The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories Part 26

"None whatever, ma'am. What was there for him to complain about?"

"But why did he come, then?"--said Lizaveta Prokhorovna, not without some surprise.

"Why, he came to ask, ma'am, until he receives compensation, whether you will not be so gracious as to remit his quit-rent for the coming year, that is to say ...."

"Of course I will! I will remit it,"--put in Lizaveta Prokhorovna, with vivacity;--"of course. And, tell him, in general terms, that I will reward him. Well, I thank thee, Kirillovna. And he is a good peasant, I see. Stay,"--she added:--"here, give him this from me."--And she took out of her work-table a three-ruble bill.--"Here, take this and give it to him."

"I obey, ma'am,"--replied Kirillovna, and coolly returning to her own room, she coolly locked up the bank-bill in an iron-bound casket which stood by the head of her bed; she kept in it all her ready money, and the amount was not small.

Kirillovna by her report had soothed her lady, but the conversation between her and Akim had, in reality, not been precisely as she represented it, but to wit: she had ordered him to be summoned to her in the maids' hall. At first he refused to go to her, declaring that he did not wish to see Kirillovna, but Lizaveta Prokhorovna herself; nevertheless, at last, he submitted, and wended his way through the back door to Kirillovna. He found her alone. On entering the room he came to a halt at once, leaned against the wall near the door, and made an effort to speak .... and could not.

Kirillovna stared intently at him.

"Do you wish to see the mistress, Akim Semyonitch?"--she began.

He merely nodded his head.

"That is impossible, Akim Semyonitch. And what is the use? What is done can't be undone, and you will only worry her. She cannot receive you now, Akim Semyonitch."

"She cannot,"--he repeated, and paused for a s.p.a.ce.--"Then how is it to be,"--he said at last;--"that means that I must lose my house?"

"Hearken, Akim Semyonitch. I know that you have always been a reasonable man. This is the mistress's will. And it cannot be changed. You cannot alter it. There is nothing for you and me to discuss, for it will lead to no result. Is n't that so?"

Akim put his hands behind his back.

"But you had better consider,"--went on Kirillovna,--"whether you ought not to ask the mistress to remit your quit-rent, had n't you?..."

"That means that I must lose the house,"--repeated Akim, in the same tone as before.

"Akim Semyonitch, I 've told you already 't is impossible to change that. You know that yourself even better than I do."

"Yes. But tell me, at any rate, how much my inn sold for?"

"I don't know that, Akim Semyonitch; I can't tell you.... But why do you stand there?"--she added.--"Sit down...."

"I 'll stand as I am, ma'am. I 'm a peasant. I thank you humbly."

"Why do you say that you are a peasant, Akim Semyonitch? You are the same as a merchant; you cannot be compared even with the house-serfs; why do you say that? Don't decry yourself without cause. Won't you have some tea?"

"No, thanks; I don't require it. And so my dear little house has become your property,"--he added, quitting the wall.--"Thanks for that, also. I will bid you good day, my little madam."

Thereupon he wheeled round, and left the room. Kirillovna smoothed down her ap.r.o.n, and betook herself to her mistress.

"So it appears that I actually have become a merchant,"--said Akim to himself, as he paused in thought before the gate.--"A fine merchant!"

He waved his hand and laughed a bitter laugh.--"Well, I might as well go home!"

And utterly oblivious of Naum's horse, which he had driven thither, he trudged along the road to the inn. Before he had covered the first verst, he heard the rattle of a cart alongside of him.

"Akim, Akim Semyonitch!"--some one called to him.

He raised his eyes and beheld his acquaintance, the chanter of the parish church, Efrem, nicknamed "The Mole," a small, round-shouldered man, with a sharp-pointed little nose, and purblind eyes. He was sitting in a rickety little cart on a whisp of straw, with his breast leaning on the driver's seat.

"Art thou on thy way home, pray?"--he asked Akim.

Akim halted.

"Yes."

"I 'll drive you there,--shall I?"

"All right, do."

Efrem moved aside, and Akim clambered into the cart. Efrem, who was jolly with drink, it appeared, set to lashing his miserable little nag with the ends of his rope reins; the horse advanced at a weary trot, incessantly twitching her unbridled muzzle.

They drove about a verst, without saying one word to each other. Akim sat with bowed head, and Efrem merely mumbled something to himself, now stimulating the horse to greater speed, now reining it in.

"Whither hast thou been without a hat, Semyonitch?"--he suddenly asked Akim, and, without waiting for a reply, he went on in an undertone:--"thou hast left it in a nice little dram-shop, that 's what.

Thou 'rt a tippler; I know thee, and I love thee because thou art a tippler--'t was high time, long ago, to place thee under ecclesiastical censure, G.o.d is my witness; because 't is a bad business....

Hurrah!"--he shouted suddenly, at the top of his lungs,--"hurrah!

hurrah!"

"Halt! halt!"--rang out a woman's voice close at hand.--"Halt!"

Akim glanced round. Across the fields, in the direction of the cart, a woman was running, so pale and dishevelled that he did not recognise her at first.

"Halt, halt!"--she moaned again, panting and waving her arms.

Akim shuddered: it was his wife.

He seized the reins.

"And why should we halt?"--muttered Efrem;--"why should we halt for a female? Get u-uup!"

But Akim jerked the horse abruptly on its haunches.

At that moment Avdotya reached the road, and fairly tumbled headlong, face downward, in the dust.

"Dear little father, Akim Semyonitch,"--she shrieked;--"he has actually turned me out of doors!"

Akim gazed at her, and did not move, but merely drew the reins still more taut.

"Hurrah!"--cried Efrem again.

"And so he has turned thee out?"--said Akim.

"He has, dear little father, my dear little dove," replied Avdotya, sobbing.--"He has turned me out, dear little father. 'The house is mine now,' says he; 'so get out,' says he."

"Capital, that 's just fine ... capital!"--remarked Efrem.