paws of my quick-scented hound. I picked it up, put it in my game-bag, glanced round, and--remained rooted to the spot, as it were....

The forest which I had entered was very dense and wild, so that I had with difficulty made my way to the spot where the bird had fallen; but at a short distance from me wound a cart-road, and along this road were riding on horseback my beauty and the man who had overtaken me on the night before; I recognised him by his moustache. They were riding softly, in silence, holding each other by the hand; their horses were barely putting one foot before the other, lazily swaying from side to side and handsomely stretching out their long necks. When I had recovered from my first alarm ... precisely that, alarm: I can give no other appellation to the feeling which suddenly seized upon me.... I fairly bored into her with my eyes. How beautiful she was! how enchantingly her graceful form moved toward me amid the emerald green!

Soft shadows, tender reflections glided over her--over her long grey habit, over her slender, slightly-bent neck, over her faintly-rosy face, over her glossy black hair, which escaped luxuriantly from under her low-crowned hat. But how shall I transmit that expression of utter, pa.s.sionate bliss of a person pa.s.sionate to the point of speechlessness, which breathed forth from her features? Her head seemed to be bending beneath the burden of it; moist, golden sparks glittered in her dark eyes, which were half-concealed by her eyelashes; they gazed nowhere, those happy eyes, and the slender brows drooped over them. An irresolute, child-like smile--the smile of profound happiness, strayed over her lips; it seemed as though excess of happiness had wearied and even broken her a little, as a flower in full bloom sometimes breaks its own stem. Both her hands lay powerless: one, in the hand of the man who was riding by her side, the other on her horse's mane.

I succeeded in getting a good look at her--and at him also.... He was a handsome, stately man, with an un-Russian face. He was gazing at her boldly and merrily, and, so far as I was able to observe, was admiring her not without secret pride. He was admiring her, the villain, and was very well-satisfied with himself, and not sufficiently touched, not sufficiently moved,--precisely that, moved... And, as a matter of fact, what man does deserve such devotion, what soul, even the most beautiful, is worthy of furnishing another soul such happiness? I must say, that I was envious of him!.... In the meantime, they had both arrived on a level with me ... my dog suddenly bounded out into the road and began to bark. My Unknown started, cast a swift glance around and, catching sight of me, dealt her steed a violent blow on the neck with her whip. The horse snorted, reared up on his hind legs, threw both his hoofs forward simultaneously, and dashed off at a gallop.... The man immediately gave the spur to his black horse, and when I emerged by the road into the border of the forest a few moments later, both of them were already galloping off into the golden distance, across the fields, rising smartly and regularly in their saddles ... and were not galloping in the direction of the farm....

I gazed.... They speedily disappeared behind a hillock, brilliantly illuminated for the last time by the sun against the dark line of the horizon. I stood, and stood, then returned with slow steps to the forest and sat down on the path, covering my eyes with my hand.--I have observed that after meeting strangers, all that is necessary is to close the eyes--and their features immediately start up before you; any one can verify my observation on the street. The more familiar the faces, the more difficult is it for them to present themselves, the more indefinite is their impression; you recall them, but you do not see them,.... and you can never possibly picture to yourself your own face.... The very minutest separate feature is known to you, but the entire image will not const.i.tute itself. So then, I sat down, closed my eyes--and immediately beheld the Unknown and her companion, and their horses, and everything.... The man's smiling countenance stood before me with particular sharpness and distinctness. I began to stare intently at it ... it became confused, and dissolved into a sort of crimson mist, and after it, her image also floated away and sank, and would not return.

"Well, never mind!"--I thought;--"at all events, I have seen them, seen them both clearly.... It remains for me now to find out their names."

Endeavour to find out their names! What ill-judged, petty curiosity!

But I swear that it was not curiosity which had flamed up in me. In truth, it simply seemed to me impossible not to discover, eventually, who they were, after accident had so strangely and so persistently brought us together. Moreover, my former impatient perplexity no longer existed; it had been replaced by a certain confused, sorrowful feeling, of which I was somewhat ashamed.... I was jealous....

I did not hasten back to the farm. I must confess that I had become ashamed to pry into the secrets of others. Moreover, the appearance of the fond pair by daylight, in the light of the sun, although it was unexpected and, I repeat, strange, had not exactly soothed, but chilled me. I no longer found anything supernatural, miraculous in this occurrence .... nothing resembling an impossible dream....

I began to hunt again with greater a.s.siduity than before; but still, there were no genuine raptures. I hit upon a covey, which engaged my attention for an hour and a half... The young partridges did not respond to my whistle for a long time,--probably because I did not whistle with sufficient "objectivity."--The sun had already risen quite high (my watch indicated twelve o'clock), when I directed my steps toward the manor. I walked without haste. Yonder, at last, the low-roofed little house peeped forth from its hill. I approached .... and not without secret satisfaction beheld Lukyanitch. As of yore, he was sitting motionless on the bench in front of the wing. The gate was closed--also the shutters.